In the shadow of Ontario’s bustling urban centers and quiet rural communities alike, mental health struggles often remain invisible burdens. This reality is precisely what prompted Sault Ste. Marie resident Vanessa Iacoe to launch “Carry Each Other’s Burdens,” a grassroots campaign that’s making mental health conversations as visible as the reusable bags participants carry.
“People are suffering in silence,” Iacoe told me during our conversation at a local coffee shop, her own purple bag resting beside her chair. “The bag becomes a conversation starter. Someone asks about it, and suddenly we’re talking about mental health in line at the grocery store.”
The premise is disarmingly simple. Participants carry a purple reusable shopping bag emblazoned with the campaign slogan “Carry Each Other’s Burdens” throughout May, which is Mental Health Awareness Month. The bags serve as both practical tools and powerful symbols.
What began as a modest local initiative has steadily expanded across Northern Ontario communities, with participants from Sudbury to Thunder Bay joining the movement. The campaign has distributed more than 300 bags so far, with new requests coming in daily.
Mental health advocates see particular value in the campaign’s approach to rural and northern communities, where stigma often remains entrenched and services scarce. According to the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health, residents in rural Ontario communities face significant barriers to mental health support, including transportation challenges and limited specialist availability.
“In smaller communities, everyone knows everyone, which can make seeking help feel risky,” explains Dr. Margaret Cousins, a psychologist with Northern Mental Health Services. “This campaign normalizes these conversations in public spaces where they wouldn’t typically happen.”
The Canadian Mental Health Association reports that one in five Canadians experiences mental illness or addiction problems in any given year. Yet the 2023 provincial budget allocated just 7% of healthcare funding toward mental health services, highlighting the persistent gap between need and resources.
The visual nature of the campaign addresses what many mental health professionals identify as a key barrier to progress: invisibility.
“You can’t see mental illness like you can see a broken arm,” Iacoe explains. “The bags make the invisible visible in a way that invites conversation rather than forcing it.”
Local businesses have embraced the initiative. The Rad Zone, a downtown music store, keeps a stack of bags available for customers. Owner Dave Burrows has witnessed several meaningful exchanges sparked by the purple bags.
“Just yesterday, I overheard two strangers comparing experiences with anxiety while waiting in line,” Burrows shared. “That doesn’t happen without something breaking the ice.”
The campaign deliberately avoids clinical language, focusing instead on accessible metaphors. The concept of “carrying burdens” resonates across age groups and backgrounds, creating entry points for discussions that might otherwise feel intimidating.
Sixteen-year-old participant Josh Morningstar puts it plainly: “It’s easier to talk about heavy stuff when you’re talking about a bag. It’s like, we all carry stuff, right? Some days the bag feels heavier.”
The provincial government’s Roadmap to Wellness strategy, launched in 2020, promised to build a comprehensive mental health system, yet community advocates argue progress remains too slow. Initiatives like “Carry Each Other’s Burdens” fill critical gaps while formal systems develop.
Provincial MPP Ross Romano has taken notice, carrying his own purple bag to recent community events. “These grassroots approaches complement our formal strategies,” Romano noted during a recent community forum. “Sometimes the most effective solutions come directly from the communities themselves.”
The campaign avoids partisan framing, focusing instead on universal experiences. This approach has allowed it to gain traction across political divides in a way more formalized programs sometimes struggle to achieve.
For Emma Lapointe, a participant who struggled with postpartum depression, the bag represents something profoundly important. “I spent months pretending everything was fine,” she told me, her voice catching slightly. “Now I carry this bag as a reminder that none of us should pretend anymore.”
The initiative has sparked similar campaigns in neighboring provinces, with groups in Manitoba and Quebec developing their own versions. While the approach is grassroots, the impact feels increasingly significant.
Mental health professionals emphasize that while awareness campaigns alone cannot replace proper care, they play a crucial role in directing people toward resources and reducing isolation.
“The first step is often the hardest,” says Angie Cusson, a social worker with Algoma Public Health. “Anything that makes that first conversation easier potentially saves lives.”
As Mental Health Awareness Month continues, purple bags will become increasingly visible in communities across Northern Ontario. For Iacoe and fellow organizers, success isn’t measured in policy changes or funding increases, but in conversations started and connections made.
“We’re not trying to fix the entire system,” Iacoe says, adjusting her purple bag as we conclude our interview. “We’re just making it a little easier to say ‘I’m struggling’ or ‘How can I help?’ Sometimes that’s enough to change someone’s whole day—or their whole life.”
