Since 1983, when I was a child and fled as a boat refugee from Vietnam with my mother, the international plight of displaced people has only worsened. From 1997 to 2022, the number of forcibly displaced people has more than tripled, growing from 34 million to more than 108 million.[1]
Displaced people are designated as refugees only when they cross international borders and meet the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees’ (UNHCR) definition as “persons outside their countries of origin who are in need of international protection because of a serious threat to their life, physical integrity, or freedom in their country of origin as a result of persecution, armed conflict, violence, or serious public disorder.”[2] There is a separate mandate by the United Nations for the aid of Palestinian refugees under the United Nations General Assembly’s United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestinian Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA).[3] Of the displaced in 2022, more than 36 million were recognized as refugees under UNHCR and UNRWA mandates.[1] Of these, almost 50% were children, at 17.5 million.[4] To make matters worse, worldwide children represent less than one-third of the population.[4] Since 2022, the increase in refugeeism is mostly driven by Ukraine and Syria, though also significantly Afghanistan, Venezuela, Sudan, Myanmar, Congo, Somalia, and Central African Republic.[4] Refugeeism is a growing problem that disproportionately impacts children through sheer number, and one suspects, given their greater overall vulnerabilities compared with adults, physical and mental health consequences.
Traumas of refugees compared with non-refugee immigrants
In terms of mental health, refugees are distinct from non-refugee immigrants in that they likely experience more severe psychosocial adversities from greater poverty, greater risk of family separation, and uncertainty of the asylum process.[5,6,7,8]
From my own experience, this stems from the urgent nature of the refugee’s displacement, where they are often fleeing an immediate danger. My family had fled persecution from Communist forces and the social economic collapse that rendered Vietnam, for a time, one of the poorest in the world.[9] Or, as my mother observed, “We had to leave because even doctors were starving.”
Refugees often have little preparation, have little legal protection since they are often criminalized, and are forced to endure dangerous conditions where they are vulnerable to smugglers and criminals who exploit their unprotected status. Once they arrive in their new country, they often do not have other family as social supports or resources. They themselves become the anchor for future legal and orderly immigration of their remaining family, given that they can extend their refugee status to those left behind.[10] These non-refugee immigrants, unlike their refugee counterparts, are often flown to their new homes with more preparation, protecting them from dangerous conditions, and have the benefit of family who provide them with resources. As such, refugees tend to experience more traumatic life events than non-refugee immigrants. This was true in my family where those of us who initially escaped became the anchors to legally, and more safely, immigrate most of our family in Vietnam. We became their resources, likely making their acclimation smoother.
The mental health of refugee children and their caregivers
It is important to understand the stressors affecting the caregivers of children, since effective treatment of their mental health conditions can also benefit the children as well.[11] In fact, among the greatest protective factors for refugee children is the presence of an adult caregiver, suggesting that the child’s mental health is dependent on the caregivers.
Those children who are separated show much worse mental health sequalae.[12] As such, an understanding of the caregiver’s stressors is important. For example, when we were escaping Vietnam, my mom would protect me from our hardships by talking about our goals in America, minimizing our dangers by saying that we would be rewarded with things like a hamburger with its seemingly impossible amount of meat. Physically, my mother would always sleep with her arms around me and a knife hidden in order to ward off any attackers at night. When I was starving in the hull of a boat, having not eaten for days, my mother begged for food and gave me what she could get. And post-escape, my family focused on work and applied for aid for shelter and food, while encouraging us to invest in education, likely preventing involvement in criminal activities or gangs. Though overall, my family shielded me from the worst consequences, they also passed on their fears. One of my uncles had been killed by the police when he tried to escape, and so my family passed down a deep suspicion of authorities, whether they were the police or school principals. My mother had vivid memories of Communist re-education camps, which likely gave her a lasting fear that a Communist would find out our identities in America and re-capture us.
The mental health risk of refugees
Given that refugees tend to experience greater amounts of traumatic life events and a vast array of stressors sustained across years and even decades before, during, and after migration, it is no wonder they have much higher rates of mental health conditions, most predominantly PTSD and affective disorders.[13,14] They are at particular risk of developing psychoses because they are more likely to experience a range of physical, psychological, and psychosocial problems associated with adversities such as violence, discrimination, economic stress, and social isolation.[13] For example, the period leading up to my escape consisted of decades of prolonged war: the French-Indochina from 1945 to 1954, then the Vietnam War from 1955 to 1975) as well as the persecution and re-education camps afterward. What my family had to endure created a period of fear and loss into which I was born into in 1976. That year, my family had lost its fortune due to the Communist government seizing of our home and business, plunging us from a comfortable middle- to upper-class life to poverty. There was also widespread fear of systematic rape by the Communist victors. So my family endured great stress and the loss of a way of life leading up to our escape.
For the refugees, the escape itself is often a dangerous journey where, given its emergent nature, they are often exposed to the elements. We know about the current situation in Ukraine and Gaza, where children are fleeing from bombs and bullets. In my situation, we endured weeks of starvation crammed in the hull of boat as we forged through the Indian Ocean to the Philippines. One of my aunts, on a separate trip, perished because her boat had capsized, like so many others. Though impossible to verify, it has been estimated that up to 70% of Vietnamese refugees died during their escape.[15] After the boat, my mother and I still had to brave Malaysian jungles and prisons, and then refugee camps for a year before we reached safety at an American Embassy in the Philippines. After we gained sponsorship to America, the traumas did not abate, but were only replaced by those of culture shock, poverty, and alienation. Taken by themselves, significant traumas exist in each phase of a refugee child’s escape, whether before, during, or after. These traumas are likely compounded since they are continuously layered and sustained across years, even decades. They affect not only the children, but their parents, and sometimes even a whole nation of people.
Summary
In recent decades, refugeeism has been a growing problem that disproportionately affects children. Refugee children and their families experience a variety of traumas, often sustained across years and even decades, because of armed conflict, persecution, or social upheavals. It is known that refugees are at greater risk for PTSD and affective and psychotic disorders, presumably due to increased traumatic life events before, during, and after their migration. The writer uses his own experience as a child refugee from Vietnam to elucidate the stressors evident in various phases of forced displacement.
Dr. Nguyen is a second year resident at UCSF Fresno Psychiatry Residency. He was a public high school English teacher for 15 years previously.
This article originally appeared on MDedge.com, part of the Medscape Professional Network.
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Lead image: Roxie Johnson | Dreamstime.com
Image 1: Dr. Duy Nguyen
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Any views expressed above are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect the views of MDedge or its affiliates.
Cite this: Mental Health Characteristics of Refugee Children - Medscape - Nov 29, 2023.
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