Interview with Dominika Jegen

As part of our ongoing content, we feature authors who have published in Culture, Medicine, and Psychiatry.

Today, we are excited to bring you our interview with Dominika Jegen!

What is your article “The Past in the Exam Room: Intergenerational Memory, Moral Ambiguity, and the Work of Empathy“ about?

The article is about something we do not always talk about in medicine: clinicians bring their own histories into the exam room, just as patients do.

I reflect on an otherwise routine clinical encounter in which something a patient shared unexpectedly brought forward memories and emotions connected to my family’s experiences of war and displacement in Europe. The encounter made me think more carefully about how histories that we inherit, not only those we experience ourselves, can shape how we perceive and respond to patients.

Using ideas from medical anthropology, narrative medicine, and the concept of postmemory, I explore what this means for empathy and professionalism. I argue that professionalism does not require us to be untouched by our own histories. Rather, it asks us to recognize those histories, understand when they are influencing us, and remain attentive to the person in front of us.

Tell us a little bit about yourself and your research interests.

I am a family physician and Assistant Professor of Family Medicine at Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. Before studying medicine, I studied biology and sociology and completed a master’s degree in medical sociology. That background has stayed with me throughout my medical career and continues to influence the kinds of questions that interest me, and the questions that I pose to those I encounter.

I have practiced medicine in a wide range of settings, including remote communities in Northern Canada, rural Mississippi, urban Seattle, and now Minnesota. My research interests include environmental health, rural and underserved health, social determinants of health, and medical education. I am particularly interested in the ways that people’s environments, histories, communities, and lived experiences affect health and the care we provide.

I also enjoy writing about the human side of medicine, the parts of clinical practice that are important but sometimes difficult to measure or even name.  This is not something that I see academic medicine often touching on.

What drew you to this project?

The project began with the clinical encounter described in the article. It was an ordinary visit until, quite unexpectedly, it wasn’t.

Something the patient shared brought forward feelings connected to stories I had heard growing up in Poland about my family’s experiences during and after World War II. I was surprised by the immediacy of my own response. I remained the patient’s physician and continued the visit, but afterward I kept thinking about what had happened internally.

That experience stayed with me because it raised a question I had not considered deeply enough before: we spend a great deal of time in medicine learning how to understand our patients’ histories, but how often do we examine the histories that we ourselves bring into an encounter?

Writing the article became a way of thinking through that question.  I began writing the first draft as soon as the patient left the office.

What was one of the most interesting findings?

For me, the most interesting realization was that empathy and professionalism do not necessarily require emotional distance.

Medicine teaches us, appropriately, not to allow our personal feelings to interfere with patient care. But that does not mean those feelings or histories disappear or are magically erased when you arrive at work that morning. Sometimes they are present before we are even consciously aware of them.

The important work, then, may be learning to recognize what belongs to our own history and what belongs to the patient in front of us. That distinction can help us remain both compassionate and ethically attentive without assuming that being a good clinician means being unaffected.

What are you reading, listening to, and/or watching right now?

I recently finished Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential and am just starting A Cook’s Tour. I love to travel, so I enjoy the way Bourdain writes about food as an entry point into places, cultures, and people. I am also looking forward to traveling to Malaysia and Singapore for a professional conference in 2027, so perhaps I am already thinking a little about the next journey.  Prior to that I enjoyed Dania Idriss’ Tales of the Mountains and the Sea, featuring stories that weave together Middle Eastern folklore, myth, superstition, and modern Lebanese history.

I frequently stream The Grand Tour, partly for the featured cars, but mostly for the travel and amazing cinematography.

As for what I listen to, I love stadium rock, sometimes the best counterbalance to medicine and academic work is simply great music played loudly.

If there was one takeaway or action point you hope people will get from your work, what would it be?

I hope readers come away with a willingness to be curious about their own reactions.

When a clinical encounter unexpectedly makes us uncomfortable, emotional, or unsettled, our first instinct may be to suppress that response in the name of professionalism. Sometimes, however, it is worth asking where the response came from.

Our histories do not have to determine how we care for patients. But recognizing that we have histories, and that they sometimes enter the exam room with us, can make us more reflective clinicians. To me, empathy is not about erasing ourselves and our past from the encounter. It is about knowing ourselves well enough to remain genuinely present for someone else.

Interview with Casey Golomski

As part of our ongoing content, we feature authors who have published in Culture, Medicine, and Psychiatry.

Today, we are excited to bring you our interview with Casey Golomski!

What is your article “Dementia Diagnosis in Postapartheid South Africa: Providers’ Perspectives in Ethnographic Context“ about?

This article unpacks how providers make sense of dementia among their client-patients, or what they presume to be dementia. Mostly these are people who live and work in residential long-term care or “old age” homes, and most providers and patients are not working with a formal diagnosis, hence the “sense making” they do with some of the disease’s tell-tale clinical indicators and their cultural and historic context of postapartheid South Africa.

Tell us a little bit about yourself and your research interests.

I’m a cultural and medical anthropologist who likes to experiment with the range, scope and possibilities of ethnography in creative, literary, and poetic forms. I’ve worked mostly in Southern Africa (Eswatini, South Africa) for almost twenty years on projects about mortality, gender-sexuality, and spirituality. I completed books about HIV/AIDS funerals, long-term care, culture and nationalism, and, soon, a critical edition of the work of a trailblazing African anthropologist-journalist named Regina Gelana Twala.

What drew you to this project?

At first, I was interested the changing national health care policies – a compare and contrast of South Africa’s National Health Insurance (NHI) program and the US’ Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act (Obamacare). The stories I heard from care providers and patients themselves inspired me to explore how they navigate this changing landscape and make meaning of mental health and illness.

What was one of the most interesting findings?

To me, that providers saw or believed there were intra-racial differences in care seeking among white clientele, that families of British and other European descent contrasted to Afrikaans families. For the providers I met, the former group was more active in seeking dementia diagnoses for their older relatives and accepting of a diagnosis, whereas the latter somehow construed dementia in shameful terms as something to be hidden.

What are you reading, listening to, and/or watching right now?

These days I’m reading and thinking a lot about angels. I’m interested in why, how and when we culturally characterize other people as angelic. As it is also now nearing Halloween, I am watching plenty of scary movies and television shows.

If there was one takeaway or action point you hope people will get from your work, what would it be?

From my work more broadly, I hope that people (readers, researchers) will give themselves grace in the face of difficult circumstances (personal troubles, writing block, research issues), namely some partial acceptance that you’ve done your best or at least as much as you could’ve done with what you’ve had at hand. I learned this lesson from many patients and providers like those you meet in this article.

Interview with Manon Arminot and Lara Haghiri Ghazvini 

As part of our ongoing content, we feature authors who have published in Culture, Medicine, and Psychiatry.

Today, we are excited to bring you our interview with Manon Arminot and Lara Haghiri Ghazvini!

Manon Arminot
Lara Haghiri Ghazvini

What is your article “Cultural Countertransference of Young Clinicians Facing a State of Possession: A Cultural Case Study” about?


The article is a case study about a patient that displayed a state of possession during a session of the transcultural therapy group, in the Avicenne Hospital (Bobigny, France).


Tell us a little bit about yourself and your research interests.


Manon : I am approaching my final year of residency in psychiatry and I specialised in child and adolescent psychiatry. I am currently writing a paper about the links between learning disabilities and psychopathology.

Lara : I am a psychiatric resident leaning towards my fourth year. At the moment I am specializing in addictology and working on my thesis. It investigates the experience of the disclosure of sexual assault that occured during childhood in the population of adults with immigrants parents.


What drew you to this project?

This project was developed over different stages. The transcultural therapy group has open spots for a few students every semester. It is during their first group session that Manon and Lara witnessed the possession state studied in the article. The experienced therapists (Marie-Rose Moro, Thierry Baubet, Théo Mouhoud) asked them to work on their countertransference after seeing them deeply puzzled after the session. A first meeting with the therapy group was organized to talk about Manon and Lara’s work. The exchanges between the students and the experienced therapists led to more questions and finally to the project of writing an article about this case.

Manon and Lara : The main thing that drew us to this project was curiosity. We wanted to understand what happened and why, and were curious to discover more about the patient and her symptoms. As psychiatric residents we also wanted to be able to have the means to help patients that show similar symptoms.
What was one of the most interesting findings? Thinking about the case through the cultural counter-transference lens shifted our clinical understanding of the case. It showed us that thinking about the patient, individually and as a group, can deeply influence his clinical evolution.

What are you reading, listening to, and/or watching right now?


Manon : I am currently reading “Beloved” by Toni Morrisson. I recently discovered “Out of the Blue” by Dennis Hopper, a heartbreaking movie about violence and trauma.


Lara : I am currently reading “Our share of the night” by Mariana Enriquez, an Argentinian novel in the steps of Gabriel Garcia Marquez “One hundred years of solitude”, regarding its intergenerational study of trauma through magical-realism. I was also moved recently by “The Fly”, by David Cronenberg.

If there was one takeaway or action point you hope people will get from your work, what would it be?


It would be continuing to involve students in therapy groups such as the transcultural group : they learn from it but you can also learn from them. As new generations of patients and therapists arrive, transcultural psychiatry has to adapt itself and evolve.

Interview with Hisako Wada and Tadaaki Furuhashi

As part of our ongoing content, we feature authors who have published in Culture, Medicine, and Psychiatry.

Today, we are excited to bring you our interview with Hisako Wada and Tadaaki Furuhashi!

Hisako Wada

What is your article “Six Core Conflictual Themes Identified in the Narratives of Hikikomori“ about?

This article explores the lived experiences of people experiencing hikikomori. We were interested in gaining a deeper understanding of how people experiencing hikikomori make sense of their lives and struggles through their own narratives.

Through qualitative analysis of participants’ narratives, we identified six recurring conflictual themes that appeared across individual stories. What emerged was not a single cause or explanation for hikikomori, but the ways participants described struggling with tensions around agency, belonging, achievement, self-worth, and relationships.

Our findings point to the importance of understanding hikikomori not simply as an expression of individual psychopathology, but as an ongoing social–existential struggle shaped by personal vulnerabilities, relationships, and broader social and cultural worlds.

Tell us a little bit about yourself and your research interests.

I work in international student support, advising, and counselling at Nagoya University in Japan, while also maintaining a psychotherapy practice. At Nagoya University, more than 2,500 international students from over 100 countries are enrolled, and the backgrounds and needs of international students have become increasingly diverse.  Some have experienced conflict, trauma, or other forms of structural vulnerability, while others have navigated a wide range of social, cultural, and personal challenges. Many also face the task of building a life in Japan while navigating a new language, culture, relationships, and academic environment.

Through both research and clinical practice, I have become interested in how psychological suffering takes shape through the interplay of people’s life histories, relationships, and broader sociocultural contexts. I have found myself drawn to questions of how people encounter existential tensions and make sense of themselves amid uncertainty, contradiction, and competing social demands, as well as the role of shame in these processes.

In response to the needs of an increasingly diverse student population, I have been exploring how trauma-informed care (TIC) can be meaningfully integrated into Japanese university settings.

What drew you to this project?

I was initially invited to join this project by senior colleagues at my institution. As I became more involved in the research, I came to see hikikomori as reflecting not only experiences of withdrawal and isolation but also broader questions about how people navigate the challenges and uncertainties of contemporary life. It also led me to think more deeply about the ways in which rapid social change can create new forms of vulnerability and existential struggle.

What was one of the most interesting findings?

What stood out to me most was that, despite the uniqueness of each person’s story, similar struggles emerged across many narratives, even among people whose lives and circumstances were remarkably different. These recurring tensions seemed to reinforce one another over time. Rather than existing as isolated difficulties, they may form self-perpetuating cycles that deepen feelings of uncertainty, isolation, and paralysis. The findings also highlighted the importance of understanding the underlying struggles that may persist beneath outward social participation, whether or not people have returned to work, school, or other social roles.

Taken together, these findings call for a broader understanding of hikikomori—one that looks beyond social withdrawal to the underlying struggles through which people seek to develop a viable sense of self and place in contemporary society.

What are you reading, listening to, and/or watching right now?

I enjoy reading for pleasure, but I also read clinical, anthropological, and philosophical works in connection with my work. I recently read Guilt and Shame by Dr Jan McGregor Hepburn and A Different Existence: Principles of Phenomenological Psychopathology by Dr Jan Hendrik van den Berg.

I also enjoy listening to a wide range of music, including performances featured on Tiny Desk Concerts. Living in Japan, I appreciate being able to discover music and artists from many different cultures and parts of the world.

If there was one takeaway or action point you hope people will get from your work, what would it be?

Through my work with people from diverse backgrounds and through my research on hikikomori, I have been continually reminded that much of what matters is not yet known—often not only by those around us, but also by the people themselves. Staying curious, resisting premature closure, and remaining with what is not yet known have become essential to my work.

I hope this work encourages greater curiosity about the lives and experiences that lie behind suffering, and greater attentiveness to the relationships, contexts, and vulnerabilities that shape them, rather than reducing people’s experiences to individual psychopathology.

Tadaaki Furuhashi

What is your article “Six Core Conflictual Themes Identified in the Narratives of Hikikomori“ about?

I think that Dr Wada, the first author, will explain this point, but this paper is about hikikomori (social withdrawal). Whilst the diversity of hikikomori is often highlighted, this is a thoroughly researched paper that delves into the question of what constitutes the common essence of hikikomori.

Tell us a little bit about yourself and your research interests.

I have been studying French psychiatry and psychoanalysis, and have stayed in France often. As I did so, I found that there were young people also in France who withdraw from society (i.e. “Hikikomori”) just like the socially withdrawn students I usually consult at Nagoya University. Thus I began to indicate that they could be explained more with the word “Hikikomori”. In France, there were young people who had socially withdrawn from before, however, there was no term to refer to them. Currently, there are some French Hikikomori that I regularly follow-up, and there are times I am asked to give a lecture in various parts of France and recently also in other European countries (UK, the Netherlands, Sweden, etc.). Leaving that aside, after all, it is necessary to have some kind of traditional base of existing psychiatry to academically describe what kind of new phenomena it is.

Please refer to the website below for further details.

LinkedIn

https://www.linkedin.com/in/furuhashi-tadaaki-70301aaa/?locale=fr

ResearchGate

https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Tadaaki-Furuhashi?ev=hdr_xprf

Nagoya University

https://profs.provost.nagoya-u.ac.jp/html/100003201_en.html

What drew you to this project?

Hikikomori is a culture-bound phenomenon; in terms of research methodology, the priority lies in describing its clinical characteristics rather than identifying its causes. The first author, Dr Wada, had the idea of describing these characteristics in detail within this paper, and I was strongly drawn to that idea.

What was one of the most interesting findings?

It is that hikikomori has been understood within a cultural and social context, and that the inner worlds they experience and the characteristics of those inner worlds have been clinically described in detail.

What are you reading, listening to, and/or watching right now?

I read a great deal of Japanese and French philosophy and fiction. This is because these works are closely linked to my clinical interests.

If there was one takeaway or action point you hope people will get from your work, what would it be?

When we encounter the clinical problem of hikikomori, we tend to immediately wonder how to resolve it; however, it is important to first properly understand the inner worlds they experience.

Interview with Émilie Tremblay and Sandra Harrisson 

As part of our ongoing content, we feature authors who have published in Culture, Medicine, and Psychiatry.

Today, we are excited to bring you our interview with Émilie Tremblay and Sandra Harrisson!

Émilie Tremblay
Sandra Harrisson

What is your article “Bridging Perspectives: Young Activists’ Stories and Intergenerational Dialogue on Mental Health and Climate Change in Canada” about?

The article, part of Émilie’s doctoral thesis, examines the emotional impact of climate change on young adults, particularly environmental activists, through an ecofeminist lens. By highlighting the links between systemic oppression and the environmental crisis, the study deepens understanding of the social and emotional dynamics that shape social engagement. Its two-part analysis, which involves young activist adults creating digital stories, followed by an intergenerational focus group with non-activist individuals, identifies key themes such as climate-related experiences and emotions, intergenerational injustice, and collective hope.

Tell us a little bit about yourself and your research interests.

Émilie is a registered nurse and a dedicated member of the Canadian Association of Nurses for the Environment (CANE). She serves on the Policy Development Committee and is currently the President. She completed her PhD at the University of Ottawa in 2026 and is pursuing postdoctoral studies at Queen’s University. Her research interests include critical theory, ecofeminism, planetary health, and climate-related experiences and emotions.

Sandra is a registered nurse and an Associate Professor at the University of Ottawa. Her research program focuses on mental health, aging, collaborative research, the history of health, and feminist critical theory. She has developed expertise in implementing and transforming practices—particularly in community, care, and home settings—thereby contributing to sustainable organizational change. She co-created the Pleasurable Moment Enhancing Approach, which promotes well-being among older adults and their families, strengthens professional competencies, and fosters a strong sense of teamwork.

What drew you to this project?

Émilie’s interest in this subject was sparked by her high school education, which introduced her to the potential repercussions of global warming. She felt worried and fearful about the future. These feelings have always accompanied her, intensifying year after year as the ecological crisis worsened. Her motivation to get involved in this cause is mainly driven by her studies and her professional experience as a nurse. This background has helped her understand the connection between environmental health and human health. She realized that if we do not change how we function as a society, the negative impacts of environmental degradation on human health will only worsen. Additionally, her motivation stems from the urgent awareness that human activities worsen the degradation of our planet, thereby accelerating global warming.

Sandra’s interest in this subject stemmed from Émilie’s enthusiasm and passion for her doctoral topic. It also stemmed from her own history of environmental activism during her adolescence and young adulthood. While her stance on preserving natural resources has not changed, Sandra’s engagement has evolved over the years toward more personal forms of action. She saw herself reflected in Émilie. This project sparked several meaningful

discussions between them, particularly about how young adults perceive previous generations in relation to environmental degradation—often feeling that too little was done to protect the planet. These reflections ultimately led to the inclusion of a focus group with participants from various age groups.

What was one of the most interesting findings?

In the literature, environmental activism is generally recognized for its benefits to mental health, mitigating the psychological impacts of climate change. However, the young adult activists in this study also emphasized that their increased engagement sometimes intensified their climate-related emotions, such as worry, feelings of inadequacy, or distress, rather than alleviating them. Although the activist identity allows them to define themselves and give meaning to their involvement, the urgency of the situation and the constant pressure to act sometimes lead them to feel responsible for compensating for others’ inaction, thus taking on the burden of fighting climate change. This can generate intense emotions and may lead to burnout. It then becomes essential to consider emotional support strategies within activist communities, as well as a more equitable distribution of responsibilities in facing the climate crisis. These approaches could help preserve the mental health of younger generations while strengthening the sustainability of their engagement, which is crucial in the fight against climate change.

What are you reading, listening to, and/or watching right now?

Émilie is currently reading The Silence in Between by Josie Ferguson, a work of historical fiction that follows a family’s experience when the Berlin Wall border closes overnight. She is drawn to novels like this because they offer insight into how major global events of the past continue to shape contemporary society. In particular, the story highlights the ideological divide between the two sides of Berlin: West Berlin, capitalist and democratic, influenced by the United States, Great Britain, and France; and East Berlin, communist, influenced by the Soviet Union.

Sandra is currently reading The Production of Space (1991) by Henri Lefebvre, which allows her to question spaces shaped by the social production of superstructures. According to the author, the dialectic of space unfolds in three dimensions: (1) the perception of space, which frames daily routines and the use of space (places and practices); (2) the representation of space through signs, codes, and formal rules (official discourses); and (3) the lived experience of space (its practical enactment). This framework enables Sandra to adopt a critical perspective on how different spaces and interspaces shape the transmission of dominant discourses and their influence, or lack thereof, on individuals across various contexts, including environmental preservation.

If there was one takeaway or action point you hope people will get from your work, what would it be?

Climate-related responses, including personal experiences (behaviours, thoughts, and reactions) and emotions (perceptions and feelings), should not be suppressed or avoided, as they are normal adaptive responses to the threat of climate change. It is imperative that health professionals understand these responses to better support individuals in their care who are experiencing them, helping them acknowledge these emotional reactions, as this can strengthen emotional resilience and encourage mutually beneficial actions that support both mental health and the environment.

Interview with José Palacios Ramírez, Joaquín Rodes García, and Antonio M. Nogués Pedregal

As part of our ongoing content, we feature authors who have published in Culture, Medicine, and Psychiatry.

Today, we are excited to bring you our interview with José Palacios Ramírez, Joaquín Rodes García, and Antonio M. Nogués Pedregal!

José Palacios Ramírez
Joaquín Rodes García
Antonio M. Nogués Pedregal

Note from the Author: Before diving into the questions, I would like to clarify that although I spearheaded the project and conducted the interview, the work reflected in this article was developed by a three-person team: my colleagues Joaquín Rodes (Sociologist), Antonio M. Nogués (Anthropologist), and myself. Without my colleagues’ support, these findings would have been impossible.

What is your article “Abusive Practices, Self-regulation Strategies, and the Language of Addiction: Narratives Surrounding Problematic Smartphone Use in Southeastern Spanish Youth“ about?

Well, the article presents findings from a broader project focused on the assemblage of what is popularly known as “technological addictions”. In this project, we sought to triangulate several perspectives:

Young people without any diagnosed issues.

Youth who have received some form of diagnosis or treatment for this type of problem.

Professionals from the “psy” disciplines who address it through treatment or prevention.

Specifically, the article examines how different youth profiles—differentiated by age, gender, and risk level—narrate the day-to-day management of their relationship with smartphones. Essentially, it looks at how they strive for a balance between abusive practices (such as excessive screen time, digital bingeing, late-night use affecting daily activities, and constant distraction) and forms of self-regulation (including brief periods of abstinence, maternal assistance, and digital apps) to gain a sense of control over their digital habits.

It is within this search for balance that we noticed many of them—especially those reporting the most difficulty finding equilibrium—referred to themselves as “addicts”. They frequently used metaphors related to substance abuse, such as “being hooked” or “going through withdrawal”. Drawing on authors like Raikhel and Vrecko, we have termed this the “language of addiction”.

Tell us a little bit about yourself and your research interests.

I am a social anthropologist, and for the past 20 years, my teaching and research have focused on areas within psychological and medical anthropology. Specifically, and following the works of authors like I. Hacking or M. Foucault, I study how individuals perceive themselves in relation to expert knowledge and institutions that label and classify them.

While I have also worked on topics like childhood obesity and alternative therapies, over the years I have been particularly drawn to issues tied to addiction. This includes the transformation process of individuals within the Alcoholics Anonymous program in Mexico, or recreational substance use among youth in Spain.

What drew you to this project?

For quite some time, I have been fascinated by the paradoxical relationship that we, as a society, are developing with digital technologies. On one hand, we are increasingly concerned about the power these devices have to control us or our children. On the other hand, these digitalization processes seem non-negotiable. Even though we lack public transparency regarding the internal design of these devices, voicing any concern often brands us as romantically opposed to progress.

It is precisely within this framework that the topic intersects with my research interests in addiction. I believe that applying this concept to the abuse of digital technologies allows us to draw conclusions about the present while offering a glimpse into how addictions will be governed in the near future. This upcoming governance will likely operate under a logic very similar to today’s “responsible gaming” frameworks in gambling. I am referring to dynamics such as moving away from the war on drugs, the liberalization of evasion and therapeutic markets (as noted by D. Schüll), or an exclusively individualized framing of responsibility for these processes.

What was one of the most interesting findings?

For me, the most compelling finding is the idea that the unstable balances between abusive practices and self-control solidify into more or less problematic usage profiles depending on contextual factors.

In that regard, the emergence of the “language of addiction” within these narratives provided the clue to theorize that this framework of balance between abuse and self-control—shot through with constant questioning about whether one is engaging in addictive behavior—can be interpreted as a “culture of addiction”.

What are you reading, listening to, and/or watching right now?

For some time now, I have been reading futuristic and dystopian novels where technology plays a central role. I find classics by authors like A. Huxley, G. Orwell, U. Le Guin, or P.K. Dick highly engaging. I am also watching movies and TV series that explore this theme, as I would like to write an essay on the human relationship with technology and the concept of imagining the future.

When it comes to music, I am quite eclectic. I really enjoy the 1970s post-hippie scene and love Neil Young. However, I also listen to contemporary music, such as the latest work by Uruguayan singer-songwriter Jorge Drexler, or young Spanish musicians who are updating traditional folk music, like Carlos Ares or Rodrigo Cuevas.

If there was one takeaway or action point you hope people will get from your work, what would it be?

Using the concept of addiction in relation to digital technologies can initially serve as a useful tool to draw public and political attention to the need for design transparency or regulating children’s access.

However, in the long run, this framework is problematic because it individualizes responsibility and stigmatizes people. In a way, it can mask a widespread societal trend of technological abuse, when what is truly needed is political regulation, transparency, and education for mindful usage. The call to action here is that achieving this more desirable socio-political framework—one that avoids offloading all responsibility onto parents and youth—is only possible if we mobilize social movements to push in that direction.

Interview with Naru Fukuchi

As part of our ongoing content, we feature authors who have published in Culture, Medicine, and Psychiatry.

Today, we are excited to bring you our interview with Naru Fukuchi!

What is your article “Children’s Everyday Actions After Disaster: Cultural Meaning, Developmental Timing, and Moral Agency in Post-disaster Japan” about?

This article explores how children’s everyday behaviors after the Great East Japan Earthquake can be understood not simply as symptoms or “problem behaviors,” but as culturally and developmentally meaningful adaptations.

After the disaster, I visited schools, evacuation shelters, and temporary housing sites throughout Miyagi Prefecture. There, I observed children quietly playing video games together, hiding shoes, giving away sweets, and showing unusual reactions around food and money. At first, I interpreted these behaviors from a psychiatric perspective. However, over time, I began to feel that symptom-based explanations alone were insufficient.

For example, the repeated “shoe hiding” behavior initially appeared to be simple mischief. But when teachers and I explored the behavior more carefully, it seemed that children were repeatedly recreating the emotional experience of “losing something important and finding it again.” Through play, they may have been trying to restore a sense of safety and predictability.

In this article, I interpret these behaviors through the lenses of cultural psychiatry, developmental psychology, and medical anthropology. I wanted to suggest that children are not only passive victims of disaster, but also active participants in rebuilding meaning, morality, and relationships within their communities.

Tell us a little bit about yourself and your research interests.

I originally began my career as a pediatrician before moving into psychiatry, and I now work as an Associate Professor in the Department of Psychiatry, Faculty of Medicine, Tohoku Medical and Pharmaceutical University, where I practice as a child and adolescent psychiatrist in Japan. During graduate school, I specialized in public health and conducted epidemiological research on suicide within communities.

Because of this background, I have long been interested not only in individual psychiatric symptoms, but also in community mental health and the social environments that shape people’s wellbeing.

After the Great East Japan Earthquake in 2011, I joined outreach teams that visited evacuation shelters and temporary housing sites. Later that same year, the Miyagi Disaster Mental Health Care Center was established, and I became one of its founding members. Eventually, I served as the director of the center.

Even now, fifteen years after the disaster, I continue to conduct home visits and school visits in affected communities. Recovery is not simply about rebuilding infrastructure; it is also about how relationships, daily life, trust, and cultural meaning are gradually reconstructed over time.

My research interests include disaster mental health, child and adolescent psychiatry, community mental health, cultural psychiatry, and medical anthropology. I am especially interested in how culture shapes the ways people suffer, recover, connect with others, and rebuild meaning after crises.

What drew you to this project?

Immediately after the earthquake, I entered the field primarily as a child psychiatrist. I was trained to observe psychiatric symptoms and trauma-related reactions, and initially I approached the children in that way.

However, in schools and shelters, I repeatedly encountered situations that could not be fully explained through symptom-based psychiatry alone. There were many phenomena that only became understandable when viewed at the level of the community, relationships, and Japanese society more broadly.

At the same time, I had opportunities to learn about disaster recovery processes in other countries. Through those experiences, I gradually realized how deeply culture and mental health are connected. Every society has its own ways of expressing distress, maintaining relationships, and restoring meaning after disasters.

This led me to ask broader questions: What aspects of Japanese post-disaster recovery are culturally shaped? How are ideas such as harmony, reciprocity, endurance, and collective responsibility formed? And what kinds of support actually help communities recover in culturally meaningful ways?

I also conduct quantitative research and statistical analyses, and I value evidence-based approaches very much. But I began to feel that some realities cannot be fully captured through numbers alone. I wanted to share the interpretations and questions that emerged from my field experiences and invite others to think about them together.

What was one of the most interesting findings?

One of the most memorable experiences for me was the “shoe hiding” phenomenon described in the article.

Teachers at several schools noticed that children were repeatedly hiding each other’s indoor shoes. They felt that something about the behavior was unusual, but they could not fully explain why. Even I initially thought, “This probably has nothing to do with the disaster.”

However, as we explored the behavior together, it gradually became clear that many psychological and symbolic meanings might be embedded within it. The children had all experienced sudden loss during the tsunami. Important things had disappeared instantly and unpredictably.

I eventually began to understand the repeated cycle of “losing and finding” as a form of post-traumatic play.

There is actually a story I did not include in the paper. At one point, we intentionally introduced a playful “Easter egg” activity in which children hid and found objects together within a structured game. Interestingly, after that experience, the shoe hiding behavior almost completely disappeared.

That experience left a deep impression on me. It reminded me that children often recover through play, relationships, and shared meaning-making rather than through direct verbal explanation alone.

What are you reading, listening to, and/or watching right now?

Recently, I have become very interested in LEGO® Serious Play®. Rather than simply building objects for fun, it is a method that uses LEGO to support communication, reflection, therapy, and team building. I also became a certified facilitator.

I use it in work with children, families, and professional teams. Through these experiences, I have increasingly felt that individual treatment alone has limits. If we truly want to support mental health, we also need to create healthier environments, relationships, and communities.

I am also currently reading Reinventing Organizations by Frédéric Laloux, which explores how organizations can be structured around trust, self-management, and shared purpose rather than hierarchy and control. It resonates deeply with my growing interest in how communities and care systems can become more alive and human-centered.

This has made me think more deeply about how people build trust, form connections, and create spaces where they feel psychologically safe. Perhaps that is one reason why I was drawn to LEGO in the first place.

I have also been reading more works in medical anthropology and cultural psychiatry recently, especially writings that explore care, community, loneliness, and social connection in contemporary society.

If there was one takeaway or action point you hope people will get from your work, what would it be?

I hope readers will become a little more cautious about interpreting children’s behaviors too quickly as pathology or “symptoms.”

Children often express distress, recovery, morality, and hope in indirect ways. Sometimes these expressions appear through play, silence, sharing, rituals, or seemingly strange everyday behaviors.

I hope this work encourages people to ask not only “What symptoms does this child have?” but also “What meaning might this behavior hold within this child’s relationships, culture, and lived experience?”

Children are not simply passive victims after disasters. They are also active participants in rebuilding connection, meaning, and community.

Boyer 2026 Award

The Society for Psychological Anthropology is now accepting nominations for the 2026 Boyer Prize for the best published contribution to psychoanalytic anthropology. This year, the Boyer Prize will be awarded to an article with an original publication date between June 1, 2024 and May 31, 2026. The deadline for submission is June 15, 2026.

For more information about the Boyer Prize, including eligibility criteria, please visit the SPA website: spa.americananthro.org/prizes

Stirling Prize 2026

The Society for Psychological Anthropology is now accepting nominations for the 2026 Stirling Prize for the best published work in psychological anthropology. This year, the Stirling Prize will be awarded to a book with an original publication date between June 1, 2024 and May 31, 2026. The deadline for submission is June 15, 2026.

For more information about the Stirling Prize, including eligibility criteria, please visit the SPA website: spa.americananthro.org/prizes

Interview with Eugene Raikhel

As part of our ongoing content, we feature authors who have published in Culture, Medicine, and Psychiatry.

Today, we are excited to bring you our interview with Eugene Raikhel!

What is the article “What Crisis? Competing Narratives of Mental Health in US Higher Education “about?

The article draws on interviews that I conducted with mental health professionals who work with college students as part of a broader project on college mental health. Over the past few years we’ve collectively heard a lot about the “college mental health crisis” in popular discourse. In this article, I argue that mental health professionals have a range of very nuanced perspectives on the idea of a “college mental health crisis” and I trace five distinct ways in which they frame and understand the problem. Some of these framings stand in tension to one another, while others complement one another.

Tell us a little bit about yourself and your research interests.

I am a cultural, medical, and psychological anthropologist and an Associate Professor in the Department of Comparative Human Development at the University of Chicago. My research interests generally cluster around what philosopher Ian Hacking has called “looping effects” – the multiple ways in which forms of knowledge, particularly in the domain of psychiatry and mental health – come to shape the lives and actions of people who live under their classifications, and how these actions in turn come to transform expert knowledge. I’ve looked at such issues in a historical ethnography of addiction medicine in post-Soviet Russia, and I’m currently examining them in a study which asks how ideas and enactments of mental health and illness are transforming in higher education settings.

What drew you to this project?

A number of years ago, while teaching a course about culture and mental health, I noticed that students seemed to be speaking about their own experiences with mental illness conditions in ways that seemed novel to me. These certainly were not the conversations that I remembered from my own college experiences in the 1990s. There was more disclosure, but beyond that, more identification with diagnoses, and generally more complex engagement with the issues raised by labels, medications, talk therapy, and more. It seemed that something in the culture at large was changing and this peaked my ethnographic interest. The broader study that I’m working on, tentatively titled “Degrees of Distress: College and the Transformation of Mental Health,” emerged from these early observations.

What was one of the most interesting findings?

We tend to think of medicalization or psychiatrization as processes being driven at least in part by professionals working to expand their jurisdictions. According to this logic, you would think that the psy professionals involved in college mental health would be always trying to attract more students to the counseling center and place more types of conditions under the framework of what they properly address. And while this is certainly the case to some degree, I found that many mental health professionals working with college students, and particularly directors of counseling centers, were both contesting the medicalization of mental health and arguing for a way of addressing mental health issues which would use more of the whole campus. Part of this is because many counseling centers have found themselves struggling to address the demand for services for many years now, and people are increasingly thinking of how to distribute various forms of care throughout a college or university. But it is also the case that many counselors want to maintain a space for interacting with students around problems which are not medicalized from the start; rather than the aim of therapy being symptom reduction, they want students to be able to make meaning out of experiences which have challenged them. So there’s a kind of active resistance to the medicalization of mental health among many of the professionals which was very interesting to find.

What are you reading, listening to, and/or watching right now?

I’m reading Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro, a novel told from the point of view of a humanoid robot with artificial intelligence. Given that my project has gotten me paying attention to the ways that some young people are increasingly turning to AI for help with mental health issues, as well as for various forms of companionship, this book has been great to think with.

If there was one takeaway or action point you hope people will get from your work, what would it be?

Simply that it is important to not reduce the problem of college mental health to individual psychopathology. Such a framing also assumes that the only intervention which needs to be made is at the individual level – providing more access to therapy and medication – and while these are important tools, many counselors clearly agree that they are not adequate to addressing this problem “upstream”. At the same time, it is also the case that these same counselors and counseling center directors don’t usually have the tools to address upstream and structural causes.