Kimberly Jackson

Managing Director of Community Engagement 

My father's life began as a premature birth. He was born at 7 months as the first of eight children - seven boys and one very lovely girl. My grandmother was a young mother without extended family support. She battled significant depression and anxiety, which led to a few stays at the Athens Asylum with a "hysteria diagnosis". These stays resulted in my dad leaving school to help with his siblings. He did not make it past the 3rd grade and never learned to read or write.

By the age of 13, dad was living in McArthur, Ohio, working in a lumber yard. He sent most of his earnings back home, but he said he loved the weekends when he would be able to go to the movies with a big bucket of popcorn. Eventually, he found his way back to Bainbridge, where he worked with his brothers and dad doing similar labor.

He and my mom married young at the ages of 24 and 16. I was the first of 5 kids and the first of many, many grandchildren. Our life was riddled with the good, the bad, and the ugly, which, as a fully-fledged, flawed, and constantly learning adult, I hold zero grudges. Their marriage, which was riddled with violence and poverty, ended after 12 years. His overall health declined drastically after, with his alcohol dependence worsening.

Dad loved to party hard, drive fast, and prove he was just as strong as any man around. He was notoriously 5'2". He was quick to smile, but just as quick to defend whatever he felt like. Of course, this all depended on the day of the week, as his weekends were usually reserved for significant drinking. Having been jailed too often for drinking and driving, he eventually lost his driver's license permanently. For him, driving and cars were a huge piece of his identity.

Life is a sum of a million things - things we can control and, more often, things we cannot. Dad, like many from his time and from our neck of the woods, had to just handle it, which he did through alcohol and violence. I am not sure what part of his life he could have controlled, but he tried to do his best with what he was given. He inherited a mental illness during a time when very little support or understanding was available. The sum of his life eventually took its toll. With his body battling the ravages of a hard-lived life, his depression worsened, and unfortunately, at the age of 62 on Valentine's Day in 2005, Dad surrendered.

Having been an active witness to his life, I navigate my life somewhat cautiously with a firsthand understanding of mental illness and the importance of interventions and support. Every day I think of him and wish his life had been different. This is where I am powerless, but I can advocate for others. I have chosen to raise awareness around mental illness and other social determinants. I have dedicated my professional career to creating supportive spaces for those impacted by their illness and barriers. I have done so for those living with HIV/AIDS, for those in SUD recovery, for unsupervised youth, and for those living with severe and persistent mental illness.

I do so without judgment. I do so because I understand. I do so because I am my father's daughter.

Kimberly Jackson is the Managing Director of Community Engagement, which includes the implementation and oversight of two drop-in day programs for people living with mental illness.