Photography by Megan Mumford

This story is part of our annual Capital Region Gives Back initiative that honors 10 locals who are making our community a better place. Read up on all of the 2025 honorees and join us on December 2 for the 7th annual Capital Region Gives Back event at Putnam Place.

Earlier this year, jockey Trevor McCarthy retired from horse racing. His reason for hanging up his helmet? Challenges with his mental health.

“I was very stressed out all the time,” says McCarthy, who’d been riding professionally since he was 18. “I’d be stressed out if I had a good week or a bad week.” Add in the high risk of injuries (he broke his tibia as an apprentice rider) and struggles with weight (at 5’ 9” it was difficult to stay in the weight class of his shorter competitors) and McCarthy’s career was making him—in his words—miserable.

McCarthy’s experience isn’t an isolated incident: In 2023, two young jockeys, 23-year-old Avery Whisman and 29-year-old Alex Canchari, took their own lives less than six weeks apart. Other jockeys have spoken up about the lack of mental health support services available to them (which are provided for professional athletes in virtually every other sport), as well as the stigma that surrounds seeking help.

Since retiring, McCarthy has been working with the Jockeys’ Guild and the Horseracing Integrity and Safety Authority to change the tide. In September he traveled down to the US capital to participate in a panel that was attended by many congressmen and women about this very issue. The goal is to secure funding to hire professionals like nutritionists and sports psychologists that will be made available to any jockey that needs them.

Though mental health has been McCarthy’s focus since retiring, he’s long been a supporter of the Permanently Disabled Jockey Fund, a charity that provides financial assistance to former jockeys that suffered catastrophic on-track injuries. The fact that such an organization exists underscores just how dangerous—and therefore mentally taxing—riding a horse at 40 miles an hour around a track is.

“The jockey colony is a little strange,” McCarthy says. “We’re fighting against each other every day, multiple races a day. It can be very tense in the jockey room. It’s the only sport where your rival comes back to the same locker room as you do. But when things go wrong, we have a brotherhood. If something happens to somebody, we team up and we look out for those guys.”