Visualizing Teen Mental Health: Oakland Students Highlight Caregivers Through Photography
Florence Middleton
A recent workshop facilitated by several Bay Area organizations asked Oakland high schoolers to visualize the impact their caregivers have on their mental health.
Oakland highschoolers photographed their lives on as part of pilot workshop series focused on visual storytelling and youth mental health.
One evening in February, a small group of Oakland high school students gathered in a circle in a classroom at MetWest High School to talk about the issues that impact their mental health. It was quiet at first, but soon, teens began to share their experiences: The trauma of losing a loved one.
Overwhelming pressure to succeed in school and comparison to others. Social media. Environmental conditions, such as the reality of finding an abandoned gun on the sidewalk.
The impacts of immigration on a community. Families living in “survival mode” and having no time to connect or process feelings.
There was a resounding consensus. Students felt that while mental health resources are available and Bay Area residents talk about being open to discussing mental health, in reality, it’s not a safe place. People — other youth in particular — can still be very judgmental if you are open about your mental health struggles.
These students were participating in a pilot workshop series focused on visual storytelling and youth mental health, organized by nonprofit media organization CatchLight’s Mental Health Visual Desk and Oakland-based youth media organization Youthbeat.
It was facilitated by visual journalists and editors from CatchLight and KQED, including myself, Florence Middleton, Ximena Natera, Martin do Nascimento and Jenny Stratton.
In 2021 and 2025, organizations like the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry declared a national emergency for children’s mental health in America, amid rising mental health-related hospital visits and suicide attempts. Gen Zers, those born between 1997 and 2012, are also 80% more likely to report dealing with anxiety or depression compared to older generations.
The workshop aimed to give teens space to process some of these realities and contribute their own experiences to this narrative.
This cohort of high schoolers focused on mental health and caregiving. Each student chose a caregiver — a parent, teacher, friend, sibling, partner — whose care and often unseen labor quietly sustains them and shapes their well-being.
Over a three-month period, students developed photo essays documenting the impacts of that caregiving in their lives.
They pushed themselves to be vulnerable. And they learned to photograph abstract concepts around mental well-being. Individually, each photo essay tells a deeply personal story. Collectively, they answer the question: In a time of crisis for young people’s mental health, whose hands hold them up?
Evelyn Sanchez De Leon
My name is Evelyn Sanchez De Leon. I’m a student at Oakland High School, and I enjoy music, art and nature. I’m the most expressive around my loved ones.
My caregiver is my best friend, Sharon.
I’ve been well aware of my mental health as early as the age of 7. I spent many years figuring out who I am, what I am, and what I will be, alongside figuring out how to unwire the knots in my head that have been caused by my day-to-day life, making me feel lost and confused up until sixth grade, when I met Sharon.
She’s been my ride or die since the day we met, and truly has shown me that there is genuine good within people for the past six years. She’s helped me throughout my roughest periods in life, in which, at some points, I genuinely thought I wouldn’t seek a way out. She was there when I felt like I had nobody. She was there with me no matter what. She’s been there at my lowest, but has always helped me reach the highest levels in life whenever I thought I wasn’t capable and made me believe in myself in many ways.
I have nothing but pure love and admiration for her. I’m forever going to be grateful for everything she has done for me, helped me overcome and still is doing for my well-being. I tried to capture that in these pictures.
The view from my balcony. I love to step outside whenever I just want alone time.A CD, a CD player and my keychain that was given to me by Sharon. I have a couple of CDs and use the player almost daily.Yellow flowers. The color yellow reminds me of Sharon, since yellow represents warmth and happiness.Sharon. She’s pretty photogenic in my eyes. The picture really captures her beauty.A Machine Girl concert that Sharon and I attended.A local bookstore that Sharon and I go to occasionally is one of our favorite spots.I was going through a rough patch around the time this picture was taken and decided to take a walk around Lake Merritt. I enjoy nature whenever I feel down.Two pelicans floating, which reminded me of the two of us. Sharon really loves pelicans.I went on a walk in the middle of the night. It’s rare, but I seriously enjoy late-night walks.
Adonis Paul Anthony
Hey, my name is Adonis Paul Anthony. I’m a senior at Coliseum College Prep Academy (CCPA) in Oakland. I like playing video games, listening to music, exploring places, taking photos/videos and spending time with family and friends.
For this project, I chose my father as my caregiver. He’s had a big impact on my life — helping me figure out what I want to do and always being there when I need someone to talk to or when I’m feeling any type of way.
I think many families sometimes overlook mental health for Oakland youth, although many are dealing with stress and pressure. Some families do not prioritize mental health, which makes youth feel pressure to succeed in life, along with not always having space to openly talk about mental health. In addition, the environment around me affects me, and violence and struggle affect my community.
My father is mostly working and not always home; however, when my father is home, I have a lot of my own personal time to myself. When worrying about school, other things on my mind, and my future, mainly, I start to feel extremely overwhelmed. Due to this, I try not to think too much about it and only try to worry about what’s happening in the moment. I also try doing things that I enjoy, like hanging out with friends or my girlfriend, playing video games or going out and taking photos. But when I am not able to do any of those things, I am able to talk to my father.
I’ve faced challenges with my mental health many times, and having him as a supportive caregiver has played a huge role in helping me stay grounded and move forward. Whenever I am feeling overwhelmed, my father is usually able to tell and asks me how I am doing and checks on me to make sure I am okay. He is also able to give me any advice that I need and supports me in whatever I want to do for my future. In fact, when I am feeling the rock bottom of anything, I am able to talk to him. Not only is he someone I can talk to about my mental health, he also takes care of me by keeping food in my mouth and a roof over my head. He will do anything in the world to support me.
Ultimately, for this photo essay, I wanted to show how the support and trust that my caregiver gives me has allowed me to have a lot of freedom.
In my bedroom, while I was looking outside my window at the sunset with two palm trees. This photo reminds me of when I am all alone in my room and sometimes feeling overwhelmed about my future and worrying about what’s going to happen next.Photo was taken in San Francisco when me and my friends decided to go out and explore a new place. Although my dad isn’t physically caregiving, he is giving me the freedom to explore with my friends whenever and wherever.A photo of me in San Francisco, taken by my girlfriend when we went out to explore and watch the sunset. This picture is me looking out at the world and reflecting on how much freedom I have.This photo was taken in Stockton at a flower garden when I was visiting my mom. With all the freedom I have, I am able to blossom and experience new things.One photo is of my eye, which shows that in my life, I have my own perspective. The other picture is my gaming PC that my father got me. It’s very expensive and helps me entertain myself when I’m enjoying my personal time and not exploring outside.Food that I am able to order whenever I want. Along with that, my father is able to provide me with money to spend on what I want.The ceiling of my room, with a galaxy astronaut light and LED lights on the wall on each side. My lights remind me of the galaxy and how big it is, with many things to explore in the world, but in my space.San Francisco at night after a long day exploring with my friends. This makes me think about how I get overwhelmed when thinking about the future, but am also able to go out and see the world for myself, which is represented in the second picture of my eye, but this time with a shadow.In San Francisco, when my friends and I went to explore on a cloudy, rainy day. The stormy day reminded me of how the future will come soon, but I also still have the freedom that my father is able to give me.
Nhien Tang
My name is Nhien Tang. I’m a junior at Oakland High School. I’m a first-generation student who likes music, art, reading and spending time with friends and family.
I chose my boyfriend as my caregiver. During the time we’ve been together, I’ve felt like I’ve improved myself as a person. He has always supported me and makes sure that I stay healthy because I don’t really eat a lot of nutritious food otherwise.
I started to notice my mental health a lot more during middle school. During that time, I was growing up and becoming more aware of things around me. My family was always busy, so I didn’t have any emotional support. So I depended on myself and the internet during my whole childhood. I’ve dealt with my struggles by myself, often isolating myself from everyone whenever I’m stressed. At times, I couldn’t properly take care of myself, including eating, showering or just getting out of bed. I managed to heal a bit by myself, yet I still have those periods of struggle.
That was until my boyfriend came into my life. He showed me how to rely on someone and how to open up. He taught me that being vulnerable is not weak, but a strong trait. He supported me in many ways — cooking me food, helping me with schoolwork, washing my hair and so much more. Because of his actions, I’ve always felt comfortable in his presence.
In this photo essay, I want to show how my love has supported me on my healing journey.
The desk that has been through so much: studying, homework, gaming and drawing. Barely getting clean because of the workload I have during school.The girl behind that desk. She is me. I was cooking with my boyfriend.I’ve always struggled with my identity. Religion, sexuality and race. It caused me a lot of breakdowns and stress. I couldn’t communicate with my family about these topics because of the language barrier we have.The alcohol bottles in the living room cabinet. My family likes partying a lot. I hate loud noises. Whenever they party, I lock myself in my room to get away from the loud music.My caregiver, my boyfriend, is cooking with me. He’s way better at cooking than I am. I always feel loved whenever he cooks for me, or when we cook together.The letter my boyfriend gave me, using my nickname: Nhi. He has always been good with his words, making me feel calm and comfortable. Talking to him makes me feel like a flower blooming outside.My love and I. We took pictures at a photobooth, not the first ever one, and definitely not the last.The results of cooking together. I never once doubted how it would taste because I know it’ll always taste good to me whenever we cook together.We’re always going out together. I’ve noticed I become happier when I’m with my boyfriend. I’m more confident in myself just by being by his side.The cherry blossom flower represents me right now, showing how I have grown as a person because of my caregiver.
Zay Austin
My name is Zay Austin, and I am a junior at Oakland High School. All these pictures represent me and my mental health because most of my life was kind of hard. But when I got to this school and met all these people and made new friends, I had a sense of purpose. I ended up finding a new self, made all these friends freshman year and I met my caregivers in my sophomore year.
The caregivers I chose are my study skills teacher, named Ortiz — because she was one of the people who helped me get a passing grade on my assignments — and my friends and my girlfriend. They all kept me on track and made me happy in life, especially when I met my girlfriend. We met my freshman year (her sophomore year), but I am older than her by two days.
We started dating this year (my junior year), and we are happy to be together. She makes sure I always go to class and stops being distracted by trying to make sure I have my work done. She also listens to my problems, and I do the same for her when she needs to talk about her day or when she is down. Looking at it all now, meeting these people that I took pictures of changed me a lot.
This is the first place where I played hide and seek with my volleyball team, my freshman year. It was a good experience, and they’ve taught me a lot.This is where I found a way to become a better leader within a classroom. It taught me how to give ideas and help where I can.This is one of my closest friends. His name is Taariq. We played basketball together our freshman year, and we ended up staying close for a very long time.This is a picture of the sky — one of my favorite pictures. I always loved taking a picture of the sky when I was younger. It made me feel good when I got to see the sky in a different light.This is a picture of one of my caregivers, a teacher of mine named Ortiz. She’s been good to my classmates and me, helping where she can, and I’m grateful for that.This is another picture of one of my friends. His name is Cleo. I met him in my freshman year. We met in PE, and we started playing one-on-one in basketball.This is a picture of me and my caregiver, my girlfriend. I’ve known her since my freshman year, and we got together my junior year, her senior year. She makes me the happiest person ever, even when bad things are going on.This is a picture of the ceiling. I always noticed nature, and it reminds me of how my journey is growing like the leaves inside this classroom.This is a picture of a star in one of my classrooms. I took a picture of it because I feel like a star when I step onto the volleyball court.This is a picture of a new friend I made at the Youth Beat Mental Health Workshop. Her name is Evelyn, but I call her Ev. These photos are from our first hangout, where we took pictures. I climbed a tree to get a better picture.This is a different hallway where I first met most of the people in my pictures.
Diego Sanchez Morfin
My name is Diego Sanchez Morfin. I am a senior at Madison Park Academy in Oakland. I’m my parents’ second-youngest son, and I’m someone who enjoys spending time with family and friends and watching movies.
For this project, I chose my mother as my caregiver because she has always been there for me. She is the reason I am the way I am, and her influence has taught me so much.
Issues that impact my mental health revolve around the current state of our country. Countless immigrants who are trying to make ends meet are being treated horribly. Seeing this happening all around the world while coming from an immigrant family can be overwhelming. But my mother always helps me.
My mental health has had its roses and thorns, but whenever I am experiencing a thorn, my mother’s kindness turns it into a rose.
Through my photo essay, I want to show my mother’s beauty and the impact she has had on my life. Her kindness has taught me so much and has shaped me into who I am now.
From a young age, my mother has never failed to uphold her faith — the faith she represents with her beauty.Just like a rose, my mother’s name is Rosa. Her beauty is often overlooked, but this is a chance to showcase it.Whether it is going to the school, dentist, hospital or grocery store, she always makes sure we get there safely.The door I have gone in and out of for the majority of my life.No food can ever get close to the flavors my mom creates. Getting home from school means smelling our favorite meals.My name is Diego Sanchez. I’m my mother’s son, and I see myself through the images I capture.My mother’s constant support has shaped my upbringing. I’m now building other support systems and thriving as a rising college student. My girlfriend and I are on the left. My friend, my girlfriend and I are on the right.Only a paw away are my cats. They’ve stayed by my side for the past five years, bringing an extra layer of laughter.Like other people’s childhoods, mine emerged in the playground. The same spot I drive by every day is the same spot I once wanted to stay in forever.My mind is always in the light, the light filled with memories and future memories I’m creating.
Korey Gibson
Hello, my name is Korey Gibson. I’m a sophomore at Oakland Tech in Oakland. I am a student and a younger brother. Some things I like to do are draw, hang out with friends, go on hikes, take photos and listen to music.
For this project, I chose my mother as my caregiver because she has always taken care of me and supported me. She is very charismatic, authentic and just an overall kind, amazing person. Throughout my struggles with my mental health, she has always supported me and been a shoulder for me to lean on.
I am glad that I’ve gotten the support I needed. Having my mother to talk to has helped me so much with my mental health. Through this photo essay, I wanted to show how I feel and how my mom handles her mental health. I tried to capture photos that show even the little things that can give meaning in everyday life.
This photo was just me capturing my mom while she was working and having a face mask on. She multitasks a lot, so I tried to capture the feeling of being busy but also focused.When I saw the fly on the window, I had my camera, and it was just chilling on the glass. It made me think about how it’s important to admire and appreciate the small things in the world, too, not just the large things.I took this photo in a rose garden after a storm. The flower was starting to wilt, and even while it was wilting, it still had this beauty to it. I wanted to capture it to show that even when something isn’t in the “best” condition, it’s still worth admiring.This is a photo I took of some drawings I did. I was letting my mind wander, and my hands draw.I captured this photo of my mom when she was trying to decompress from a long day. We all just sat on the couch and watched TV.I took this photo because I really just liked the color of the plasma and I put my finger on the top to symbolize how I wanted to touch the plasma itself but I couldn’t.I took this photo of my cat because she moves around a lot, and sometimes she is a little chaotic. I felt like I captured that feel with the blur and movement.I took this photo of my mom and dad while we were on a walk in Alameda, just all taking a long walk around the water and getting fresh air.I took this photo in the rose garden. I liked the way the bush looked with the flowers, and the pink really caught my eye with the red roses in the background, too.This last photo I captured of my mom was at Joaquin Miller Park. It was just my mom basking in the sun, and I was trying to capture her in her element out in nature because she really likes to be in nature.
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"slug": "visualizing-teen-mental-health-oakland-students-highlight-caregivers-through-photography",
"title": "Visualizing Teen Mental Health: Oakland Students Highlight Caregivers Through Photography",
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"headTitle": "Visualizing Teen Mental Health: Oakland Students Highlight Caregivers Through Photography | KQED",
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"content": "\u003cp>One evening in February, a small group of \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/news/tag/oakland\">Oakland\u003c/a> high school students gathered in a circle in a classroom at MetWest High School to talk about the issues that impact their mental health. It was quiet at first, but soon, teens began to share their experiences: The trauma of losing a loved one.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Overwhelming pressure to succeed in school and comparison to others. Social media. Environmental conditions, such as the reality of finding an abandoned gun on the sidewalk.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The impacts of immigration on a community. Families living in “survival mode” and having no time to connect or process feelings.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There was a resounding consensus. Students felt that while mental health resources are available and Bay Area residents talk about being open to discussing mental health, in reality, it’s not a safe place. People — other youth in particular — can still be very judgmental if you are open about your mental health struggles.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These students were participating in a pilot workshop series focused on visual storytelling and youth mental health, organized by nonprofit media organization \u003ca href=\"https://www.catchlight.io/mental-health\">CatchLight’s Mental Health Visual Desk\u003c/a> and Oakland-based youth media organization \u003ca href=\"https://youthbeat.org/\">Youthbeat\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It was facilitated by visual journalists and editors from CatchLight and KQED, including myself, Florence Middleton, Ximena Natera, Martin do Nascimento and Jenny Stratton.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In \u003ca href=\"https://www.aecf.org/blog/generation-z-and-mental-health\">2021\u003c/a> and \u003ca href=\"https://www.aacap.org/AACAP/zLatest_News/Four_Years_On.aspx\">2025\u003c/a>, organizations like the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry declared a national emergency for children’s mental health in America, amid rising mental health-related hospital visits and suicide attempts. Gen Zers, those born between 1997 and 2012, are also \u003ca href=\"https://www.aecf.org/blog/generation-z-and-mental-health\">80% more likely\u003c/a> to report dealing with anxiety or depression compared to older generations.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The workshop aimed to give teens space to process some of these realities and contribute their own experiences to this narrative.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This cohort of high schoolers focused on mental health and caregiving. Each student chose a caregiver — a parent, teacher, friend, sibling, partner — whose care and often unseen labor quietly sustains them and shapes their well-being.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Over a three-month period, students developed photo essays documenting the impacts of that caregiving in their lives.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>They pushed themselves to be vulnerable. And they learned to photograph abstract concepts around mental well-being. Individually, each photo essay tells a deeply personal story. Collectively, they answer the question: In a time of crisis for young people’s mental health, whose hands hold them up?\u003c/p>\n\u003ch2>Evelyn Sanchez De Leon\u003c/h2>\n\u003cp>My name is Evelyn Sanchez De Leon. I’m a student at Oakland High School, and I enjoy music, art and nature. I’m the most expressive around my loved ones.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My caregiver is my best friend, Sharon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I’ve been well aware of my mental health as early as the age of 7. I spent many years figuring out who I am, what I am, and what I will be, alongside figuring out how to unwire the knots in my head that have been caused by my day-to-day life, making me feel lost and confused up until sixth grade, when I met Sharon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>She’s been my ride or die since the day we met, and truly has shown me that there is genuine good within people for the past six years. She’s helped me throughout my roughest periods in life, in which, at some points, I genuinely thought I wouldn’t seek a way out. She was there when I felt like I had nobody. She was there with me no matter what. She’s been there at my lowest, but has always helped me reach the highest levels in life whenever I thought I wasn’t capable and made me believe in myself in many ways.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I have nothing but pure love and admiration for her. I’m forever going to be grateful for everything she has done for me, helped me overcome and still is doing for my well-being. I tried to capture that in these pictures.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084277\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084277\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The view from my balcony. I love to step outside whenever I just want alone time.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084278\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084278\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A CD, a CD player and my keychain that was given to me by Sharon. I have a couple of CDs and use the player almost daily.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084281\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084281\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Yellow flowers. The color yellow reminds me of Sharon, since yellow represents warmth and happiness.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084280\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084280\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Sharon. She’s pretty photogenic in my eyes. The picture really captures her beauty.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084282\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084282\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A Machine Girl concert that Sharon and I attended.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084283\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084283\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1500\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-160x120.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-1536x1152.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A local bookstore that Sharon and I go to occasionally is one of our favorite spots.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084284\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084284\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1500\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-160x120.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-1536x1152.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I was going through a rough patch around the time this picture was taken and decided to take a walk around Lake Merritt. I enjoy nature whenever I feel down.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084285\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084285\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Two pelicans floating, which reminded me of the two of us. Sharon really loves pelicans.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084286\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084286\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I went on a walk in the middle of the night. It’s rare, but I seriously enjoy late-night walks.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch2>Adonis Paul Anthony\u003c/h2>\n\u003cp>Hey, my name is \u003cstrong>Adonis Paul Anthony\u003c/strong>. I’m a senior at Coliseum College Prep Academy (CCPA) in Oakland. I like playing video games, listening to music, exploring places, taking photos/videos and spending time with family and friends.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For this project, I chose my father as my caregiver. He’s had a big impact on my life — helping me figure out what I want to do and always being there when I need someone to talk to or when I’m feeling any type of way.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I think many families sometimes overlook mental health for Oakland youth, although many are dealing with stress and pressure. Some families do not prioritize mental health, which makes youth feel pressure to succeed in life, along with not always having space to openly talk about mental health. In addition, the environment around me affects me, and violence and struggle affect my community.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My father is mostly working and not always home; however, when my father is home, I have a lot of my own personal time to myself. When worrying about school, other things on my mind, and my future, mainly, I start to feel extremely overwhelmed. Due to this, I try not to think too much about it and only try to worry about what’s happening in the moment. I also try doing things that I enjoy, like hanging out with friends or my girlfriend, playing video games or going out and taking photos. But when I am not able to do any of those things, I am able to talk to my father.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I’ve faced challenges with my mental health many times, and having him as a supportive caregiver has played a huge role in helping me stay grounded and move forward. Whenever I am feeling overwhelmed, my father is usually able to tell and asks me how I am doing and checks on me to make sure I am okay. He is also able to give me any advice that I need and supports me in whatever I want to do for my future. In fact, when I am feeling the rock bottom of anything, I am able to talk to him. Not only is he someone I can talk to about my mental health, he also takes care of me by keeping food in my mouth and a roof over my head. He will do anything in the world to support me.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ultimately, for this photo essay, I wanted to show how the support and trust that my caregiver gives me has allowed me to have a lot of freedom.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084287\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1125px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084287\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1125\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg 1125w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-160x284.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-864x1536.jpg 864w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1125px) 100vw, 1125px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">In my bedroom, while I was looking outside my window at the sunset with two palm trees. This photo reminds me of when I am all alone in my room and sometimes feeling overwhelmed about my future and worrying about what’s going to happen next.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084288\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084288\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1330\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-1536x1021.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Photo was taken in San Francisco when me and my friends decided to go out and explore a new place. Although my dad isn’t physically caregiving, he is giving me the freedom to explore with my friends whenever and wherever.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084289\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084289\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A photo of me in San Francisco, taken by my girlfriend when we went out to explore and watch the sunset. This picture is me looking out at the world and reflecting on how much freedom I have.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084290\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084290\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This photo was taken in Stockton at a flower garden when I was visiting my mom. With all the freedom I have, I am able to blossom and experience new things.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084291\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084291\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">One photo is of my eye, which shows that in my life, I have my own perspective. The other picture is my gaming PC that my father got me. It’s very expensive and helps me entertain myself when I’m enjoying my personal time and not exploring outside.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084292\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084292\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1330\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-1536x1021.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Food that I am able to order whenever I want. Along with that, my father is able to provide me with money to spend on what I want.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084293\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084293\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The ceiling of my room, with a galaxy astronaut light and LED lights on the wall on each side. My lights remind me of the galaxy and how big it is, with many things to explore in the world, but in my space.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084294\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084294\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">San Francisco at night after a long day exploring with my friends. This makes me think about how I get overwhelmed when thinking about the future, but am also able to go out and see the world for myself, which is represented in the second picture of my eye, but this time with a shadow.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084295\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084295\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1125\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-1536x864.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-1200x675.jpg 1200w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">In San Francisco, when my friends and I went to explore on a cloudy, rainy day. The stormy day reminded me of how the future will come soon, but I also still have the freedom that my father is able to give me.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch2>Nhien Tang\u003c/h2>\n\u003cp>My name is \u003cstrong>Nhien Tang\u003c/strong>. I’m a junior at Oakland High School. I’m a first-generation student who likes music, art, reading and spending time with friends and family.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I chose my boyfriend as my caregiver. During the time we’ve been together, I’ve felt like I’ve improved myself as a person. He has always supported me and makes sure that I stay healthy because I don’t really eat a lot of nutritious food otherwise.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I started to notice my mental health a lot more during middle school. During that time, I was growing up and becoming more aware of things around me. My family was always busy, so I didn’t have any emotional support. So I depended on myself and the internet during my whole childhood. I’ve dealt with my struggles by myself, often isolating myself from everyone whenever I’m stressed. At times, I couldn’t properly take care of myself, including eating, showering or just getting out of bed. I managed to heal a bit by myself, yet I still have those periods of struggle.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That was until my boyfriend came into my life. He showed me how to rely on someone and how to open up. He taught me that being vulnerable is not weak, but a strong trait. He supported me in many ways — cooking me food, helping me with schoolwork, washing my hair and so much more. Because of his actions, I’ve always felt comfortable in his presence.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In this photo essay, I want to show how my love has supported me on my healing journey.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084296\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084296\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The desk that has been through so much: studying, homework, gaming and drawing. Barely getting clean because of the workload I have during school.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084297\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084297\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The girl behind that desk. She is me. I was cooking with my boyfriend.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084298\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084298\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I’ve always struggled with my identity. Religion, sexuality and race. It caused me a lot of breakdowns and stress. I couldn’t communicate with my family about these topics because of the language barrier we have.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084299\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084299\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The alcohol bottles in the living room cabinet. My family likes partying a lot. I hate loud noises. Whenever they party, I lock myself in my room to get away from the loud music.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084300\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084300\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">My caregiver, my boyfriend, is cooking with me. He’s way better at cooking than I am. I always feel loved whenever he cooks for me, or when we cook together.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084301\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084301\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The letter my boyfriend gave me, using my nickname: Nhi. He has always been good with his words, making me feel calm and comfortable. Talking to him makes me feel like a flower blooming outside.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084302\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084302\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1500\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-160x120.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-1536x1152.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">My love and I. We took pictures at a photobooth, not the first ever one, and definitely not the last.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084303\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084303\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The results of cooking together. I never once doubted how it would taste because I know it’ll always taste good to me whenever we cook together.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084304\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084304\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">We’re always going out together. I’ve noticed I become happier when I’m with my boyfriend. I’m more confident in myself just by being by his side.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084305\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084305\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The cherry blossom flower represents me right now, showing how I have grown as a person because of my caregiver.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch2>Zay Austin\u003c/h2>\n\u003cp>My name is \u003cstrong>Zay Austin\u003c/strong>, and I am a junior at Oakland High School. All these pictures represent me and my mental health because most of my life was kind of hard. But when I got to this school and met all these people and made new friends, I had a sense of purpose. I ended up finding a new self, made all these friends freshman year and I met my caregivers in my sophomore year.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The caregivers I chose are my study skills teacher, named Ortiz — because she was one of the people who helped me get a passing grade on my assignments — and my friends and my girlfriend. They all kept me on track and made me happy in life, especially when I met my girlfriend. We met my freshman year (her sophomore year), but I am older than her by two days.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We started dating this year (my junior year), and we are happy to be together. She makes sure I always go to class and stops being distracted by trying to make sure I have my work done. She also listens to my problems, and I do the same for her when she needs to talk about her day or when she is down. Looking at it all now, meeting these people that I took pictures of changed me a lot.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084306\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084306\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is the first place where I played hide and seek with my volleyball team, my freshman year. It was a good experience, and they’ve taught me a lot.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084307\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084307\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is where I found a way to become a better leader within a classroom. It taught me how to give ideas and help where I can.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084308\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084308\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1334\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is one of my closest friends. His name is Taariq. We played basketball together our freshman year, and we ended up staying close for a very long time.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084309\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084309\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a picture of the sky — one of my favorite pictures. I always loved taking a picture of the sky when I was younger. It made me feel good when I got to see the sky in a different light.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084310\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084310\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a picture of one of my caregivers, a teacher of mine named Ortiz. She’s been good to my classmates and me, helping where she can, and I’m grateful for that.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084311\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084311\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is another picture of one of my friends. His name is Cleo. I met him in my freshman year. We met in PE, and we started playing one-on-one in basketball.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084312\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084312\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a picture of me and my caregiver, my girlfriend. I’ve known her since my freshman year, and we got together my junior year, her senior year. She makes me the happiest person ever, even when bad things are going on.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084313\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084313\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a picture of the ceiling. I always noticed nature, and it reminds me of how my journey is growing like the leaves inside this classroom.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084315\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084315\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a picture of a star in one of my classrooms. I took a picture of it because I feel like a star when I step onto the volleyball court.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084314\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084314\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a picture of a new friend I made at the Youth Beat Mental Health Workshop. Her name is Evelyn, but I call her Ev. These photos are from our first hangout, where we took pictures. I climbed a tree to get a better picture.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084316\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084316\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-11-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-11-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-11-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-11-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a different hallway where I first met most of the people in my pictures.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch2>Diego Sanchez Morfin\u003c/h2>\n\u003cp>My name is Diego Sanchez Morfin. I am a senior at Madison Park Academy in Oakland. I’m my parents’ second-youngest son, and I’m someone who enjoys spending time with family and friends and watching movies.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For this project, I chose my mother as my caregiver because she has always been there for me. She is the reason I am the way I am, and her influence has taught me so much.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Issues that impact my mental health revolve around the current state of our country. Countless immigrants who are trying to make ends meet are being treated horribly. Seeing this happening all around the world while coming from an immigrant family can be overwhelming. But my mother always helps me.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My mental health has had its roses and thorns, but whenever I am experiencing a thorn, my mother’s kindness turns it into a rose.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Through my photo essay, I want to show my mother’s beauty and the impact she has had on my life. Her kindness has taught me so much and has shaped me into who I am now.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084317\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084317\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">From a young age, my mother has never failed to uphold her faith — the faith she represents with her beauty.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084318\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084318\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Just like a rose, my mother’s name is Rosa. Her beauty is often overlooked, but this is a chance to showcase it.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084319\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084319\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Whether it is going to the school, dentist, hospital or grocery store, she always makes sure we get there safely.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084320\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084320\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The door I have gone in and out of for the majority of my life.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084321\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084321\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05_UPDATED-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05_UPDATED-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05_UPDATED-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05_UPDATED-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">No food can ever get close to the flavors my mom creates. Getting home from school means smelling our favorite meals.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084322\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084322\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1324\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-1536x1017.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">My name is Diego Sanchez. I’m my mother’s son, and I see myself through the images I capture.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084323\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084323\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">My mother’s constant support has shaped my upbringing. I’m now building other support systems and thriving as a rising college student. My girlfriend and I are on the left. My friend, my girlfriend and I are on the right.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084324\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1601px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084324\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1601\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg 1601w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-160x200.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-1230x1536.jpg 1230w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1601px) 100vw, 1601px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Only a paw away are my cats. They’ve stayed by my side for the past five years, bringing an extra layer of laughter.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084325\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084325\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1335\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Like other people’s childhoods, mine emerged in the playground. The same spot I drive by every day is the same spot I once wanted to stay in forever.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084327\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1907px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084327\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1907\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg 1907w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-160x168.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-1465x1536.jpg 1465w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1907px) 100vw, 1907px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">My mind is always in the light, the light filled with memories and future memories I’m creating.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch2>Korey Gibson\u003c/h2>\n\u003cp>Hello, my name is \u003cstrong>Korey Gibson\u003c/strong>. I’m a sophomore at Oakland Tech in Oakland. I am a student and a younger brother. Some things I like to do are draw, hang out with friends, go on hikes, take photos and listen to music.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For this project, I chose my mother as my caregiver because she has always taken care of me and supported me. She is very charismatic, authentic and just an overall kind, amazing person. Throughout my struggles with my mental health, she has always supported me and been a shoulder for me to lean on.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I am glad that I’ve gotten the support I needed. Having my mother to talk to has helped me so much with my mental health. Through this photo essay, I wanted to show how I feel and how my mom handles her mental health. I tried to capture photos that show even the little things that can give meaning in everyday life.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084328\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084328\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This photo was just me capturing my mom while she was working and having a face mask on. She multitasks a lot, so I tried to capture the feeling of being busy but also focused.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084329\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1333px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084329\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1333\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg 1333w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-1024x1536.jpg 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1333px) 100vw, 1333px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">When I saw the fly on the window, I had my camera, and it was just chilling on the glass. It made me think about how it’s important to admire and appreciate the small things in the world, too, not just the large things.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084330\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084330\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I took this photo in a rose garden after a storm. The flower was starting to wilt, and even while it was wilting, it still had this beauty to it. I wanted to capture it to show that even when something isn’t in the “best” condition, it’s still worth admiring.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084331\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1333px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084331\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1333\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg 1333w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-1024x1536.jpg 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1333px) 100vw, 1333px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a photo I took of some drawings I did. I was letting my mind wander, and my hands draw.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084332\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084332\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I captured this photo of my mom when she was trying to decompress from a long day. We all just sat on the couch and watched TV.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084333\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1333px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084333\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1333\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg 1333w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-1024x1536.jpg 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1333px) 100vw, 1333px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I took this photo because I really just liked the color of the plasma and I put my finger on the top to symbolize how I wanted to touch the plasma itself but I couldn’t.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084334\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084334\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I took this photo of my cat because she moves around a lot, and sometimes she is a little chaotic. I felt like I captured that feel with the blur and movement.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084335\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1333px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084335\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1333\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg 1333w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-1024x1536.jpg 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1333px) 100vw, 1333px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I took this photo of my mom and dad while we were on a walk in Alameda, just all taking a long walk around the water and getting fresh air.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084336\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084336\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I took this photo in the rose garden. I liked the way the bush looked with the flowers, and the pink really caught my eye with the red roses in the background, too.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084337\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1333px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084337\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1333\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg 1333w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-1024x1536.jpg 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1333px) 100vw, 1333px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This last photo I captured of my mom was at Joaquin Miller Park. It was just my mom basking in the sun, and I was trying to capture her in her element out in nature because she really likes to be in nature.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003ci>This project was produced jointly by KQED, YouthBeat and the CatchLight \u003c/i>\u003ca href=\"https://www.catchlight.io/mental-health\">\u003ci>mental health visual desk initiative\u003c/i>\u003c/a>\u003ci>.\u003c/i>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>One evening in February, a small group of \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/news/tag/oakland\">Oakland\u003c/a> high school students gathered in a circle in a classroom at MetWest High School to talk about the issues that impact their mental health. It was quiet at first, but soon, teens began to share their experiences: The trauma of losing a loved one.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Overwhelming pressure to succeed in school and comparison to others. Social media. Environmental conditions, such as the reality of finding an abandoned gun on the sidewalk.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The impacts of immigration on a community. Families living in “survival mode” and having no time to connect or process feelings.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There was a resounding consensus. Students felt that while mental health resources are available and Bay Area residents talk about being open to discussing mental health, in reality, it’s not a safe place. People — other youth in particular — can still be very judgmental if you are open about your mental health struggles.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These students were participating in a pilot workshop series focused on visual storytelling and youth mental health, organized by nonprofit media organization \u003ca href=\"https://www.catchlight.io/mental-health\">CatchLight’s Mental Health Visual Desk\u003c/a> and Oakland-based youth media organization \u003ca href=\"https://youthbeat.org/\">Youthbeat\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It was facilitated by visual journalists and editors from CatchLight and KQED, including myself, Florence Middleton, Ximena Natera, Martin do Nascimento and Jenny Stratton.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In \u003ca href=\"https://www.aecf.org/blog/generation-z-and-mental-health\">2021\u003c/a> and \u003ca href=\"https://www.aacap.org/AACAP/zLatest_News/Four_Years_On.aspx\">2025\u003c/a>, organizations like the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry declared a national emergency for children’s mental health in America, amid rising mental health-related hospital visits and suicide attempts. Gen Zers, those born between 1997 and 2012, are also \u003ca href=\"https://www.aecf.org/blog/generation-z-and-mental-health\">80% more likely\u003c/a> to report dealing with anxiety or depression compared to older generations.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The workshop aimed to give teens space to process some of these realities and contribute their own experiences to this narrative.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This cohort of high schoolers focused on mental health and caregiving. Each student chose a caregiver — a parent, teacher, friend, sibling, partner — whose care and often unseen labor quietly sustains them and shapes their well-being.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Over a three-month period, students developed photo essays documenting the impacts of that caregiving in their lives.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>They pushed themselves to be vulnerable. And they learned to photograph abstract concepts around mental well-being. Individually, each photo essay tells a deeply personal story. Collectively, they answer the question: In a time of crisis for young people’s mental health, whose hands hold them up?\u003c/p>\n\u003ch2>Evelyn Sanchez De Leon\u003c/h2>\n\u003cp>My name is Evelyn Sanchez De Leon. I’m a student at Oakland High School, and I enjoy music, art and nature. I’m the most expressive around my loved ones.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My caregiver is my best friend, Sharon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I’ve been well aware of my mental health as early as the age of 7. I spent many years figuring out who I am, what I am, and what I will be, alongside figuring out how to unwire the knots in my head that have been caused by my day-to-day life, making me feel lost and confused up until sixth grade, when I met Sharon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>She’s been my ride or die since the day we met, and truly has shown me that there is genuine good within people for the past six years. She’s helped me throughout my roughest periods in life, in which, at some points, I genuinely thought I wouldn’t seek a way out. She was there when I felt like I had nobody. She was there with me no matter what. She’s been there at my lowest, but has always helped me reach the highest levels in life whenever I thought I wasn’t capable and made me believe in myself in many ways.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I have nothing but pure love and admiration for her. I’m forever going to be grateful for everything she has done for me, helped me overcome and still is doing for my well-being. I tried to capture that in these pictures.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084277\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084277\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The view from my balcony. I love to step outside whenever I just want alone time.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084278\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084278\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A CD, a CD player and my keychain that was given to me by Sharon. I have a couple of CDs and use the player almost daily.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084281\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084281\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Yellow flowers. The color yellow reminds me of Sharon, since yellow represents warmth and happiness.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084280\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084280\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Sharon. She’s pretty photogenic in my eyes. The picture really captures her beauty.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084282\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084282\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A Machine Girl concert that Sharon and I attended.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084283\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084283\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1500\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-160x120.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-1536x1152.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A local bookstore that Sharon and I go to occasionally is one of our favorite spots.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084284\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084284\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1500\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-160x120.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-1536x1152.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I was going through a rough patch around the time this picture was taken and decided to take a walk around Lake Merritt. I enjoy nature whenever I feel down.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084285\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084285\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Two pelicans floating, which reminded me of the two of us. Sharon really loves pelicans.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084286\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084286\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ESDL-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I went on a walk in the middle of the night. It’s rare, but I seriously enjoy late-night walks.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch2>Adonis Paul Anthony\u003c/h2>\n\u003cp>Hey, my name is \u003cstrong>Adonis Paul Anthony\u003c/strong>. I’m a senior at Coliseum College Prep Academy (CCPA) in Oakland. I like playing video games, listening to music, exploring places, taking photos/videos and spending time with family and friends.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For this project, I chose my father as my caregiver. He’s had a big impact on my life — helping me figure out what I want to do and always being there when I need someone to talk to or when I’m feeling any type of way.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I think many families sometimes overlook mental health for Oakland youth, although many are dealing with stress and pressure. Some families do not prioritize mental health, which makes youth feel pressure to succeed in life, along with not always having space to openly talk about mental health. In addition, the environment around me affects me, and violence and struggle affect my community.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My father is mostly working and not always home; however, when my father is home, I have a lot of my own personal time to myself. When worrying about school, other things on my mind, and my future, mainly, I start to feel extremely overwhelmed. Due to this, I try not to think too much about it and only try to worry about what’s happening in the moment. I also try doing things that I enjoy, like hanging out with friends or my girlfriend, playing video games or going out and taking photos. But when I am not able to do any of those things, I am able to talk to my father.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I’ve faced challenges with my mental health many times, and having him as a supportive caregiver has played a huge role in helping me stay grounded and move forward. Whenever I am feeling overwhelmed, my father is usually able to tell and asks me how I am doing and checks on me to make sure I am okay. He is also able to give me any advice that I need and supports me in whatever I want to do for my future. In fact, when I am feeling the rock bottom of anything, I am able to talk to him. Not only is he someone I can talk to about my mental health, he also takes care of me by keeping food in my mouth and a roof over my head. He will do anything in the world to support me.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ultimately, for this photo essay, I wanted to show how the support and trust that my caregiver gives me has allowed me to have a lot of freedom.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084287\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1125px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084287\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1125\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg 1125w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-160x284.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-864x1536.jpg 864w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1125px) 100vw, 1125px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">In my bedroom, while I was looking outside my window at the sunset with two palm trees. This photo reminds me of when I am all alone in my room and sometimes feeling overwhelmed about my future and worrying about what’s going to happen next.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084288\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084288\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1330\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-1536x1021.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Photo was taken in San Francisco when me and my friends decided to go out and explore a new place. Although my dad isn’t physically caregiving, he is giving me the freedom to explore with my friends whenever and wherever.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084289\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084289\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A photo of me in San Francisco, taken by my girlfriend when we went out to explore and watch the sunset. This picture is me looking out at the world and reflecting on how much freedom I have.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084290\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084290\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This photo was taken in Stockton at a flower garden when I was visiting my mom. With all the freedom I have, I am able to blossom and experience new things.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084291\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084291\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">One photo is of my eye, which shows that in my life, I have my own perspective. The other picture is my gaming PC that my father got me. It’s very expensive and helps me entertain myself when I’m enjoying my personal time and not exploring outside.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084292\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084292\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1330\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-1536x1021.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Food that I am able to order whenever I want. Along with that, my father is able to provide me with money to spend on what I want.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084293\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084293\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The ceiling of my room, with a galaxy astronaut light and LED lights on the wall on each side. My lights remind me of the galaxy and how big it is, with many things to explore in the world, but in my space.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084294\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084294\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">San Francisco at night after a long day exploring with my friends. This makes me think about how I get overwhelmed when thinking about the future, but am also able to go out and see the world for myself, which is represented in the second picture of my eye, but this time with a shadow.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084295\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084295\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1125\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-1536x864.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-APA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-1200x675.jpg 1200w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">In San Francisco, when my friends and I went to explore on a cloudy, rainy day. The stormy day reminded me of how the future will come soon, but I also still have the freedom that my father is able to give me.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch2>Nhien Tang\u003c/h2>\n\u003cp>My name is \u003cstrong>Nhien Tang\u003c/strong>. I’m a junior at Oakland High School. I’m a first-generation student who likes music, art, reading and spending time with friends and family.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I chose my boyfriend as my caregiver. During the time we’ve been together, I’ve felt like I’ve improved myself as a person. He has always supported me and makes sure that I stay healthy because I don’t really eat a lot of nutritious food otherwise.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I started to notice my mental health a lot more during middle school. During that time, I was growing up and becoming more aware of things around me. My family was always busy, so I didn’t have any emotional support. So I depended on myself and the internet during my whole childhood. I’ve dealt with my struggles by myself, often isolating myself from everyone whenever I’m stressed. At times, I couldn’t properly take care of myself, including eating, showering or just getting out of bed. I managed to heal a bit by myself, yet I still have those periods of struggle.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That was until my boyfriend came into my life. He showed me how to rely on someone and how to open up. He taught me that being vulnerable is not weak, but a strong trait. He supported me in many ways — cooking me food, helping me with schoolwork, washing my hair and so much more. Because of his actions, I’ve always felt comfortable in his presence.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In this photo essay, I want to show how my love has supported me on my healing journey.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084296\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084296\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The desk that has been through so much: studying, homework, gaming and drawing. Barely getting clean because of the workload I have during school.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084297\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084297\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The girl behind that desk. She is me. I was cooking with my boyfriend.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084298\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084298\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I’ve always struggled with my identity. Religion, sexuality and race. It caused me a lot of breakdowns and stress. I couldn’t communicate with my family about these topics because of the language barrier we have.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084299\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084299\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The alcohol bottles in the living room cabinet. My family likes partying a lot. I hate loud noises. Whenever they party, I lock myself in my room to get away from the loud music.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084300\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084300\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">My caregiver, my boyfriend, is cooking with me. He’s way better at cooking than I am. I always feel loved whenever he cooks for me, or when we cook together.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084301\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084301\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The letter my boyfriend gave me, using my nickname: Nhi. He has always been good with his words, making me feel calm and comfortable. Talking to him makes me feel like a flower blooming outside.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084302\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084302\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1500\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-160x120.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-1536x1152.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">My love and I. We took pictures at a photobooth, not the first ever one, and definitely not the last.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084303\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084303\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The results of cooking together. I never once doubted how it would taste because I know it’ll always taste good to me whenever we cook together.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084304\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084304\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">We’re always going out together. I’ve noticed I become happier when I’m with my boyfriend. I’m more confident in myself just by being by his side.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084305\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084305\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1337\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-NT-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-1536x1027.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The cherry blossom flower represents me right now, showing how I have grown as a person because of my caregiver.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch2>Zay Austin\u003c/h2>\n\u003cp>My name is \u003cstrong>Zay Austin\u003c/strong>, and I am a junior at Oakland High School. All these pictures represent me and my mental health because most of my life was kind of hard. But when I got to this school and met all these people and made new friends, I had a sense of purpose. I ended up finding a new self, made all these friends freshman year and I met my caregivers in my sophomore year.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The caregivers I chose are my study skills teacher, named Ortiz — because she was one of the people who helped me get a passing grade on my assignments — and my friends and my girlfriend. They all kept me on track and made me happy in life, especially when I met my girlfriend. We met my freshman year (her sophomore year), but I am older than her by two days.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We started dating this year (my junior year), and we are happy to be together. She makes sure I always go to class and stops being distracted by trying to make sure I have my work done. She also listens to my problems, and I do the same for her when she needs to talk about her day or when she is down. Looking at it all now, meeting these people that I took pictures of changed me a lot.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084306\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084306\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is the first place where I played hide and seek with my volleyball team, my freshman year. It was a good experience, and they’ve taught me a lot.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084307\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084307\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is where I found a way to become a better leader within a classroom. It taught me how to give ideas and help where I can.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084308\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084308\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1334\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is one of my closest friends. His name is Taariq. We played basketball together our freshman year, and we ended up staying close for a very long time.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084309\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084309\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a picture of the sky — one of my favorite pictures. I always loved taking a picture of the sky when I was younger. It made me feel good when I got to see the sky in a different light.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084310\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084310\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a picture of one of my caregivers, a teacher of mine named Ortiz. She’s been good to my classmates and me, helping where she can, and I’m grateful for that.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084311\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084311\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is another picture of one of my friends. His name is Cleo. I met him in my freshman year. We met in PE, and we started playing one-on-one in basketball.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084312\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084312\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a picture of me and my caregiver, my girlfriend. I’ve known her since my freshman year, and we got together my junior year, her senior year. She makes me the happiest person ever, even when bad things are going on.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084313\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084313\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a picture of the ceiling. I always noticed nature, and it reminds me of how my journey is growing like the leaves inside this classroom.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084315\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084315\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a picture of a star in one of my classrooms. I took a picture of it because I feel like a star when I step onto the volleyball court.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084314\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084314\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a picture of a new friend I made at the Youth Beat Mental Health Workshop. Her name is Evelyn, but I call her Ev. These photos are from our first hangout, where we took pictures. I climbed a tree to get a better picture.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084316\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084316\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-11-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-11-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-11-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-ZA-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-11-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a different hallway where I first met most of the people in my pictures.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch2>Diego Sanchez Morfin\u003c/h2>\n\u003cp>My name is Diego Sanchez Morfin. I am a senior at Madison Park Academy in Oakland. I’m my parents’ second-youngest son, and I’m someone who enjoys spending time with family and friends and watching movies.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For this project, I chose my mother as my caregiver because she has always been there for me. She is the reason I am the way I am, and her influence has taught me so much.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Issues that impact my mental health revolve around the current state of our country. Countless immigrants who are trying to make ends meet are being treated horribly. Seeing this happening all around the world while coming from an immigrant family can be overwhelming. But my mother always helps me.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My mental health has had its roses and thorns, but whenever I am experiencing a thorn, my mother’s kindness turns it into a rose.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Through my photo essay, I want to show my mother’s beauty and the impact she has had on my life. Her kindness has taught me so much and has shaped me into who I am now.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084317\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084317\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">From a young age, my mother has never failed to uphold her faith — the faith she represents with her beauty.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084318\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084318\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Just like a rose, my mother’s name is Rosa. Her beauty is often overlooked, but this is a chance to showcase it.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084319\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084319\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Whether it is going to the school, dentist, hospital or grocery store, she always makes sure we get there safely.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084320\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1500px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084320\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1500\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg 1500w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-1152x1536.jpg 1152w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1500px) 100vw, 1500px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The door I have gone in and out of for the majority of my life.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084321\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084321\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05_UPDATED-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05_UPDATED-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05_UPDATED-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05_UPDATED-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">No food can ever get close to the flavors my mom creates. Getting home from school means smelling our favorite meals.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084322\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084322\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1324\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-1536x1017.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">My name is Diego Sanchez. I’m my mother’s son, and I see myself through the images I capture.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084323\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084323\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">My mother’s constant support has shaped my upbringing. I’m now building other support systems and thriving as a rising college student. My girlfriend and I are on the left. My friend, my girlfriend and I are on the right.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084324\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1601px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084324\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1601\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg 1601w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-160x200.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-1230x1536.jpg 1230w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1601px) 100vw, 1601px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Only a paw away are my cats. They’ve stayed by my side for the past five years, bringing an extra layer of laughter.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084325\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084325\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1335\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Like other people’s childhoods, mine emerged in the playground. The same spot I drive by every day is the same spot I once wanted to stay in forever.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084327\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1907px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084327\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1907\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg 1907w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-160x168.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-DSM-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-1465x1536.jpg 1465w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1907px) 100vw, 1907px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">My mind is always in the light, the light filled with memories and future memories I’m creating.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch2>Korey Gibson\u003c/h2>\n\u003cp>Hello, my name is \u003cstrong>Korey Gibson\u003c/strong>. I’m a sophomore at Oakland Tech in Oakland. I am a student and a younger brother. Some things I like to do are draw, hang out with friends, go on hikes, take photos and listen to music.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For this project, I chose my mother as my caregiver because she has always taken care of me and supported me. She is very charismatic, authentic and just an overall kind, amazing person. Throughout my struggles with my mental health, she has always supported me and been a shoulder for me to lean on.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I am glad that I’ve gotten the support I needed. Having my mother to talk to has helped me so much with my mental health. Through this photo essay, I wanted to show how I feel and how my mom handles her mental health. I tried to capture photos that show even the little things that can give meaning in everyday life.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084328\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084328\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-01-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This photo was just me capturing my mom while she was working and having a face mask on. She multitasks a lot, so I tried to capture the feeling of being busy but also focused.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084329\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1333px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084329\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1333\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED.jpg 1333w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-02-KQED-1024x1536.jpg 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1333px) 100vw, 1333px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">When I saw the fly on the window, I had my camera, and it was just chilling on the glass. It made me think about how it’s important to admire and appreciate the small things in the world, too, not just the large things.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084330\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084330\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-03-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I took this photo in a rose garden after a storm. The flower was starting to wilt, and even while it was wilting, it still had this beauty to it. I wanted to capture it to show that even when something isn’t in the “best” condition, it’s still worth admiring.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084331\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1333px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084331\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1333\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED.jpg 1333w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-04-KQED-1024x1536.jpg 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1333px) 100vw, 1333px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This is a photo I took of some drawings I did. I was letting my mind wander, and my hands draw.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084332\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084332\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-05-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I captured this photo of my mom when she was trying to decompress from a long day. We all just sat on the couch and watched TV.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084333\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1333px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084333\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1333\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED.jpg 1333w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-06-KQED-1024x1536.jpg 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1333px) 100vw, 1333px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I took this photo because I really just liked the color of the plasma and I put my finger on the top to symbolize how I wanted to touch the plasma itself but I couldn’t.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084334\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084334\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-07-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I took this photo of my cat because she moves around a lot, and sometimes she is a little chaotic. I felt like I captured that feel with the blur and movement.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084335\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1333px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084335\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1333\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED.jpg 1333w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-08-KQED-1024x1536.jpg 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1333px) 100vw, 1333px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I took this photo of my mom and dad while we were on a walk in Alameda, just all taking a long walk around the water and getting fresh air.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084336\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084336\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-09-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">I took this photo in the rose garden. I liked the way the bush looked with the flowers, and the pink really caught my eye with the red roses in the background, too.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_12084337\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1333px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-12084337\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1333\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED.jpg 1333w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2026/05/2026.04.25-KG-MENTALHEALTHWORKSHOP-10-KQED-1024x1536.jpg 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1333px) 100vw, 1333px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">This last photo I captured of my mom was at Joaquin Miller Park. It was just my mom basking in the sun, and I was trying to capture her in her element out in nature because she really likes to be in nature.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003ci>This project was produced jointly by KQED, YouthBeat and the CatchLight \u003c/i>\u003ca href=\"https://www.catchlight.io/mental-health\">\u003ci>mental health visual desk initiative\u003c/i>\u003c/a>\u003ci>.\u003c/i>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"info": "What kind of no sabo word is Hyphenación? For us, it’s about living within a hyphenation. Like being a third-gen Mexican-American from the Texas border now living that Bay Area Chicano life. Like Xorje! Each week we bring together a couple of hyphenated Latinos to talk all about personal life choices: family, careers, relationships, belonging … everything is on the table. ",
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"info": "The Political Mind of Jerry Brown brings listeners the wisdom of the former Governor, Mayor, and presidential candidate. Scott Shafer interviewed Brown for more than 40 hours, covering the former governor's life and half-century in the political game and Brown has some lessons he'd like to share. ",
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"marketplace": {
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"info": "Our flagship program, helmed by Kai Ryssdal, examines what the day in money delivered, through stories, conversations, newsworthy numbers and more. Updated Monday through Friday at about 3:30 p.m. PT.",
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"info": "The MindShift podcast explores the innovations in education that are shaping how kids learn. Hosts Ki Sung and Katrina Schwartz introduce listeners to educators, researchers, parents and students who are developing effective ways to improve how kids learn. We cover topics like how fed-up administrators are developing surprising tactics to deal with classroom disruptions; how listening to podcasts are helping kids develop reading skills; the consequences of overparenting; and why interdisciplinary learning can engage students on all ends of the traditional achievement spectrum. This podcast is part of the MindShift education site, a division of KQED News. KQED is an NPR/PBS member station based in San Francisco. You can also visit the MindShift website for episodes and supplemental blog posts or tweet us \u003ca href=\"https://twitter.com/MindShiftKQED\">@MindShiftKQED\u003c/a> or visit us at \u003ca href=\"/mindshift\">MindShift.KQED.org\u003c/a>",
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"info": "For decades, the process for how police police themselves has been inconsistent – if not opaque. In some states, like California, these proceedings were completely hidden. After a new police transparency law unsealed scores of internal affairs files, our reporters set out to examine these cases and the shadow world of police discipline. On Our Watch brings listeners into the rooms where officers are questioned and witnesses are interrogated to find out who this system is really protecting. Is it the officers, or the public they've sworn to serve?",
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"tagline": "Politics from a personal perspective",
"info": "Political Breakdown is a new series that explores the political intersection of California and the nation. Each week hosts Scott Shafer and Marisa Lagos are joined with a new special guest to unpack politics -- with personality — and offer an insider’s glimpse at how politics happens.",
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"possible": {
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"title": "Possible",
"info": "Possible is hosted by entrepreneur Reid Hoffman and writer Aria Finger. Together in Possible, Hoffman and Finger lead enlightening discussions about building a brighter collective future. The show features interviews with visionary guests like Trevor Noah, Sam Altman and Janette Sadik-Khan. Possible paints an optimistic portrait of the world we can create through science, policy, business, art and our shared humanity. It asks: What if everything goes right for once? How can we get there? Each episode also includes a short fiction story generated by advanced AI GPT-4, serving as a thought-provoking springboard to speculate how humanity could leverage technology for good.",
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"pri-the-world": {
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"info": "Each weekday, host Marco Werman and his team of producers bring you the world's most interesting stories in an hour of radio that reminds us just how small our planet really is.",
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"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-World-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
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},
"radiolab": {
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"info": "A two-time Peabody Award-winner, Radiolab is an investigation told through sounds and stories, and centered around one big idea. In the Radiolab world, information sounds like music and science and culture collide. Hosted by Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich, the show is designed for listeners who demand skepticism, but appreciate wonder. WNYC Studios is the producer of other leading podcasts including Freakonomics Radio, Death, Sex & Money, On the Media and many more.",
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"reveal": {
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"info": "Created by The Center for Investigative Reporting and PRX, Reveal is public radios first one-hour weekly radio show and podcast dedicated to investigative reporting. Credible, fact based and without a partisan agenda, Reveal combines the power and artistry of driveway moment storytelling with data-rich reporting on critically important issues. The result is stories that inform and inspire, arming our listeners with information to right injustices, hold the powerful accountable and improve lives.Reveal is hosted by Al Letson and showcases the award-winning work of CIR and newsrooms large and small across the nation. In a radio and podcast market crowded with choices, Reveal focuses on important and often surprising stories that illuminate the world for our listeners.",
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},
"rightnowish": {
"id": "rightnowish",
"title": "Rightnowish",
"tagline": "Art is where you find it",
"info": "Rightnowish digs into life in the Bay Area right now… ish. Journalist Pendarvis Harshaw takes us to galleries painted on the sides of liquor stores in West Oakland. We'll dance in warehouses in the Bayview, make smoothies with kids in South Berkeley, and listen to classical music in a 1984 Cutlass Supreme in Richmond. Every week, Pen talks to movers and shakers about how the Bay Area shapes what they create, and how they shape the place we call home.",
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},
"science-friday": {
"id": "science-friday",
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"info": "Science Friday is a weekly science talk show, broadcast live over public radio stations nationwide. Each week, the show focuses on science topics that are in the news and tries to bring an educated, balanced discussion to bear on the scientific issues at hand. Panels of expert guests join host Ira Flatow, a veteran science journalist, to discuss science and to take questions from listeners during the call-in portion of the program.",
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"snap-judgment": {
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"title": "Snap Judgment",
"tagline": "Real stories with killer beats",
"info": "The Snap Judgment radio show and podcast mixes real stories with killer beats to produce cinematic, dramatic radio. Snap's musical brand of storytelling dares listeners to see the world through the eyes of another. This is storytelling... with a BEAT!! Snap first aired on public radio stations nationwide in July 2010. Today, Snap Judgment airs on over 450 public radio stations and is brought to the airwaves by KQED & PRX.",
"airtime": "SAT 1pm-2pm, 9pm-10pm",
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