Editor’s note: This article contains discussion of mental illness.

The phone rang at three o’clock in the morning. It was the night before the last day of high school. By some stroke of luck, I was awake. 

“Justin?” he asked, voice shaking.

“What’s wrong, James?” For the privacy of this student, he is being referred to by an alternate name. 

“Don’t panic… I’m sorry for calling so late… I already talked to my dad… but I just needed to… well I woke up with my car in a ditch.” 

For the next hour or so, I tried to understand. More importantly, I tried to support my friend, not with answers to his questions or solutions to his problems, but a willingness to sit with him in his pain and uncertainty. Although I didn’t know it, I was playing the role of a Joe.

James explained that he passed out driving down the highway at 60 mph because of a breath-holding compulsion related to obsessive-compulsive disorder. That night, he lost consciousness and woke up inside his wrecked car, miraculously unharmed.

As he waited for his dad to pick him up from the side of the road, we talked over the phone about our time in high school, about his childhood, about the recent passing of his mother, and about his lifelong struggle to find peace in a chaotic world. In many respects, James’s story is not much different than anyone else’s. 

He struggles with loneliness, insecurity, and communicating his authentic self in terms that others can understand. He is also an incredibly caring, introspective, and funny guy. We would have deep conversations as often as we would talk about cartoons or the high school sports scene. 

That night, our conversation teemed with vulnerability. Dropping artifice and pretense, we could not ignore our fears. Nor could we overlook the beauty of that moment. Terrified by the suffering in the world, I was also compelled to acknowledge it.

It’s easy to forget that those around us are just as complex, contradictory, and nuanced as we are. It’s even easier to assume that strangers have less depth than those we know. When I came to WashU, I wanted to resist this way of thinking. 

Anxiously arriving at my dorm in Koenig House, I was pleasantly surprised to see a little advertisement for a peer counseling organization called Uncle Joe’s. It seemed like the exact opportunity I was looking for. I could imagine myself sitting in the office, talking to clients in a formal capacity, yet empathizing with them as I had done with many others throughout my life. 

In the spring I began training. And I am so glad that I did. I have learned to counsel those in crisis without reducing them to a single tragedy, concern, or complex in their life. I have practiced and deepened my understanding of empathy, patience, and compassion. Most importantly, I have contributed to an organization that allows students to discuss intimate issues with a complete stranger. Of course, that stranger was chosen through a selective process and has over 100 hours of rigorous training. Nevertheless, it takes profound insight from both parties to realize that the people who sit next to us in class, lift weights alongside us in Summers, and stand in line behind us at the DUC are people who hurt as we hurt and who can understand us as we would like to be understood. 

Of course, we all know this. But truly prioritizing the emotional well-being of oneself and others requires more than just knowledge — it demands an active commitment to that belief. Taking a moment out of your day to support Uncle Joe’s block funding request will secure the stability of our organization and maintain free, confidential peer support available at WashU. 

All of us, like James, benefit from having someone to talk to. We are fantastic chemists, brilliant writers, and successful athletes. Although sometimes we forget to feel — to embrace the terror and the beauty. Uncle Joe’s, a place of compassion and understanding, helps us remember. 

It’s something small. But often, signing your name, asking a meaningful question, or picking up the phone is more than enough. 

For more information: Block funding is a way for Student Union to provide financial support for organizations on campus. However, a certain number of student signatures are required to approve these funds. By logging into WUGO, clicking forms, and scrolling to find Uncle Joe’s, you can assist us in our effort to provide compassionate counseling to students on campus. Students can go in person to Uncle Joe’s for peer support from 10 pm to 1 am every night during the academic semester, or they can call by phone at 314-935-5099 from 7 am to 1 am.