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November 20, 2025 — This year, 2025, has felt heavy. At times, the moments of resilience, hope, and community have been overshadowed by a campaign of anti-trans legislation and toxic rhetoric. It’s a pervasive storm of violence that has led to measurable loss — from the erosion of access to life-saving gender-affirming care, to the many lives taken too soon this year. Bearing witness to this trauma has intensified the mental health crisis within the trans community to a breaking point. Today, we observe Transgender Day of Remembrance, a time to mourn the lives lost to anti-trans violence. The truth of this year’s loss, captured in Advocates For Trans Equality’s 2025 Remembrance Report, is staggering. There have been 58 known trans people who have passed away since last November. Of that number, 27 were lost to acts of violence, and 21 were lost to suicide. These statistics represent a devastating toll that underscores the profound distress caused by systemic transphobia and isolation. We know that these numbers are tragically incomplete, as violence, especially against trans women of color, is vastly underreported. Yet, the data we do have is clear: 63% of the known violent deaths were Black trans women, a brutal reminder that race and gender identity intersect to create disproportionate risk. And 61% of all those lost to suicide were trans youth ages 15-24, a reminder of the essential need to support young people in their moments of vulnerability. Each person lost represents a future denied. This loss is not abstract; it is felt deeply and collectively throughout our community. To every transgender person carrying the weight of this loss, I want to acknowledge the monumental, revolutionary strength it takes to keep showing up. To stare down a world that demands your conformity and still make the bravest decision one could make — to choose yourself — is an act of profound courage. To our allies, thank you for showing up with us today. We are standing together in this moment, turning our grief into a powerful movement for change, dignity, and life. This crisis demands action beyond solidarity. Allies must recognize the urgency of this moment and step forward to actively protect the trans community. Thank you for supporting the trans people in your life and coming on this journey with us. Whatever feelings this day evokes, remember you do not have to carry them alone. Active Minds welcomes you to bring yourself and your grief to experience them in community. We are here for you. At Active Minds, you are more than just welcome. You are seen. You belong. You are supported. You are safe. Need Extra Support Today? On difficult days like today, resources are available from those who understand. If you are experiencing a moment of crisis, please reach out to these vital lines for peer and mental health support: Call Blackline at 1-800-604-5841 Call TransLifeline at (877) 565-8860 Call Trevor Project at 866-488-7386 or Text START to 678-678

November 10, 2025 — At Active Minds, we believe in the power of young leaders to transform the mental health landscape. Our Youth Spotlight series is dedicated to celebrating exceptional young people who are founders, advocates, and changemakers, using their passion and purpose to create real impact in their communities and beyond. Advocacy and Policy Youth Spotlight: Diya Mankotia   We are incredibly proud to shine a light on this month’s featured leader: Diya Mankotia, a 17-year-old senior based in Austin, Texas. 

November 7, 2025 — As a young woman of color, I’ve learned that culture isn’t just about remembering where we come from; it’s about keeping those memories alive through movement, creativity, and community. My connection to my heritage has always been strongest when I’m dancing or creating art with my hands. For me, both Mexican folklórico dancing and the Ojo de Dios, or “Eye of God,” are expressions of resilience, faith, and identity. When I first started dancing in middle school, it was the first time I truly felt something. I was never athletic or into sports, and ballet wasn’t something I could afford or felt drawn to. But when I discovered ballet folklórico, something clicked. The colorful skirts, the rhythmic steps, the music that echoed through each performance… they all carried stories that words alone could never tell. It felt like it was made for me because it came from my background. Each dance was like learning about myself, a form of finding myself within movement, color, and community. Although folklórico dancing is often associated with Mexican culture, it has deep Indigenous roots that connect traditions across the Southwest. In my home state, it’s more than performance — it’s storytelling. It’s a living archive of our community’s survival, celebration, and adaptation. And for me, it has become a form of mental health care, a way to express emotions I was never taught to name. Each dance is a history lesson in motion. The way we move our feet, the way the ribbons or scarves flow, even the designs of our clothing, they all have meaning. Through dancing, I’ve learned patience, discipline, and pride in who I am. I’ve also learned that joy is a form of resistance. For Native and Indigenous people, simply existing in our traditions — smiling, dancing, singing — is an act of defiance against centuries that tried to silence us. The Ojo de Dios holds a similar kind of power. I grew up seeing them everywhere, hanging on doors, walls, and altars in the homes of my tías, tíos, and family friends, without ever really knowing what they meant. Traditionally made by the Huichol and Tepehuán people of Mexico, the Ojo de Dios represents the four elements and the ability to see and understand what is unseen. In my community, creating one is a small act of love and intention. Each layer of yarn represents a loved one, the outer layer is often a male figure, maybe a cousin who loves tomatoes, symbolized by red for his strength and the joy he brings to your life. The next layer might be blue, for my grandmother’s eyes and her kindness, or green, for the growth we hope to nurture within ourselves and our community. As the threads cross, they form a pattern that feels sacred, a woven reflection of connection, gratitude, and balance. Making an Ojo de Dios is also an act of mindfulness. Every turn of the yarn feels like a prayer, a grounding in the present. In my culture, we don’t often talk about emotions or go to counseling. Healing isn’t spoken; it’s lived. It happens through tradition, through family, through showing up for one another even when words fail. When I create or dance, silence becomes expression. I don’t need to explain what I feel, it’s already there in the rhythm, in the colors, in the movement. That is my form of counseling. And while I believe our communities deserve access to real mental health support in the future, I also believe we need to meet people where they are. For many of us, healing happens in these spaces, through art, movement, and shared culture, because that’s where we feel seen, comfortable, and whole. To me, mental health and culture aren’t separate — they sustain each other. The Ojo de Dios teaches patience; dancing teaches courage. Both remind me that wellness comes from remembering who you are. This Native American Heritage Month, I hope others find strength in their own cultural roots — whether through art, language, music, or movement. Because when we honor where we come from, we begin to heal where we are.

October 21, 2025 — Caregiving is a weighted word — especially for Gen-Z, now at the forefront of family care. For me, it brings up many feelings, like frustration and stress. A caregiver supports a loved one through physical help, emotional care, or financial aid. The role is deeply personal. For some, it's a cultural expectation, making it a big part of who they are. For others, it's an unavoidable duty, something that they didn’t have much say in.  Caring.com reported that about 72% of Gen-Z plan to provide some type of care for their parents. And for those who are already providing care, this can be not only a physically and economically exhausting job, but also a mentally taxing one. Young adults already manage school, work, and social life; caregiving is one more responsibility piled on their plates. This all can cause social isolation, academic burnout, and professional struggles.   Gen-Z is quickly becoming the new face of family caregiving, often influenced by cultural or familial responsibility. I invited two fellow Gen-Z caregivers, Jorge Alvarez (a full-time professional) and Carolyn Dao (a full-time student), to share their unique experiences with me through a series of Q&As. Learn more about them below!  What does providing caregiving for your family mean to you, and what does it look like? Jorge: For me, caregiving isn’t just about stepping into a role you didn’t expect, but doing so, surely, out of love, but often out of necessity. I became a caregiver for my mom in less than 24 hours, without much preparation, after she had a major surgery. I supported her with everything from bathing and feeding her to coordinating appointments; all while adjusting to adulthood and living on my own for the first time. It was overwhelming, but it taught me how important it is to have plans for caregiving or at least know where to find resources and learn more about what support systems exist for us.  How has your view on caregiving evolved throughout your experiences with it? Carolyn: Before I started taking care of my grandparents, I thought that mainly older adults did it as a full-time job. But growing up, my dad, aunts, and uncles would all pitch in to assist my grandparents. I thought that I could be a kid for a little longer. However, I realized that being a caregiver can start at any age. Caregiving allowed me to have an early look at how adults manage to balance all sorts of things, and taught me how to balance out caregiving, school, and mental health.   Research has shown that caregiving for a family member can bring up a lot of complex emotions. What feelings have come up for you in your caregiving journey?  Jorge: I’ve felt love and gratitude, but also resentment, guilt, exhaustion, and fear. There were moments when I felt like I had to put my life on pause, and that was hard to accept. I constantly questioned if I was doing enough or doing it “right.” I felt guilty and anxious when I couldn’t help. It’s a deeply human experience that pushes you to confront your limits while trying to protect someone else’s dignity, while prioritizing your own mental health and well-being. What support has been helpful in processing your feelings and taking care of your mental health throughout your experiences with caregiving? Are there any resources that you think are missing to better support caregivers? Carolyn: Having open conversations with those I trust helped me carry the weight on my shoulders. They allowed me to speak my mind while understanding the situation I was in. While there are support systems out there for adult caregivers, there are not many for Gen-Z ones, as they are just as capable and experience the [same] emotions.  Caregiving is a difficult, yet often unrecognized, job that impacts the mental health of young adults. Active Minds recognizes that caregiving duties significantly impact the mental health of young adults. That’s why we encourage you to join us for our upcoming caregiving workshop — either to learn about caregiving or share your own challenges and experiences as a caregiver.  Let’s work together to identify and shape resource ideas for Gen-Z caregivers like you and me. Register today to join us for a workshop on caregiving on Thursday, November 13th at 7:00 PM ET!

October 19, 2025 — We are excited to celebrate Hume R-VIII School as our October Chapter of the Month! This chapter turned a powerful vision into a beautiful reality, and we're highlighting their commitment to mental well-being. Their success is rooted in strong initiatives driven by students, from hosting a speaker on connection and anti-bullying strategies to leading the creation of a powerful community mural. What began as a vision to promote awareness through art manifested as a resounding success thanks to the power of community collaboration. Read the Q&A below to find out how this small chapter made such a big, colorful impact! Tell us about your school & chapter. We are a small Pre-K through 12 public school in rural Missouri. We launched our chapter last year, and our chapter emphasizes promoting positive mental health combined with art. Students in grades 6-12 are welcome to participate. We currently have 9 active members from last year, and we’re looking for more students to join this year! Why is mental health important to your chapter and school? Our students value mental health and checking in on one another. This year all of our staff completed Mental Health First Aid. We want our students and staff to have the support and resources they need to thrive. Life can be tough and it's okay to ask for help! Do you have a favorite chapter memory? Early last summer, our chapter finished a city mural on a wall at the community basketball court. Chapter members designed, developed, and painted the mural while involving the community. We also hosted a guest speaker on digital safety and cyberbullying for students, as well as a positive mindset. Our favorite chapter memory was coming together and painting the mural. Having the community support and seeing the reaction was incredible. We enjoyed working together to come up with the design and the process of the mural. What’s a mental health mantra or a short piece of advice your chapter lives by? Together we are better. We know the community and school are connected, along with local small businesses. The more we prioritize mental health, the more we enjoy life.

October 14, 2025 — This Hispanic Heritage Month, I’m thinking about the state of mental health in our community. I reflect on my early years and the challenges I faced navigating expectations and culture in my Hispanic family. Growing up, I experienced personal challenges because within our culture, mental health was frequently disregarded and undertreated. This reality meant that to avoid the judgment and misunderstanding, I had to learn to deal with my mental health problems in private. And I know this is a reality that many people who come of age in Hispanic households can relate to. I felt really confined as a young girl because I didn't feel like I could tell my family about my mental health struggles. I worried that if I told them I was depressed, they wouldn't understand and would try to convince me that I wasn't ill. And when I did the brave thing and spoke up about my mental health, the fears I had were validated. When I finally opened up, my mother dismissed my feelings. She told me that people in our religion and culture don't get depressed. I was told that it was a sin to have negative feelings about myself because I was God’s creation and that it wasn’t right to criticize his work. It was devastating to hear in such a vulnerable moment. Fortunately, when I decided to tell my father about what I was feeling, he understood. Having faced similar emotional roadblocks with his own mother, he knew what I was going through. He tried his best to console me and urged me to seek help, whether it was through school counseling or therapy. My father's support became a crucial source of comfort, but it was still a long road. It took me a very long time to fully accept my mental condition and be honest with myself. I was sick of feeling alone, and I wanted to talk to someone other than my friends about how I was feeling. This difficulty I had in sharing what I was going through with my family, exacerbated by the fear of rejection, highlights a major barrier to mental health support that is tragically common across many underserved communities. I want to share my story to highlight how important it is to feel safe being open about mental health challenges, particularly within spaces where it hasn’t always been encouraged. Throughout my upbringing in a Hispanic household, I witnessed firsthand how stigma, cultural norms, or the expectation that we need to "be strong" may lead mental health to be disregarded or ignored. This collective silence is a public health crisis that demands immediate attention. You never really know what someone might be going through, and the serious mental health challenges they might be navigating in silence. And no one deserves to go through their mental health journey alone. We have to overcome these harmful biases and the antiquated norms that keep so many of us silent. By actively challenging this stigma and making discussions about mental health more commonplace, we can create a supportive and empathetic society where people can open up about their difficulties without feeling ashamed. The key takeaway from my journey is that seeking help is an act of strength, not shame. We must do what my father did: actively break the cycle and choose a path different from the one we grew up with. Everyone deserves to be met with acceptance and compassion, rather than judgment, if we are to see real progress for both the present and future generations.

October 11, 2025 — “Haha, isn’t that weird? I would never kiss a girl!” my middle school friend exclaimed after telling me about her friend who came out as lesbian. Silence was my answer as I thought to myself, “Kissing another girl? Hm... I wouldn't mind that actually.” Going to a private Christian school and being conditioned into thinking that same-sex relationships were “morally offensive”, I held these thoughts inside and never acted on them. My sheltered upbringing was shattered once I later met “real-life lesbians”. Talking with them broadened my perspective and opened a new path in my journey of self-discovery. Your First "Aha!" Moment Doesn’t Need to be Your Final Answer I began exploring my sexuality and proclaiming to my coworkers, "I am a lesbian!” Then I got a boyfriend and said, “Well... I’m just bisexual.” A few months later, “We broke up, and I am definitely a lesbian.” “So, you know how I said I was lesbian? Well, actually..." The cycle continued and the shame built. Why don’t I have figured out? (because surely a 16-year old would have their identity fully realized by then… right?). To me and my peers, “coming out” = “having it figured out” and I was nowhere close to meeting that social expectation; a shackling mentality. Lesson #1: An initial declaration of identity is a point on a map, not the final destination. Give yourself — and others — the grace to revise as you continue on the journey of finding yourself. The willingness to change your mind is a sign of growth and honest introspection, not failure. Authentic Self-Expression Precedes Self-Acceptance I shoved my shame deep within me, hoping to cover the cracks and bury it beyond where the light could shine. Despite that internal struggle, I began to act authentically. I cut my hair short and embraced more masculine clothes. I attended pride events and consumed LGBTQ+ media (seeing trans actors in the TV show Pose was transformative).  As I began meeting new people, watching compelling stories on TV, and learning new ways to articulate my experience, the light broke through and I had a revelation.While I was acting with self-acceptance, I had not internalized it. I realized I didn't even accept myself, period. Deep inside, I was a wounded child whose sense of self was bound by many layers of shame. I shed the desperate need to label and hesitantly embraced a new mantra: I love who I love, and I am who I am. Lesson #2: True self-acceptance is an internal job. The most immediate thing you can do to start the process is to act authentically — even if you haven't named or rationalized why you're doing it. By stepping into those small acts of authentic expression (like the clothes and haircut), you create evidence for your mind that a different, truer self is possible. Start by doing what feels right, and the understanding of yourself will eventually catch up. Embrace the Evolution, Not the Conclusion Time passed, and I began college and therapy. My identity felt unstable, and a new crack appeared: my body felt foreign. I had to ask myself big questions. Who was I outside of the hyperfeminity I was conditioned into? Where did the “butch queer woman” end and the “I’m just a little guy” begin? I entertained the idea of trans-masculinity and adorned He/Him pronouns for the first time. It felt... liberating. I began to wear He/Him pins around campus, I changed my pronouns on my social media accounts, and I eventually started taking testosterone. Outside of intimate conversations I had with loved ones, I did not feel led to make any public declarations of my gender identity. This time, I approached coming out differently from my past experiences of the back-and-forth proclamations. For those that asked, I shared and to those that knew, knew. It was through this that I came to a critical realization: understanding yourself is a continuous practice. Those many layers and cracks I shamed myself for became fractals for the light to shine through. I embraced their hues and released the pressure to have myself "figured out". Through this, my inner child was freed to authentically be himself and the shackles that bound me fell to my feet. Lesson #3: Coming out is an ongoing process. Release the pressure to have yourself "figured out." Instead, find joy and strength in the ambiguity. Embrace the profound beauty of this continuous, often messy, journey of self-discovery. I am a gender nonconforming queer being and I am proud of who I am. Of course I still struggle with my self-image and, fortunately, I am still figuring myself out. But as I take this time to recognize National Coming Out Day, I celebrate my journey and hope today you’re able to embrace yours too.

October 10, 2025 — October 10th is World Mental Health Day, a day to raise awareness and keep the conversation about mental health moving forward. For young people especially, this day is a reminder that mental health isn’t a side topic; it’s essential to our overall well-being, now and in the future. Adolescence and early adulthood are full of change: switching schools, leaving home, starting college, or getting a new job. These milestones can be exciting but also bring significant stress, uncertainty, and pressure. At the same time, the constant presence of social media and online life can create even more mental strain. Being connected 24/7 can make it hard to unplug, and harder still to feel grounded. Thankfully, there’s a growing recognition of the importance of helping young people build mental resilience. Active Minds aims to provide youth and young adults with the tools and skills needed to manage life’s ups and downs. Research shows that when we invest in mental health early, the impact goes far beyond just the individual. Mentally healthy young adults are more able to thrive in school, contribute to their communities, and show up fully in their lives. Prevention starts with awareness. Recognizing the early signs of mental health struggles can lead to faster support, better outcomes, and a stronger sense of connection. Parents, teachers, health workers, and peers all play a role. From teaching everyday coping skills to offering support in schools and communities, there are so many ways we can build environments where young people feel seen, heard, and supported. If you’re wondering where to start, Active Minds is a great place to turn. We are leading the way in changing the conversation around mental health for young adults, with impactful, accessible programs available in communities across the country. Whether you want to learn more, get involved, or create change in your own space, here’s what Active Minds offers: so many programs. Like Active Minds Speakers, which features trained speakers who share powerful, personal stories that open up important conversations and help break down stigma. Or Send Silence Packing, a traveling exhibit that displays backpacks representing the lives lost to suicide. Each of these one-of-a-kind experiences invites communities to learn and take action. This World Mental Health Day, learn something new about mental health and advocate for change in your community. You don’t have to have all the answers, but you do have the power to make a difference, for yourself and for others

October 2, 2025 — At the beginning of the Fall 2025 semester, uncertainty and fear left me in a state of worry. This fear was not just for my own well-being, but also for that of my family. The thought of being taken away to my birthplace — a place I don't know, where I couldn’t identify a single street or landmark — really worried me. As a college senior, my education and future hung in the balance. Doubt for the future invaded me; I feared I wouldn't be able to finish and earn my bachelor's degree. But despite my worries, I kept my head held high. My anchor was my faith in God. I truly believed He would guide my family and me through each day. My final semester was unlike any other. News of police actions and families being taken into immigration custody made it hard to leave the dorm for classes, my internship, or even to enjoy a moment of peace. To avoid putting my family in danger, we didn’t visit each other. It wasn’t worth the risk. I tried to take care of myself during this time, but it was so hard with the fear of what was happening right outside my door. I was trying to stay aware of the immigration crackdowns to keep my family safe, but it got to the point where the terrible things I was seeing were affecting my mental well-being. That’s when I knew I had to find a different way to cope with all the stress. I want to share how I learned to take care of myself, even when everything feels overwhelming. Stop Doomscrolling I was using social media to stay updated with ongoing news, which helps keep me and my family safe. But it got to the point where it was too much negativity, and it started to affect my mental health. Something that helped my mental state was to cut back my time on social media. It took someone close to me reminding me that the things I kept seeing were keeping me from living my daily life in peace. I had to set a goal to reduce what I saw online. I understand that we use social media to stay aware of breaking news for our security and the security of our loved ones. However, caring for one’s mental state is especially important for one's well-being. Even if you can’t unplug completely, you can start by setting a daily time limit on the social media apps that cause you the most stress. Find Peace Through Journaling With everything I was experiencing, I decided to take on a new hobby to help me process and relax— junk journaling. For me, junk journaling was a creative way to use old papers and everyday things to journal about my day-to-day life. It was a routine that gave me an escape from all the scary news. Doing so kept me away from all that was going on with immigration and the deportations of families. It gave my mind some peace and a place to evolve my creativity. Taking a break from it all improved my quality of life. It was great to put my energy into something new, productive, and fun. Try picking up a new hobby to find your peace today — like drawing, crafting, or meditation. Give it a try for 15 minutes. Find Gratitude for the Present Life lately has reminded me that there are things out of my control that I cannot change. I’ve learned to be okay with letting go and focusing on the present. You have to look at the good things: the people in your life, like family, friends, and mentors. The little things truly matter. Even with the police nearby, I still managed to get to my internship. I gave myself space to feel my emotions and trust that everything would be okay, with God's will. With the support of my community and family, it wasn't easy, but I made it through. Your circumstances might be outside of your control, but how you navigate them is up to you. Right now, take a deep breath and remind yourself of three good things you have in your life that you can be grateful for. My mentor once told me everybody has their own story. I know my story because I’ve lived it. I use my voice, and ultimately, that is my greatest power. And despite all the uncertainty and risk, nobody can take that away from me. So remember, you all have a voice, so use it wisely. And do not let anybody try to take that away from you, because they can’t. If you’re seeing the impact of the current climate and want to take action, I want you to know that there are ways to support the immigrant community. If you want to support, consider organizations working in your local community. There are many ways to help — donate and share information with your classmates, and find ways to show up for those in your life who are affected. It can even be as simple as checking in on your friends and neighbors and asking how you can support them.

September 29, 2025 — September marks Suicide Prevention Month, a time dedicated to raising awareness and promoting mental health support, especially among students who may be navigating the pressures of school, friendships, and personal challenges. For many young people, life can sometimes feel overwhelming, and it’s essential to remember that struggling is not a sign of weakness. This month presents an opportunity not only to reflect on the importance of mental health but also to take active steps toward supporting ourselves and one another — steps that should continue long after the month of September ends. One of the most powerful ways to prevent suicide is through connection. A simple, genuine check-in can go a long way. Asking a friend, “You good?” — and truly meaning it — can open the door to a conversation that someone might not have known how to start. In an era when we’re all expected to maintain appearances, being vulnerable and listening without judgment can make all the difference. We must normalize checking in, acknowledge when we're not okay, and find ways to reach out for help when things feel overwhelming. Another crucial step is knowing where to turn when support is needed. Resources like the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline, the Crisis Text Line (text HELLO to 741741), and The Trevor Project for LGBTQ+ youth (1-866-488-7386 or text START to 678-678) are available 24/7 and completely confidential. These services offer trained counselors who are there to help anyone in crisis or simply needing someone to talk to. It’s also important for students to know that their school counselors, wellness centers, and mental health organizations on campus are safe places to seek help. For those looking to be more proactive in supporting friends, the A.S.K. platform is a valuable tool. A.S.K. stands for Acknowledge, Support, and Keep-in-Touch. A.S.K. empowers students to have genuine conversations with their peers and provides them with the confidence to ask tough questions. Whether you’re worried about someone or want to be prepared to support a friend in the future, the A.S.K. digital experience offers practical guidance to help you recognize warning signs and respond with care. Explore the program and access resources on our website. It’s also essential to remember that while supporting others is incredibly meaningful, taking care of yourself is just as important. No one can pour from an empty cup. Burnout is a real concern, especially among students who often serve as the “strong friend” in their circle. Rest, boundaries, and self-compassion are not optional. If you’re struggling, you deserve support too. In honor of Suicide Prevention Month, let’s commit to creating a culture of care on our campuses and in our communities. Let’s be the friends who ask the tough questions, who stay present, and who understand that seeking help is not a sign of weakness, but an act of strength. Everyone deserves to feel seen, supported, and safe. The conversation around mental health doesn’t end in September; it starts here and continues every day.