Supporting child refugees: Christine Yeboah on working as a Psychologist
By Cameron WaggWorking tirelessly every day, Christine Yeboah, 29, is one of many professionals dedicated to protecting the mental health of some of the most vulnerable people within the UK. As an Assistant Psychologist working with asylum-seeking and refugee children, Christine’s job is certainly not easy, but is certainly fulfilling.
Originally wanting to be an actor, Christine decided to pivot on her aspirations as a young teenager. She had always loved getting to know people and giving them advice; however, it was only after she left drama school that it became clear where she wanted to go with her work.
“Unfortunately at school I was really badly bullied. It was horrendous. Physical, verbal, online. There was no escape. I was experiencing eating disorders, self-harm, depression. I was constantly anxious. I actually developed PTSD.”
That experience got me thinking: why are kids so cruel? What is it about being in a school environment and being a young person that causes that group mentality? So, when I left secondary school, I wanted to go back into schools and work as a school counsellor. I wanted to be there for someone like me.
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I did a degree in psychology which gave me the opportunity to do work experience. Mostly with adults, but I did a little bit with children. It was stressful — the kids would take out their anger on you. At one point I didn’t think I wanted to work with children anymore, but I ended up back working with children because I wanted to undertake the challenge. These kids were so angry because people had given up on them. I didn’t want to be another professional who did just that. So I wanted to go back, and this time I worked more exclusively with asylum-seeking and refugee children.
Within her work, Christine runs weekly workshops to support the children, focusing on educating them about mental health. Working with children from across the Middle East and parts of Africa, such as Afghanistan, Iran and South Sudan, Christine reported how many mental health issues like depression, anxiety, and PTSD don’t have a word in these places.
“I run a therapeutic group. Every Tuesday we meet together and teach the children things about mental health and conditions that they may not understand because the cultures are different.”
Inevitably, Christine and other professionals like her do not have an easy job. She spoke about how she has heard some of the worst things she has ever heard from these children, who are fleeing terrorism and violence. These stories are only made worse by how the children are treated once they arrive in the UK. Many are interviewed multiple times and asked to justify their identities and life stories.
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Wider pressures put upon those working in the system such as the public narrative on immigration, asylum and national security means that while the treatment of these young people may not stem from individual cruelty they still face harsher treatment, Christine notes. When it comes to asylum claims, especially those from young people, the political debate on the broader public perception on the value of migration, and the place these immigrants take in society plays a heavy role when it comes to questioning or denying these claims.
“To go through all of that and to arrive in the UK and be challenged. It is so dehumanising and is such a violation. After everything all you want is safety, and the one institutional body that has the means to save you is saying they don’t believe you. But no child would make that journey if it weren’t the last resort.”
Christine often hears these children say: “I came here for safety but there are protests about me staying in luxury hotels and having all this money given to me.”
Yet, she responds: “It is the opposite. These children get the bare minimum.”
Rebuilding trust with the children after such treatment on arrival in the UK is not easy. Christine spoke about how they have major trust issues, and in her role, she builds rapport and tries to break down any perceived power imbalances. A common way this is done is through sharing food and eating it together.
“I don’t know it all and I don’t pretend to know it all. They are the experts, and I try to meet them where they are at.”
Speaking about what she wants to change, Christine believes re-education is the way forward. She argues the Government is not doing enough to care for its most vulnerable, which has a trickle-down effect on local governments and the professionals working with them.
“It’s not just about policies — it’s about real people’s lives. As mental health professionals, we feel the emotional impact of those policies through the children we support. One of the biggest barriers is the lack of meaningful action at a structural and governmental level. We need to focus on uplifting these young people, not dehumanising or vilifying them. On a good day I’m disappointed. On a bad day, I’m angry.”
Outside of her work, Christine is a proudly queer woman. Embracing this aspect of her life, she embeds her queerness within her life and work, using it as a way of extending empathy to other minority groups and towards those who feel misrepresented.
“I want to connect to voices that are least heard and represented. Even more so when you’re an ethnic minority or you’re a refugee because you don’t identify with how the Government is operating, or you don’t feel safe being who you are. I want to use my experience of feeling othered.”
“Being Black and atheist is one thing. From my experience most Black people are religious in the UK. And on top of that I don’t identify as straight, and I’m a woman. There are all these barriers, hurdles and experiences of feeling misunderstood. I connect with people who are going through difficult things in life. We don’t hear from them as much as we should. Queer in itself means odd, and for me it means different. That is how I want to work. I want to reach as many people as possible to prevent mental illness.”
Christine shared that it is not always easy. Working with vulnerable people and caring about social issues is tiring. She manages her workload however, stating how the most important thing she does is allow herself to relax when she is outside of the office.
“I am so passionate about equality and equity, and it gets really tiring pushing that. Things like the supreme court ruling on what a woman is, is exhausting enough as an ally. But if it’s affecting you or people you love it must be so emotionally taxing. Because I’m part of that community I feel it makes me a safe person. I want to use my privilege as a professional to uplift others.”
I’m a massive nerd so I love to read, play board games and video games. I also do things I never got to do as a child because I never had the friendship group or I was too anxious. Ultimately, it’s about switching off. It’s a skill I’ve learnt. It’s not easy to go home sitting on the tube thinking about a session you had, or a comment a child has said to you. I care so much about these people and in order to do so I need to care about me. So I can go back and give them my full self. I used to feel guilty about going back to my life at 5. But no, I don’t want to take away from myself. The children and families I work with need my whole self. That means I need to take care of myself.”
Despite how difficult her work is, and how bleak things can seem, Christine remains hopeful - not just because she wants to believe in change, but because of the resilience she sees in the young people she works with every day.
“It has to get better than this. I’m really disappointed and sometimes ashamed of how things are now, but I’m still hopeful - and that hope comes from the young people I work with. After everything they’ve been through, they still show up, still laugh, still try. They have every reason to give up - but they don’t. So if they can keep going, then I owe it to them to believe things can change.”
