How are you? No, how are you, actually?

This is the most important question we can ask each other. I came to this realization when I was having breakfast with a friend: I asked how he was, and he shrugged, and said, “I’m okay.”

“How are you, actually?”

And there it was. That one little word made a world of difference. We found ourselves having an open, honest conversation, in which we shared our struggles and gave each other advice. In that moment, I realized the power of one little word—a word that meant that I cared about how my friend was doing, and didn’t simply want to hear that he was “fine.”

Lately, our campus has been having conversations expressing the need for a community more conducive to our mental well-being. Unfortunately, this talk hasn’t led to much action. Sitting and stewing in our anger about what needs to be done won’t effect change; we must take it upon ourselves to create the very outlet we desire.

There’s been a lot of fantastic discussion about how Harvard needs open spaces and forums, like study breaks and peer-led groups, where people can confront issues they may otherwise be afraid to address. I’m completely in favor of creating these spaces, but the Harvard student body needs more than that; we need an entirely open atmosphere—one where students don’t feel judged sharing their thoughts over dining hall lunches, or even in passing in the hallway. And that openness exists on an individual level, not simply on a large scale.

We are accustomed to hiding behind facades of “good” and “happy.” We tell others we’re “fine,” because we’re afraid of being judged for any other answer. It’s important for our community to have access to many self-care resources, but it’s even more important to be able to admit that we’re not fine to one another. We have the power to check in with others and ask how they’re truly doing, and take five minutes to listen to what they have to say.

Of course, this change is more daunting than it sounds. Checking in seems like an onerous, time intensive task. Every student here is busy, and not everyone necessarily has the time to take a break and see how a friend is doing. Even more intimidating, people feel that they won’t know what to do if a friend presents a problem and needs advice. Because of these fears, people shy away from asking others how things are, or whether there’s anything they can do to be of help. But the act of asking—of caring—is intrinsically helpful. By taking the extra minute to see how someone is really doing, beyond the masks of “fine” and “great,” we show someone we care. And exposing someone else to the vulnerability that comes with a truthful answer is just as meaningful.

In a setting where everyone is striving to be the best, it’s easy to get caught up in our own worlds. We have this weird idea that acknowledging our limitations and asking for help is equivalent to personal weakness and ineptitude. The intersection of this perfectionistic environment and misconception that reaching out for help is a character flaw makes people afraid to reach out to others, and afraid to see how others are doing. We each have the power to remove the stigma associated with imperfection—let’s start by listening, instead of merely hearing, and asking for help when we feel stuck.

Harvard, I challenge you to ask for honesty. I challenge you to stop asking, “How are you?” and start asking, “How are you, actually?” And I challenge you to respond with anything but, “I’m fine.”

Julia E. Canick '17 is a molecular and cellular biology concentrator living in Adams House.