Why it appears that increasing numbers of persons with mental illness come into contact with the law has little to do with actual criminality and much to do with the type of society we have created.

2010 estimates from the Correctional Service of Canada suggest that as many as 42 per cent of people incarcerated in federal prisons are experiencing some sort of mental illness.

In all of Canada, there is only one facility in the federal system dedicated to persons with mental illness, and only males are treated.

The 2008 Report to the Standing Committee on Public Safety and National Security on the use of tasers cited shortcomings in mental health and addiction training and services as a major concern when it comes to police officers.

The result is that our police are dealing with mental-illness-related issues in our streets, with varying levels of preparation.

The mental health liaison for the Winnipeg Police estimates that three to four calls received per day are related to a mental health issue.

A number of factors have led to this.

The first is the deinstitutionalization that has occurred over the last 40 years, which moved people with mental illness into the community, where, except in extreme circumstances, they belong and experience much higher levels of recovery.

Unfortunately, there has never been appropriate funding of community support systems to meet the needs of persons with mental illness.

It is estimated at this time that one in five persons in Manitoba has some sort of mental health issue.

The Canadian Journal of Psychiatry reported that in 2003-2004, Canada spent $6.6 billion on mental health, representing just 4.8 per cent (or $197 per person) of the total health budget.

At that time, Manitoba was ranked exactly in the middle of the pack with 4.9 per cent of funding going towards mental health ($219 per person).

Subsequently, a problem affecting 20 per cent of the population is getting less than five per cent of the funding needed.

I understand the frustration of our police, who consistently seem baffled by the fact that they have become a critical part of the mental health system in Winnipeg.

In talking with the mental health liaison for the Winnipeg Police, I was told a far too common story.

A few months ago, police were trying to help a young woman who was threatening suicide on a Winnipeg bridge. They brought her to a local hospital for help. One week later, they were called to the same bridge, where the young woman was once again trying to commit suicide.

As someone who has seen the changes that good services can make in the life of someone with mental illness, it is heartbreaking for me to look at all of our collective waitlists and think, “One day…”

Change is a long, slow process. We, as a city, province and nation, have to admit that we have a role here.

Politicians fund what we tell them we want, what we demand. Real change is in all of our hands.

It is important to reject stigmas and acknowledge that people with mental health issues are not separate from us.

Ultimately, we need to tell our levels of government that this is something that we understand and value.

Nicole Chammartin is the executive director of the Canadian Mental Health Association, Winnipeg Region. Visit www.cmhawpg.mb.ca.

This is part of the Crime in Winnipeg feature. Its companion pieces are “Crime in the media, crime in real life” by Chris Hunter (http://uniter.ca/view/6249/) and “Perception of crime far from reality” by Brittany Thiessen (http://uniter.ca/view/6251/) .

Published in Volume 65, Number 25 of The Uniter (March 31, 2011)