Poems by Maryum Ali
Recited at the Association of Community Mental Health Centers of Kansas, Inc. (ACMHCK)
2025 Annual Conference of Behavioral Health
“Architects of Healing”
We call it behavioral health. It’s also something else.
It’s the blueprint of wealth.
Not dollars, not gold, but the riches of the soul,
Where actions and habits carve stories untold.
It’s the link between breath and belief, between joy and grief
It’s depression. It’s anxiety. It’s fear and despair.
It’s substances and secrets and pain that is shared.
But it’s also recovery, resilience and repair,
Because healing begins when somebody cares.
And you - psychiatrists, nurses, case managers, too.
Recreational therapists painting skies brand new.
Clinicians, administrators, social workers with might.
You are guardians helping to bring back the light.
Meeting people in sorrow, in anger, and shame,
In hopelessness, darkness, yet you call them by name.
You don’t see a problem. You see a person instead.
You don’t see a barrier. You see a path that’s ahead.
You remind us hardships happen, but life can still be profound.
Dopamine, serotonin, yes, joy can be found.
You teach us to notice what’s going just right,
To reframe the story and reclaim true sight.
You create safe spaces where trust can flow.
Planting seeds for coping so futures can grow.
You teach self-control, social skills and self-worth
Reminding each client, they have purpose from birth.
We all deserve health equity, a fair chance to be whole,
Not just patches on wounds but repairs for the soul.
Decades of research, decades of proof, various fields raising the roof,
That prevention protects that connection sustains.
That prosocial choices unlock internal chains.
So today, this day, this gathering we start
With gratitude deep from the core of the heart,
Because behavioral health is not just a field,
It’s a battlefield, a harvest, shield.
And you all out there, standing on the fronts lines,
Turning broken to better with support from The Divine.
Yes. Here’s to the healers, the supporters, the guides
Holding hope for humanity with empathy and pride
“Reclaiming Their Light”
I worked in the Gang Prevention & Youth Development scene,
In the highest-crime areas, where sirens were screams.
We served kids, 10 to 14-year-old.
Middle school students, vulnerable yet bold.
Their exposure to violence, a shadow that chills,
Eclipsing young futures, eroding their will.
Violence leaves fingerprints, sharp, unkind,
Etched on the heart, engraved in the mind.
Quick tempers flare, hearts heavy with fear,
Frustration in voices, their worries are clear.
When they came to us, our commitment was true
A journey for parents to be on board too.
On a ride across bridges of time to rebuild,
A chance to plant trust where the soil was still.
So, we listened. Really listened. Not just to their words,
But to non-verbal cues that go often unheard.
Our safe space became their solid ground,
Where judgment fell quiet, and acceptance was found.
Where they could stumble and still, we’d stay,
Not turning our backs when they lost their way.
We showed them care that didn’t expire.
Constant and steady, trust building much higher.
And in that embrace, they began to believe
That love, not rejection is what they’d receive.
Now they are learning to calm their flames,
To breathe through emotions, not lash out in blame.
Many conflicts prevented, putting peace in the air
A chance to choose patience instead of despair
From chaos to clarity, life offered new thrills.
Conquering trials with problem-solving skills.
Academic support greeting them at last.
Grades shooting upward, self-doubt fading fast.
Self-esteem rising, they started to see,
“I’m not just surviving. There’s greatness in me.”
Goal-setting lit visions, new ideas took shape.
The future was real, not just an escape.
We took them places outside city lines,
Enriching new spaces that broadened their minds.
Possibilities blooming, they never had seen,
Visualizing new futures fulfilling their dreams.
They learned how drugs and alcohol prey,
Targeting them in a calculated way
Now aware of the pipeline that collects penal codes
Avoiding trips from the school to the jail down the road.
Ya see, knowledge is power that sparks a desire.
A hunger for life, appetizing and wiser.
They said, “We want to grow older, We will not be pawns.”
We’ll work on new pathways to carry us on.
Not cornered by crime or gunned down in a fight
But standing in confidence, reclaiming our light.
“Don’t Stigmatize Survival”
I said,
Don’t you dare reduce a life to a paycheck.
Don’t you label resilience as laziness.
Don’t you paint poverty in the colors of shame
When it’s the system that sculpted the frame.
Listen.
People balancing on the poverty line
Are tightrope walkers without a net,
Stretching every dollar like it’s elastic,
Feeding 3 mouths from one plate,
Turning scraps into meals,
Hope into fuel.
But the world…
It spits stereotypes like broken glass.
Calls them “unmotivated,”
When they’re running marathons with cinder blocks strapped to their backs.
Calls them “drains,”
When they’ve been plugging holes in a leaky boat
That was sinking before they were even born.
See the truth…
Poverty is not a scarlet letter.
It’s not an identity.
It’s not a stain.
It’s a weight that’s been passed down,
A policy problem dressed up as “personal failure.”
And yet they rise.
They stitch dignity from threads of scarcity.
They build futures out of fractured bricks.
They show up,
Even when the world shows them the door.
So, stop with the stigma,
The sideways glances,
The whispered judgments in checkout lines.
Because poverty is not a crime.
It’s a condition manufactured by inequality,
Held in place by silence.
And when you see someone standing at that line,
Know this.
They are not broken.
They are battle-tested.
They are not “less than.”
They are our brothers, our sisters,
Our reflection in the mirror.
So, let’s keep having their backs,
Keep lifting them up,
Keep reminding ourselves
THEY ARE OUR HUMANITY !