The popularity of self-care approaches to mental health needs has tended to obscure needed discussions on how to care for African Americans who might need professional treatment.Read More
Chandra White-Cummings, Managing Editor
During the years that Barack Obama was President, the statistics regarding numbers of African Americans experiencing mental/emotional and/or psychological distress did not change much. Blacks still report being in serious psychological distress at a rate about 10% greater than non-Hispanic whites. Serious psychological distress is a measurement of likelihood of having a “diagnosable mental illness and associated functional limitations”. The assessment most widely used for this measurement is the Kessler “nonspecific distress scale” and uses six (K6) to ten (K10) questions, each with five possible responses. The K6 has become the preferred version because although it has fewer questions it has proven to be just as reliable as the 10-question version. A score greater than 12 on the K6 scale indicates emotional or mental disturbance that probably warrants attention and treatment. Now that Donald Trump has become President, indications are that those numbers might only increase.
Odds are good that the average African American has never been evaluated with the K6 or K10, or any other official mental health assessment for that matter. But self-disclosures on social media, conversations where black folk have always had them—churches, salons and barbershops, informal get-togethers—and now even books like Benilde Little’s memoir Welcome to my Breakdown reveal that anxiety, depression, Bipolar disorder, and other mental illnesses are things that yes, even Blacks are dealing with. It’s therefore a welcome sign that self-care has exploded as a meaningful and viable form of help for those experiencing challenges to their mental and emotional health. Some types of self-care are mostly feel-good remedies, things like window-shopping, binge-watching a favorite show, or redecorating a room that could use a seasonal refresh. Other types of self-care offer a little more substance and are evidence-based behaviors proven to have longer, more sustained demonstrable effect on brain function and mood. Sleep, exercise, meditation, prayer, and even reading fit this category. Besides being a solid cultural expression of Kujicichagulia, the self-determination principle of Kwanzaa, intentionally practicing self-care is also a self-preserving response to a mental health care system too slow to change, too expensive for many, and too inhospitable to black and brown faces.
The popular narrative has been that African Americans don’t see psychiatrists or other therapists and counselors mainly because they don’t trust the medical profession, stigma shames people into isolation, and treatment is financially out of reach often even for the insured. Not to say that any of those statements is untrue; they just don’t tell the whole story. The distrust of medical practitioners is due in part to a dangerous and deadly history of experimentation and hyper-scrutiny on one hand and outright neglect on the other. Blacks definitely are reticent to admit or discuss mental and emotional problems and still have an irrational fear of being labeled ‘crazy’. And insurance coverage can still leave an insurmountable payment gap for people to close. But a more fundamental problem underlying these issues is access—there aren’t nearly enough black mental healthcare providers to meet the need.
The Bureau of Labor via its Occupational Information Network (O*NET ONLine) service reports the following 2014 employment data for mental health related professions:
Therapists – Marriage & Family 34,000
Counselors – Mental Health (excluding social workers, psychologists, and psychiatrists) 128,200-135,000
Psychologists – Clinical, Counseling, and School 155,000
Mental Health & Substance Abuse Social Workers (Clinical) 118,000
These numbers are not race or gender-specific so then the question becomes how many black mental health practitioners are potentially available to treat African Americans with mental health illness. Not as easy to determine as you might think.
State licensing boards are not permitted and do not collect race information on mental health professionals. Membership in professional groups and associations is better than nothing but even many of the websites for black professionals don’t provide information about how much of the profession is represented by their members, and often not even how many members they have. The National Association for Mental Illness (NAMI) in a fact sheet created as part of its partnership with Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority, indicates that 3.7% of American Psychiatric Association members and 1.5% of American Psychological Association members are African American. Nonetheless, membership in a professional group is a subset of a subset because not all licensed professionals are also members in associations.
There are alternative ways to receive treatment for mental disorders including peer support and other types of support groups, but for those persons who truly require the knowledge and training that is only provided by a licensed mental health professional, where do Blacks go and what is the answer for them? Governmental agencies and policy groups push cultural competence as a solution to close the access gap for blacks seeking treatment. The idea is that while a psychologist may not be black, she can be taught cultural understanding and empathy through specialized education. The Office of Minority Health defines cultural competence as being able to function effectively in a cross-cultural setting taking into account a patient’s language, customs, beliefs, values, and institutions. Part of the established standards of culturally-competent care is that the care be “respectful of and responsive to” those beliefs, practices, and needs. Cultural competence has gained traction in important policy and public health discussions, but enforcement of national standards is challenging. Moreover, the addition of linguistic considerations to the cultural competence model has diverted some of the earlier focus from blacks to language-diverse communities like Hispanics, Filipinos, and other ethnic groups.
The provider shortage and increasing demand might cause more people to reconsider their insistence on ‘buying black’ when it comes to mental health treatment, but it can still be a hard sell to convince African Americans to put their mental health in the hands of someone who doesn’t look like them. Dr. Nekeshia Hammond, principal of Hammond Psychology & Associates, 2017 President of the Florida Psychological Association, and author of The Practical Guide to Raising Emotionally Healthy Children says that cultural competence and same-ethnicity providers are important but “it is not recommended that someone not receive the care they need because there are not enough African-American mental health professionals in your area."
Perhaps arguments similar to those made to Blacks who are hesitant to date or marry non-Blacks; there is something to be said for simply connecting with someone despite differing race or gender. In that regard Dr. Hammond believes, “The reality is that one of the most important factors in a therapist-client relationship is a positive connection”, and she suggests people “look for a therapist who is culturally competent, but also place emphasis on someone you can trust and [with whom you can] feel comfortable discussing your concerns.”
Before access becomes the issue, it’s necessary to understand if professional care is warranted, what type of mental health professional will best meet the individual need and how to find one.
Part two of this series will discuss those issues.
Chandra White-Cummings, Managing Editor
A teenage girl bounds down the steps to her kitchen, assures her mom that she has no time for breakfast but will grab something at school, says she is walking to school with her best friend, heads out the door happy, and vanishes. The police and even school personnel try to characterize her as just a rebellious or flighty runaway. She was actually snatched a block from her home by a sexual trafficker.
This particular scenario is the beginning of a novel by Pamela Samuels Young, Anybody’s Daughter, but similar situations happen daily in real life. Data on child sexual trafficking is complex, not integrated across related issues, and underreported but the following statistics shed light on the problem:
The 2012 United Nations Office on Drugs and Crimes’ Global Report on Trafficking in Persons reported that 6 in 10 survivors had been victims of sexual trafficking.
Girls Educational & Mentoring Services (GEMS), a nonprofit that provides services to teen survivors of commercial sexual exploitation and domestic trafficking, reports that 85% of victims are female, 75% were involved with child welfare services and/or foster care, 70%-90% have a history of sexual abuse, and that in 2015 94% of its clients were girls of color.
Data from the 2015 annual report of The National Human Trafficking Resource Center show that 85% of its calls/contacts related to trafficking of minors involved in sexual exploitation.
As is the case with other issues like missing persons, juvenile justice and reform, and education, sexual exploitation and trafficking of black women and girls is overshadowed by media attention on whites because of racial and gender bias and stereotypes. And as it is with those issues, the black community can’t be content to sit in the shadows while more lives are impacted.
Atlanta attorney Sherri Jefferson is committed to educating the public and raising awareness of the phenomenon she has labeled “urban sex trafficking”, which she defines as “a concept of approaching the experiences of victims of sex trafficking within urban, suburban and rural corridors whose pimps, purchasers and profiteers rely upon and take advantage of metropolitan areas (epicenters or urban centers) to traffic women and children.” Highlighting the plight of African-American and other minority girls and women allows the inclusion of cultural and environmental factors that help people recognize trafficking in inner cities and differentiate it from racially-motivated characterizations that portray sexual exploitation as lifestyle choices and moral deviancy. Gang-affiliated home-based sex parties, exotic dancing and stripping, and music video production are all contexts Jefferson identifies as situations that hide sexual trafficking and exploitation of black females in urban areas. Another entrée into child trafficking is featured in Young’s novel: contact with young girls through ‘relationships’ with fictional people on social media. Vulnerable girls are targeted and approached by men posing as a guy in the target’s age group, sometimes older. The female is groomed by creating emotional attachment and then persuaded to meet the new ‘boyfriend’ away from family and friends. Black and brown girls are especially vulnerable because traffickers pick targets who don’t have a male presence in the home, have been abused/neglected, or are poor and potentially responsive to economic incentives and gifts.
Girls and women subjected to trafficking and exploitation suffer unimaginable physical, mental, and emotional trauma. Being emotionally manipulated then trapped in degradation and made to believe there’s no escape and no one who cares about what’s happening to them, trafficked and exploited women and children who survive and do get out describe the serial rape they endured in shocking yet plain terms. Some describe having to service up to 50 men a day with little rest or food, others report being savagely beaten by especially depraved and violent perpetrators or by pimps and ‘managers’. And for a majority of these girls, their trafficking experiences are simply the latest phase in an ongoing cycle of abuse. Survivors need specialized mental health and social services to heal deep wounds and prepare them for successful living in their communities. There is tremendous need for support, and more organizations are providing resources.
To get involved, get educated. These books and organizations can help.
Girls Like Us: Fighting for a World Where Girls are not for Sale, Rachel Lloyd (Nonfiction)
Anybody’s Daughter, Pamela Samuels Young (Fiction)
GEMS, Girls Educational and Mentoring Services www.gems-girls.org
Sherri Jefferson/ African American Juvenile Justice Project www.sherrijefferson.com
Urban Institute, Justice Policy Center www.urban.org/policy-centers/justice-policy-center
FAIR Girls www.fairgirls.org
Chandra White-Cummings, Managing Editor
Ourselves|Black continues the dialogue with Dr. Monica Coleman about her important new book, Bipolar Faith: A Black Woman’s Journey with Depression and Faith as part of our discussion on faith and mental health. Part 1 is here.
A reliable truism of mental health wisdom is that every issue started somewhere. Often a specific problem is a culmination of traumas, emotional shocks, and profound hurts and losses. Someone close is seriously hurt or dies, a child is molested or attacked, a lover brutally betrays. What happens next reveals the paradox of mental health in the black community: critical and deep-rooted issues, even though they are so familiar, don’t get talked about very much at all. Yes, the events are relived sometimes almost ad nauseum, but the scars and wounds are simply left in plain sight without comment. Over time it becomes clear that just as important as a thing itself is how that thing is handled.
In Bipolar Faith, Dr. Coleman, by sharing both events and how she handled them, provides an honest, daring, and bracing witness for a people who’ve seen plenty of tragedy but need more examples of how to work through the mental and emotional aftermath of what the things leave behind.
Consider what she had to say when I asked her about grief.
OB: I want to talk for a moment about grief. Are we giving grief and the working through of grief enough space in our culture? And if not, do you think that’s contributing to and putting pressure on some of our mental health situations?
Dr. MC: Yes! I think that across the board we try to move on too fast. There is this sense that after deep pain there should be unity, there should be reconciliation , you should get up and go to work. Take one of the most common forms of grief where you lose a loved one. Your elderly parent dies and you take a week off to get business together and funeralize, and then you go back to work. Nobody’s ok! You’re just supposed to go back to life as usual and do whatever it is you were doing before. Even as clergy we do funerals and forget to check in one month, two months, three months later after that period. That’s why I so love the Jewish tradition of sitting shiva. Everything stops for seven days and [they] don’t do anything except sit and be upset. It’s an acknowledgment that that’s all you can do when there’s grief. Sit still and be upset and let people do things for you because that’s what you need . And not that the grief goes away in seven days but acknowledging there’s a season in which you’re immobile is important and makes such a difference emotionally and spiritually and psychologically. We don’t do that as a society and so I think grief just settles in and it becomes painful and difficult for people. And grief can become depression. It can become depression when you’ve been living with the kind of challenging, I-can’t-do-what-I-need-to-do grief.
OB: In talking about grief and how we short-circuit the grieving process, one of the things I’m interested in culturally is the StrongBlackWoman thing, that truncated identity . I can’t tell from the descriptions you give of other women in your life but do you think [seeing that identity lived out] had anything to do with [how you reacted to and processed situations]?
Dr. MC: I think it did in the sense that there’s this [idea] that one has to be strong, the trope that I have to be a strong black woman but also literally you had to be strong because there was no safety net. If you didn’t work, nobody ate, nobody had anywhere to live. My grandmother was a sharecropper, and her husband died when she was very young and she had these two little kids and her. So what’s the option? Some of [the StrongBlackWoman identity] was created by the intersection of poverty and war and slavery so that you don’t feel like you have any options. It’s not like there is this trust fund that I can rely on so that I can just take a six month sabbatical and work things out. You have to work it out while you’re doing other things. … But there’s also this sense that was pervasive for me…that growing up African American, you don’t let them see you sweat. You have to do twice as much to receive half as much. But you don’t want a majority culture to know there’s anything wrong with you. People of color and women feel particularly vulnerable and so you definitely always want to present this image that you’ve got this, that you’re capable. That you are more than capable and confident because you feel like, ‘I’m already operating from a disadvantaged position. For me, that part was a very big factor.
OB: So when you were finally able to get a comprehensible diagnosis (Bipolar II Disorder) that made sense to you, it involved this aspect that you were still able to be very highly productive and functioning. Did that in any way make you feel better?
Dr. MC: No! Because I am highly functioning to other people but not to myself so within my own mind I know all the things I’m not doing and all the things I want to do but can’t do. It has taken years of people telling me this before I believed it because I don’t feel like that. … So to me, I didn’t frame it as strong black woman but I went back and forth between a sense that, I don’t have to be strong—and people close to me could see that—and resisting the image that says I can ask for help when I need it. I oscillated between that for a very long time, for decades.
OB: When we talk about asking for help as a person of faith, part of that is going to be reaching out and reaching up to God for help. So I was drawn by your discussion in the book when you talk about what happened to your relationship with God when things began to happen and as things unraveled a little bit more. What made you not just completely walk away from the faith?
Dr. MC: I often tell people if I wasn’t a minister, if I wasn’t in divinity school, I might have walked away from it. There was something about black church faith that was a part of who I am. It was like brushing my teeth. When I get scared I sing spirituals to myself. I think that was a big part of it, and the asking for help, we’re all kind of conditioned to ask God for help. I tried to ask churches for help and I give examples [in the book]of people who were so unhelpful . But there were also people who were incredibly helpful, who embodied the presence, the grace, the love, and the acceptance of God. Because of those people, it was okay if God and I were falling out because they were there. That’s why it makes such a big difference what we do for people.
OB: What do you think we could do to take better care of each other?
Dr. MC: Women especially are very good at taking care of other people . We’re socialized to take care of other people before we take care of ourselves. Whether you’re a parent or not, this is how women are socialized. Men are okay with operating in the world much more selfishly… If we don’t take good care of ourselves we often do take good care of other people. Perhaps one thing we can do is do that for each other, but as peers. I was often at these smaller churches and even some larger churches that had small groups. ... Sometimes it’s making your larger community into smaller sub-communities. The hard thing is you can’t really force this. You can orchestrate and facilitate but…it happens organically. Sometimes it’s just slowing down and having genuine relationships with people where you want to hear how they’re doing, and you’re willing to be honest with someone else about how you’re really doing. Clearly this won’t be the whole world but most of us only need five or six people like that.
Chandra White-Cummings, Managing Editor
Black folks are making progress with mental health. Yes, there is still stigma but it is slowly being chipped away by cultural and media forces that are gaining momentum and strength with each new moment of public transparency (Kid Cudi, Ricky Williams), each honest and humane depiction of mental illness (The Secret She Kept, Lila & Eve), every Twitter or Facebook chat. Along the winding road of progress though is the intersection of faith and mental health/illness. And even for those individuals who might not practice any faith tradition at all, they still must deal within a culture that is steeped in the Judeo-Christian beliefs of generations. A new book by theologian and ordained minister Dr. Monica Coleman is an invaluable resource for confronting and navigating that inevitable intersection.
The book’s title is itself something of a tour-de-force.
In 10 words, she slings a stone at two Goliaths that have taunted and intimidated the Black community for decades: the thought that faith and any kind of mental disturbance are inherently antithetical, that the presence of one automatically and decisively negates the presence of the other; and the stereotype that Black women—especially Black women—don’t experience depression. This is the kind of book she’s written. It has the potential to break down walls and open up minds, if we let it.
It might be hard for some to truly appreciate the significance of a book like this, but most black women will get it. It’s difficult for a lot of us to admit to having a headache, let alone a serious and periodically debilitating illness like bipolar depression. But Dr. Coleman doesn’t just announce the outcome of her many years of struggle and suffering; she opens the door and invites us in to hear about it firsthand. Reading about how much she loved her grandmother and the imprint this matriarch’s death left on her life is immediately familiar. Unfortunately, equally familiar is sitting with her through the deep pain and disorientation of a shocking sexual assault. Both events were catalysts of her progression into sadness, depression, and ultimately bipolar depression.
The tension many African Americans face when dealing with matters of the mind and expectations tied to how one expresses faith, particularly Christianity, in the world at large, is a significant issue and one that is worth hammering out for oneself in the most authentic way possible. Faith is not something that should just be abandoned but too many take this route when biblical text cannot seemingly be reconciled with life experience. People need to be able to hash out their questions, doubts, and fears within congregational life without judgment, and there has to be an acknowledgment that much of the problem stems from cultural overlays of meaning onto the words of scripture. Dr. Coleman deals with this tension head-on. She talks about some people who were ‘unhelpful’ when she attempted to discuss her situation and find resources and help, including the woman who told her she needed Jesus.
Dr. Coleman and I waded into these deep waters during our recent conversation about her book and the themes it implicates. We started by discussing her thoughts on what churches can and should do to be a resource in the areas of mental health and illness, and faith.
OB: What do you think the church is afraid of when it comes to mental health? Why do you think there’s so much reticence and hesitation to really deal with this issue?
Dr. MC: I think the church’s hesitation reflects the stigma in wider society. The stigma is decreasing but there’s still this stigma about what it means to be crazy; and we still think of mental health and mental illness as people being crazy, and that this is some really bad thing. Something uncontrollable, something unmanageable, and something you should be able to prevent. So some of it is we need more education about mental health. No one thinks [in this way] about diabetes or heart disease but because we can’t see it in the same way…I think that’s where the resistance is. And then I think we have some theology to go along with that; we have some beliefs that further stigmatize mental health. But I don’t think it’s because the church is afraid of it as much as people are very unreflective about what they say. I think a lot of people—even ministers—just say what we’ve heard [rather than] thinking, do I really believe this? So there’s not that there’s a major resistance to mental health more than other issues but perpetuating ideas that we’ve heard that are incredibly painful and unhelpful for people living with mental health issues.
OB: What do you think needs to happen and how do we bridge these divides? People are hurting, and people are walling themselves in and walling themselves off on this issue. Do you think education is the key? Where do we start?
Dr. MC: There are two things I would say. In terms of individuals, most people have figured out that if their church isn’t helpful, they don’t go to that church. They literally either stop attending or whether they’re conscious of it or not they find extra-ecclesiastic resources for [consolation] and healing, be it therapy or music or good friends. They find other ways and other places outside of the church even if their church is important to them and their faith life is important to them , they say, ‘If you’re not going to be helpful to me, then I’ll get my help somewhere else.’ … [H]opefully this book is one place where people can find some help. But in terms of what churches can do, a big part of making a difference in churches is that clergy don’t say certain things that are unhelpful, that clergy talk about mental health like they talk about other health challenges: not as things of sin, things that you can cast out, things that you should be too blessed to have. But talk about mental health in the same way [they talk about other conditions]. I think even very educated, seminary-trained clergy still walk away with the idea that [people need to come to them] as compared to, I could be talking about this as a public health issue, as a societal issue that effects people in my congregation. These are things we should be talking about communally in order to make churches welcoming and safe places.
OB: There was a part in your book where you talked about struggling to find the language for yourself to really understand what you were experiencing and how to talk to other people about it. Why is this important, and what can we tell people about how to do that for themselves?
Dr. MC: [I]n the face of things that are traumatic and painful people lose words, you lose language. You think, that’s that bad thing that happened to somebody else, not me. So you can’t piece together your own experience. That’s where it matters when other folks have a language. So [if] this is one of the things that churches talk about then they have a language that you might see yourself in. [Someone might] read a scripture and you say, ‘Wow that’s how I’m feeling.’ …[P]eople begin to find the language that works for them. It’s also important that we realize there are ways of experiencing God and ways of experiencing the world that are non-linguistic. I talk in the book about how important dance was. Or for some people laying on of hands. We don’t always have to be linguistic. There are other ways we can communicate.
See Part 2 for the continuation and conclusion of my conversation with Dr. Coleman on mental health. We get into grief, the StrongBlackWoman identity, and her thoughts on how taking care of each other can be a saving grace for us all.
Jacquese Armstrong, Survivor Columnist
I recently had a discussion with a college buddy of some 38 years and discovered her newly developed conception of mental illness. She said that the symptoms and nightmarish journey I’ve been through for some 35 years was caused by the devil in my life implying that my walk with God was either non-existent or unknowing, i.e. “unholy.” I was shocked, hurt and angry.
Shocked, because not only is this lady well-educated, but very savvy and well-informed. Hurt, because she was like a sister to me. Angry, because I’ve heard this before and it couldn’t be further from the truth. I told her she had a very simplistic view and that we should agree to disagree.
My diagnosis is schizophrenia bi-polar type and I went through a period of two and a half decades not responding to medication. In this time, voices plagued my mind 24/7 trying to entice me to suicide. I couldn’t distinguish which voice in my head was actually mine until after that period. Paranoia increased to the point that I thought people could read my mind. My moods yo-yo’ed like a busy elevator. Alienated from myself, I prayed to get through every five minute block in terror and tears. Sporadically, I still experience these symptoms.
However, this is not the first time I have received the “unholy” diagnosis. The first time, I received it was from a minister at a prayer meeting at a church my family then attended. I had recently been prescribed lithium for my mood swings. This was at about six years into the illness and it took a portion of the great burden off of my back. The difference was night changing into day. So, I knew I needed the medication that he told me to abandon in exchange for only prayer, insinuating that I didn’t pray hard enough.
This was not only detrimental to my self-image, it sent me on a short span of questioning God’s existence. I mean, surely what a minister said had to have some validity. Yet, I knew without the newly found help, my burden would be greatly increased again. I chose medication.
Then, after much introspection and the passage of time, I found a myriad of reasons why God did exist and that the minister was uninformed and misguided. Unfortunately, some do not reason this way, or question a minister’s pastoral validity. Some are not the rebel I have always thankfully been.
My question is this: Would these people abandon their primary care physicians or refuse treatment for other types of illnesses? Would they not go to a dentist? An optometrist? If the answers were yes, I could see their point as valid and agree to disagree. My walk with God and understanding of Him are different. I can get with that.
But, when the answer is no, I have to put on my teacher’s hat. But, sometimes I wonder if education works.
The brain is connected to the body. As a matter of fact, it regulates bodily functions. A mental illness is just as medical as high blood pressure, cancer, diabetes or any other “medical” illness you can name. My understanding of my illness (and there are others) is that it is a chemical imbalance in the brain that causes the synapses to misfire. They do not receive impulses the way they should. The Mayo Clinic website explains schizophrenia as a combination of genetics, brain chemistry and environment. They say researchers don’t know the significance of these changes, but indicate that schizophrenia is a brain disease.
National Institute of Mental Health’s (NIMH) website identifies that neurotransmitters, dopamine and glutamate, play a role. Neurotransmitters (housed in the synapses of the brain) are substances brain cells use to communicate with each other. They admit that scientists are learning more about schizophrenia and how brain chemistry is related. But, much more research is needed.
However, these assertions still validate my belief, that schizophrenia is indeed an illness, a brain disease.
At 55, with an onset at 20, I have just had a “tune-up” in an acute partial hospital to adjust my medication because my symptoms seemed to be returning. Now once again, I have freedom and my mind is at peace. I thank God for this. I trust Him completely.
In my understanding, God gives us the gift of medically enlightened humans to assist us with our illnesses. Why would he waste a miracle on something that can be handled on earth? As for the “unholy” diagnoses, I just smile and keep walking with my head held high. You can’t change some minds, but you don’t have to let them interfere with your self-esteem. God is good and I feel that I am blessed.
I am not the only one to have a hard journey—illness or no illness. The trick for me is to learn, teach and inspire. Mahalia Jackson used to sing, “If I can help somebody as I pass along… Then my living will not be in vain.” I hope that I qualify for the list of those who have accomplished this feat.
Chandra White-Cummings, Managing Editor
Venida Browder died on Friday, October 14, 2016 at a Bronx hispital. The reported cause of death is complications from a heart attack. Maybe the reality is that she died from complications. Sixteen months earlier her son Kalief Browder died by suicide from hanging. Three years earlier, he had been released from Rikers Island prison where he spent 400 of 1,000 days incarcerated in solitary confinement. Three years before that, he was arrested on suspicion of stealing a backpack. Venida Browder’s 63 years of life were undoubtedly about more than her son’s sickening ordeal, but her death was almost certainly about the heart-stopping grief she endured because of Kalief’s time in prison and his death.
Grief as a painful historical trajectory is one thing; to grieve intensely in the misery of the present moment is another. Joy James, professor at Williams College, interviewed by George Yancey for the New York Times Opinionator blog, December 23, 2014
Grief has been a steady companion in the black American community since the first slaves landed in Jamestown. Even the national song of the culture is a mix of determined hope and acknowledged grief:
We have come over a way that with tears has been watered,
We have come treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,
Out from the gloomy past, till now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast. Lift Every Voice and Sing
But how are both collective and individual grief being dealt with? Does the journey follow the traditional stages outlined by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross in her seminal work, On Death and Dying, or has a different model emerged that reflects the advent of social media and virtual communication? And how does grief differ from and relate to traumatic stress and other forms of mental and emotional pressure faced by African Americans? Urban poverty, mass incarceration beginning with school-to-prison pipelines, community and domestic violence, chronic illness, and racism exert an internal force on the minds and bodies of black Americans that cannot be ignored and absolutely should be intentionally addressed. We need productive, healing ways to process the grief borne by countless women, men, and children who are struggling every day to function.
Perhaps a meaningful step is to simply allow people to grieve. That suggestion sounds obvious, but the truth is that there is still too much cultural baggage around letting people express their profound sadness and sense of loss when traumatic things happen. Black women, living through the StrongBlackWoman stereotyped identity, have become especially expert at masking, suppressing, and neglecting the grieving process, and teaching our families to do the same. Black movies have provided some interesting portrayals of women who have short-circuited their emotional development by not giving themselves permission to appropriately grieve loss. A pivotal scene in the 2009 Bill Duke film, Not Easily Broken, shows a confrontation between Clarice (Taraji Henson) and her mother (Jennifer Lewis) in which Clarice challenges how her mother handled the end of her marriage to Clarice’s father. It is revealed that there were things occurring in the marriage that the daughter wasn’t aware of, but Clarice points out that holding on to her hurt and anger has made her mother bitter and hard. She realizes that she has unintentionally adopted some of her mother’s emotional strategies, and she sees the negative effect it’s had on her own marriage.
It’s quite possible that the mother never felt free to express how she really felt about her situation. Crying, yelling, breaking things, and even silence should be accepted as valid ways of dealing with intense grief. Outward expression is a critical release valve that clears the mind and heart to make room for healing thoughts and words.
Many of the experiences of Black people, whether they be personal or community based, cause us actual grief. We are constantly grieving the lives of people we do or do not know and the possibility of it being us. We have to provide space for ourselves and other Black folks to express that grief, no matter how it takes form. We have to remind ourselves that folks can be angry, afraid, and/or sad. These feelings and others are not mutually exclusive. We have every right to be angry and we shouldn’t police others who are angry. Black rage is real and should be validated in the ways that emotions that mirror sadness and/or fear would be. Quita Tinsley, Healing in the Midst of Tragedy: How Can Black Folks Keep Surviving in the Face of Constant Trauma? October 13, 2015
Having ways to process grief—besides eating or not eating—is important also. Knowing how to form a workable and healing perspective around one’s emotions and how to make good decisions are key emotional skills that help people move in a healthy way through grief. For the black community, for whom grief is not typically episodic but chronic, these types of skills are especially critical. The persistent and ongoing recurrence of racially-motivated killings and escalating rates of debilitating illness are occurrences that leave many struggling to mentally keep pace with the succession of events in their lives and the lives of others in the black culture. Mental health professionals and others trained in counseling, emotional intelligence, application of spiritual faith principles, and other “soft sciences” and healing arts are needed to develop models and approaches that can be peer taught, person to person, family to family. This is the only way forward, for us and our children.
Chandra White-Cummings, Managing Editor
What does it take for a man to openly discuss his personal issues? What kind of courage is required when a young black man with a global following announces to the world that he is losing his battle with mental and emotional issues and is seeking help? Scott Mescudi aka Kid Cudi has what it takes and is that kind of man.
On the evening of Tuesday, October 5, the genre-defying musical artist and emerging actor Kid Cudi posted on Facebook that he had the night before checked himself into a rehab facility to be treated for depression and suicidal urges. Naturally the post quickly went viral, and his fans responded with words of support and encouragement. And it wasn’t long before a coordinated social media response emerged. The hashtag campaign #YouGoodMan became an open space for mainly black men to talk about mental and emotional health however they want to. Some expressed admiration for Cudi’s revelation; others took the opportunity to admit their own struggles with depression or anxiety. There were also those who challenged the stubborn stigma against even having conversations about mental illness and health insurance the black community.
The public dialogue sparked by Kid’s situation is all good, including reminders that other hip hop artists have penned lyrics about depression, suicide, and other mental health topics. Before the hype dies down, it’s a good time to chart a course of action to sustain the momentum created by his transparency and move toward care. Kid Cudi’s entire mental health path is worth noting and emulating as black men and those who love them take their own journeys to wholeness and wellness.
Recognizing a problem is the first step. The importance of recognition is why education is vital. Black men and boys need information about what depression is and how it might show up in their lives. A BlackDoctor.org article explains that signs and symptoms of depression are basically similar between men and women, but men—especially black men—are likely to complain more of physical symptoms rather than emotional or behavioral ones. Headaches, changes in appetite, muscle tension, and stomach issues are commonly reported by men rather than persistent sadness, moodiness, or irritability. If men don’t recognize as depression their deep and abiding anger or their gradual disinterest in activities previously enjoyed, they probably won’t ever address it as a mental health issue.
It’s necessary for black men to acknowledge that what they see applies to their life and not just other people. Owning the sadness, the self-harming behaviors, substance abuse, and loneliness is perhaps one of the most extraordinary aspects of Kid Cudi’s Facebook post. This post wasn’t the first time he spoke about his feelings and state of mind though. His fans know well from his music that he often mentions being sad or unable to cope with his life. In the song Confused, from the 2015 album ‘Speedin Bullet to Heaven’, he says:
I always end up back in a cycle of shame, Looking in the mirror is hard
Some days I hurt myself to distract me from distraction
That’s madness fixing sadness
Some artists call others out in their music, ridiculing a rival’s rap game or mocking their lifestyle. But the key to health is being able and willing to do what Cudi says is hard to do: look in the mirror. Recognizing signs of anxiety or depression in someone else’s life isn’t enough. A man must go the next step and turn the lights on himself by acknowledging his own issues.
Seeking professional help and treatment increases the likelihood of recovery and sustained wellness. Distrust of the medical establishment among African Americans is legendary. Along with cultural messages about relating to the police, how to behave in church, and proper conduct when visiting others’ homes, gatekeepers and the curators of black tradition educate generations about the history of medical misconduct against blacks and the catastrophic results. Not trusting doctors, especially ones “trying to get in your head” is an understood cultural reality. The integration of medicine, social services, and law enforcement—intended to be a benefit—further complicates help-seeking decision making because fathers might fear having children removed from his care by social services because he seeks help for a depression or anxiery.
But at this point in the cultural history of blacks, men and women must fight for health. The same intensity being brought to bear on police forces, school systems, and the criminal justice system must also be applied to the mental health infrastructure in this country. The community’s fear of being exploited and oppressed by the medical system is often justified and should be channeled into compelling the powers that be to remove the reasons for the fear. Furthermore, the dialogue within black families and social circles must change. Every man who tweeted as part of the #YouGoodMan campaign should take their comments and perspective into family dinner discussions, onto the basketball court, into the barbershop, and any other gathering places where men and boys open up to each other. And getting treatment for mental or emotional problems has to become part of those conversations for maximum impact and best outcome.
When it’s all said and done, Kid Cudi’s bold action seems to be borne out of an endearing love affair: between him and his fans and his love and care for himself. The final words of his Facebook post read like a repentant but committed lover’s promise to get better:
I feel like sh*t, I feel so ashamed. I’m sorry. I love you.
To him and other black men and boys like him, we say:
Shed your shame. You will get better. We love you back.
Adia Harris, Contributing Writer
Throughout the past month, Ourselves|Black has covered a range of mental health related topics as they concern academic success. We recently had the opportunity to speak with Richard Taylor, Jr., a mental health leader and advocate who continuously shares his own stories as a young black man from the Southside of Chicago who grappled with his own mental health struggles and resurfaced with impactful lessons learned. In this interview, he candidly shares mental trials and triumphs that took place during his own academic career.
OB: Given stories that you’ve shared about your life, you undoubtedly moved through instances of mental and emotional upheaval. Can you recall what first sparked the realization that your mental and emotional health was something of significance?
RT: It was after my final suicide attempt in college, but it wasn’t immediately after. It was more over the course of the next few years. I saw that it represented the destructive lifestyle that I had allowed myself to become entangled with. It was an investment I was kind of forced to make because after it happened, the college I went to stipulated that I stay off probation for two years and I was required to see a school psychologist. It was during that time of working with the psychologist that I was like ‘dude, your mental health is actually really important!’ I also think it was because of my transformation from it. It’s one thing to invest your time, it’s another thing when you actually see results.
OB: In your book Unashamed, you catalog several external events that occurred in high school that took a toll on you, from being bullied because of your weight to finding out you had a health condition that would prevent you from pursuing a football career before you even graduated. How’d you cope with these obstacles mentally, and what emotional support did you feel was available to you during this time in your life?
RT: I didn’t cope. I didn’t cope positively. Those questions go hand and hand, because I felt like I was alone in the battle. In my book, Love Between the Scars, I talk a lot about the stigma plagued around mental health that caused me to want to keep my mouth shut when it came to dealing with the anger, depression and rage that I felt, which led to a suicidal lifestyle.
I was actually bullied in grammar school. In high school, I became the bully to a certain degree because everything had changed as far as my appearance and what I was doing. But I ended up falling flat on my face once I couldn’t play ball anymore. The circles I was running with weren’t around anymore, and everything kind of spiraled out of control. I allowed it to, being so conditioned that mental health wasn’t something I was allowed to speak to because I’m black. I felt like an outcast, dealing with something black people don’t deal with and my coping mechanisms literally became the very things that presented themselves as struggles early on, starting with self-mutilation and leading all the way up to attempting suicide.
OB: Looking back do you believe there were resources that should have been there, that just were not?
RT: It’s really more that it just wasn’t talked about. In my family, it was something that weak people or only white people deal with. I thought, well I’m black, so clearly I just need to strap up my boots and keep it moving because there is nothing I can do about this. I always feel there could have been better resources, specifically in the public school system, that aren’t. But not only were they not there, the awareness of the issues wasn’t there. That’s one reason why I didn’t know what was possible. Schools may have x, y and z, but at the same time they aren’t making them known. Schools can spend hours talking about sports teams and school pride but may only spend five minutes on those kinds of issues.
OB: Did you ever feel that you had to choose between your emotional well being and your academic advancement in school? Why or why not?
RT: It wasn’t like I felt I had to choose between the two. I was in such a dark space that I didn’t even care about my emotional well being. I got to a place where I felt either way I’m a failure and I was flopping on both sides; 1.4, 1.6 and 1.8 were my GPAs my first three semesters in college and my grades were a direct depiction of exactly what I was going through internally.
OB: What is a mental/emotional pitfall you believe students should be aware of in their academic life?
RT: [Not] being aware of their environment and what they choose to take in from that environment. I talk about this a lot in my second book, about ‘starving the beast’. I feel a part of the awareness is that we invite certain things in. We always talk about you accept what you allow and I feel that’s what happens unfortunately. We begin to accept whatever comes into our space and allow it to unfold in our lives.
OB: Is there an experience that you can recall where you had to make a conscious decision of what you would not allow in your space?
RT: Many! (laughs) But I’m thinking of when I got back to [college] and I was on probation, on the verge of being kicked out. That next semester was like do or die. That being the case, I got into a space of realizing I can’t keep doing the same thing if I want to be successful. It [caused] me to have an understanding of what destruction looked like and the times when productivity was actually taking place and then expound on that.
OB: Can you share an effective strategy that you were able to use to maintain balance between your mental well being and academic success?
RT: I think what it boils down to is that it’s one thing to just acknowledge [problems], but it’s another to instill an application around it. It wasn’t just being aware of things that made me feel a certain way like the stress from classes or working while in school, sometimes it was even the feeling of being inadequate because I didn’t think I was as properly prepared compared to some of my colleagues when it came to the schooling they’d had. I’d feel like I was stupid and that I didn’t belong. So beyond just acknowledging the thoughts and feelings I was having, I had to know and understand them to apply better alternatives. It’s so easy to drop down in GPA and score wise, but it is super hard to climb that ladder to get back up. I was struggling to just get back to the borderline and it was a battle in itself. I had to really start applying alternatives to the very things that were eating me up.
OB: A common theme found in your work is dealing with emotional wounds in order to grow and move forward. What advice would you give students in helping them to identify what might be holding them back mentally?
RT: I think when it comes to identifying [emotional wounds] you have to be open to all possibilities, because a lot of times we shun all things that have to do with the intrapersonal. The concept of ‘starving the beast’ is that most of the time the ‘beast’, the very thing we deal with, is us. We look to externally blame it on other things, but we can’t turn a blind eye to our own habits and lifestyle. You have to be real with yourself, and during that time you have to avoid condemnation by understanding that you made a mistake but it doesn’t determine the rest of your life. You are worth more than the sum of your past mistakes, which means you still have a chance to get it right. By avoiding condemnation, I always encourage people to let their layers peel back because we are not one-dimensional. We may find more ugly truths about ourselves, so you do have to be careful about not running back to your old ways, but see them as the truth of what you’ve done, not the truth of where you’re going.
OB: Last question, you are a big advocate of TRiO, a federal outreach program that provides student support services. How was that program beneficial to you, and are there any other resources that you would recommend to students?
RT: TRiO was literally something that saved my life. It just so happened one of the program employees saw my story and reached out to me. He introduced me to the program and got me around the right people and resources. The stories of so many mentors and students with the program in colleges and high schools across the country all have some kind of trial and tribulation that led to their triumph. It’s an amazing resource because it provides a chance to see your life and what it could be in action, and I’m a firm believer that behavior changes with belief.
As far as other resources, there are always extracurriculars on campus, but in a deeper context it’s realizing support groups are there. A lot of fraternities, sororities and other groups are becoming more conscious. The same way organizations might provide study tables for athletes; they have started to provide the same kind of checks for wellness. It’s really about being around the right circles - not just in mainstay groups - that can provide the most impact in your life. Another outlet for me was being in the gospel choir in college. I remember individuals not involved in the choir at all would come just to listen to the music because it lifted their spirits and helped them through. It’s amazing where you can find your help when you are open-minded.
Richard Taylor is a motivational speaker who has published three books sharing inspirational messages through his own story. To find out more about him and his work, visit unashamednation.com
Even with anti-bullying legislation, criminalization of behavior too recently viewed as a schoolhouse rite of passage often creates more controversy than impactful change. Most schools nationwide have anti-bullying programs, but only eight percent of implemented programs are evidence-based and rarely incorporate metrics for success.Read More
Students and school administrators are collaborating to come up with solutions to stop bullying in its tracks. These institutions aren’t just disciplining the bully, they’re putting systems in place that support victims of bullying as well.Read More
Chandra White-Cummings, Managing Editor
School is for young people what work is for adults. Kids spend six and a half to eight hours for five days a week with the same teachers, administration, friends, and enemies. For millions of these students, it’s a living hell on earth. For them, new clothes and school gear doesn’t erase the fear and dread they feel at the prospect of spending the next nine months of their lives getting pushed or stuffed into lockers, teased and ridiculed, threatened and intimidated, jumped in the bathroom, having books and notebooks damaged or thrown, or socially isolated and ignored. If we really consider all that these kids endure and the fact that they must face it every day, it’s a wonder we tolerate it to the extent we do.
Bullying is a tough and complicated problem. Administrators face the hard task of monitoring behavior of a group that as it gets older becomes increasingly more crafty and skilled at hiding behavior and intent. Cultural and generational differences in views on what constitutes bullying, the right time to intervene in the social goings on between kids, and the appropriate consequences after intervention add difficulty to the issue. But if you’ve ever looked into the eyes of a child whose soul has been picked apart by their peers, or seen a child swinging from a rope or sheet when they couldn’t take it anymore, or called 911 for a kid whose face is unrecognizable because a group kicked and punched him within an inch of his life, then you know that we must do whatever it takes to stop this madness. Whatever it takes.
As a young girl, I loved learning. But I often didn’t like school. Learning was exciting, invigorating, and empowering. School was draining and unpredictable. I felt tense, self-conscious and vulnerable. And even though things didn’t start out that way, they became that way early on. I knew how to read when I started kindergarten so when I entered first grade, it wasn’t long before my mom and the teacher realized I might benefit from more academic challenge. The first intervention was to place me in an accelerated reading group of older students. That’s when my school life changed. The black kids—the ones who I thought had been my friends—became hostile and distant. I became the object of teasing and mean-spirited joking. Looking back I now understand that this was the point at which I started to doubt myself. And here is the most consequential thing about being bullied. It causes a young person to ask the deadliest questions: what’s wrong with me? and what did I do wrong? Instead of feeling powerful and confident, I felt powerless and confused .
Feelings of powerlessness intensify bullying. Every player in the scenario feels trapped in some way. The victim feels isolated from help (what can my parents really do, they’re not here with me all day); parents feel left with unsatisfactory options (we can’t just take X out of school—we work and homeschooling isn’t feasible); teachers and administrators feel hamstrung by time constraints and insufficient resources (we can't address every single negative or hurtful interaction between students, not enough resources to implement solutions that would get to the root of the problem). The result is students and parents who feel trapped and angry. My parents were as involved and engaged as any parents could be but it was difficult for them to completely counteract the damage being done to my psyche and internal sense of security. The ongoing rejection and intentional singling out for uncharitable scrutiny shattered me.
Even though I experienced depression regularly, the love of my parents and the faith imparted to me by my family and church community buffered my negative school experiences. This foundation of support prepared me to help my son when it became evident that he was traveling a similar path at school to the one I endured many years earlier.
The emotional life of a black teenage boy is a hard nut to crack. When he was in middle school he seemed fine at first. By all indications he had friends, and I never saw any signs that he wanted to avoid school or certain people. But honestly I didn’t know how to read those more subtle signs of trouble. One night the levee broke. Our conversation started with one subject but eventually turned in a completely different direction. He admitted through tears that all was not well. He was being teased, left out of most social circles, and one boy in particular was hiding his backpack almost every day after school and then being physically aggressive when he tried to find it. At that point I confess I made a tactical and relational error. By suggesting to him that maybe he came across as “needy” and too eager for friendship, I unintentionally fell into a common trap. I assaulted his already fragile ego and identity by reinforcing his deepest fear: people’s reactions to him were his fault.
That night began a difficult journey through the rest of middle school and then high school. Despite my fervent efforts I still watched my previously fun-loving and emotionally open son become angry, tense, aggressive, and hard. A month or so after his high school graduation he agreed that he was depressed and that the accumulation of things that happened in school were taking their toll. But thankfully the same way that family love and support, and a strong faith upbringing anchored me, they have so anchored him. He still is not quite the same as before but I can see the light in his eyes again most days. We walk, we struggle, we prevail as a family, and I suspect our legacy of fighting for mental and emotional health and wellness will be a stronghold of inspiration for his children and their children to come.
Another school year has begun. Amid the long days of homework and extracurricular activities, take time to look into your child’s/students’ eyes, practice an over abundance of verbal and physical love and affection, establish early and reestablish often your commitment to your kid. No matter what, and no matter who, fight, fight, fight for your sons and daughters. The dangers of under reacting are far greater than those of over reacting. So at the first sign of…something…take action. School must become again a place of true learning and uplift for every student.
If you need help dealing with a bullying situation or just want to be prepared in case you need it, check out resources like The Bully Project which includes an informative guide for parents—The Parent Action Toolkit.
Brittany King, Contributing Writer
Most people have a list of things they consider before they start dating someone. Height preferences, hobbies they want their partner to enjoy with them, etc. This is generally based on past dating experiences or personal preference. But when a potential partner has a mental illness, there are a few other things to consider. T Henderson*, a mental health therapist on the east coast shared her tips on what to think about before entering a relationship.
First, it is important to remember that everyone comes into a relationship with their own set of baggage. People who have a mental illness and those who do not experience situations in life that have shaped their current reality. Henderson says understanding what you can realistically handle in a relationship is a good first step. That way you can set expectations early on, rather than a few months down the line, causing less conflict.
“Mental illness can bring pretty heavy baggage if it's not being handled correctly,” Henderson says. “If [your potential partner] is not getting treatment for their [sic] illness, run for the hills! Any illness left untreated is bound to get worse.”
While it is helpful to suggest treatment and show support while your partner is seeking treatment, you cannot coerce him to get it. Giving an ultimatum or forcing help-seeking may seem like a good idea, but it usually ends with the person abandoning a program for which there was never buy-in or ownership.
Second, Henderson believes it is important to get educated on the mental illness the significant other has rather than relying on stereotypes. Education can give insight on the struggles people with that particular disorder might deal with. For example, paying attention to whether your partner shows certain symptoms before having an episode will teach you how to provide support through any future episodes. It’s also important to separate your man or lady from the illness. A person is not their illness, they are a human being with an illness and they need to be given the opportunity to take control of it, rather than relying on you.
“It's very easy to fall into the role of being the caretaker, which can cause the relationship to feel like a parent-child one,” Henderson says. “People living with mental illness are responsible for managing it, and shouldn't expect their significant other to do that for them.”
According to Psych Central, self-care is a big part of dating someone with a mental illness as well. Knowing when to take a break and spend time by yourself or with your friends can help drastically, especially if you’re starting to feel like a parent in the relationship rather than a partner.
If you are the person with a mental illness looking to date, Henderson has advice for you as well; mainly, tell your partner about your illness. Being open and honest, even when it’s difficult, is an important pillar of all relationships, especially intimate ones. When it comes to discussing your mental illness for the first time, Henderson believes that there is no hard and fast rule to follow.
“Some people feel a little more comfortable just getting it out of the way early on,” she says. “I think it's best to gauge the direction the relationship is going. If things are getting serious, it's best to be honest about it rather than leave a person feeling blindsided later on.”
At the end of the day, while physical attraction is important, feeling safe and being able to trust your partner is what will make a relationship last. If a person with mental health issues feels that she cannot be herself around you, or he begins to treat you as a crutch, that’s a problem.
Be honest and open when dating; don’t put too much pressure on yourself or the other person. Lastly, Henderson says if you decide to enter a relationship with someone living with mental illness, be supportive without doing everything for that person. Take care of yourself too, you can't neglect your own well-being in order to save someone else's.
*The name has been changed for privacy considerations
While men are taught to be emotionally autonomous, women are socialized to seek emotional connection. This leads to one of the most common dynamics seen in couples with communication issues: the Pursuer-Distancer Dynamic.Read More
Given the pervasiveness of societal and cultural standards of motherhood, being physically absent from the life of your child is arguably one of the greatest punishments and psychologically traumatizing experiences for an incarcerated mother.Read More
Do you struggle with extreme anxiety? The Teachman PACT lab at the University of Virginia is looking for adults (age 18 and older) who struggle with anxiety symptoms to enroll in a new, computer-based anxiety-reduction program. We are recruiting participants to help us learn how we can help individuals combat anxiety via online training.
To determine your eligibility for the study, visit https://mindtrails.virginia.edu and click on “Am I Eligible?”
The study involves 8 sessions (over the course of 4 weeks), each lasting 20 minutes or less, as well as four 15-minute assessments during the intervention and one 15-minute assessment 2 months later.
All training sessions and assessments can be completed on the computer.
For more information please visit https://mindtrails.virginia.edu or Contact:
Department of Psychology, University of Virginia
Phone: +1 434-243-7646
Principal Investigator: Bethany Teachman, Ph.D.
Chandra White-Cummings, Managing Editor
A recent episode of the OWN network reality docudrama Flex and Shanice--which chronicles episodes in the lives of actor Flex Alexander and his wife Shanice, an R & B music artist--included a story line about their pre-teen son being bullied by kids from his school. Flex first notices a problem when his son comes home from school one day and is withdrawn, refusing to engage in normal banter and conversation with his father. Ultimately, they decide to see a therapist as a family to help each and all of them cope with the anxiety and sadness of having to experience this reality. This dramatic slice of life from a black celebrity family reflects the intense challenges parents face daily. Any parent watching this episode would feel assured to know that they are not alone in their struggles to raise successful, stable, and healthy children. But life in the parental trenches requires actionable strategies and accessible resources to positively impact a child’s life for the long haul. A new book by psychologist Dr. Nakeshia Hammond might help.
The most noteworthy aspect of this book is that it specifically focuses on emotional (and sporadically, mental) health. There is no shortage of books and advice for parents on how to raise physically healthy children. First Lady Michelle Obama’s Let’s Move campaign targeting reduction in obesity rates among children has, by all accounts, been a solid success. Mothers are instructed on the physical benefits of breastfeeding, and there are organic baby and toddler food brands with devoted followers who insist on ‘the best’ foods to ensure their child’s growth and development. Far less advice, support, and resources are focused on parenting behaviors and approaches that yield mentally and emotionally healthy kids.
Dr. Hammond is clear about what she hopes to accomplish with her book. In the introduction she states her goals: ease the burden on parents and encourage them; provide practical strategies; and suggest resources. Parents looking for an easy-to-read, intellectually accessible resource will benefit from the concrete suggestions offered. And often the suggestions are complimented by real-life scenarios that provide context in which to apply the suggestions she gives. In Chapter 2—How Can We Listen?, she begins by giving scenarios that involve a child experiencing a problem that should be communicated to the parent but the parent’s incorrect approach to listening hinders the process. She then points out specific behaviors parents should be aware of: lecturing instead of letting a child develop his own conclusion; interrupting; distraction and divided attention; and showing visible discomfort with what a child is saying. Next comes tips on ways to listen that will enhance, rather than hinder communication with children, especially related to delicate and sensitive topics kids might already be reluctant to discuss. The approach comes full circle by restating the earlier scenarios replacing the unhelpful behaviors with active listening skills. This is the kind of information so many parents seek as they do their best to help their children develop strong minds and hearts.
Some parents and caregivers might have benefitted from more detailed information about what behaviors and characteristics constitute mental and emotional health. There are places in the book that mention qualities like taking responsibility for one’s actions and not shifting blame, being able to make one’s own decisions, and not comparing one’s life to others’ lives in a way that produces envy and resentment; nonetheless an explicit identification of recognized mental and emotional health markers would have enhanced the book’s presentation.
Something else worth noting: though Dr. Hammond is African American, the book is not specifically targeted to black parents and children. In some ways, this might leave black parents wanting more because there are intense issues surrounding black parenting right now, and that particularly relate to the mental and emotional health of black children, that many parents would have liked to see addressed. How to keep a positive outlook on one’s ethnic heritage when it is under attack, providing safe outlets for young people to discuss fears related to their navigation of this world as black people, and additional strategies and resources for those raising African-American kids are a few topics that would have been a great addition to the book’s content.
Over 128 sources are listed at the end of the book as ones Dr. Hammond used in writing the book. Many of them are government-sponsored websites or other resources, but the list also includes nonprofits and corporate entities’ websites and can function as a valuable reference to which parents can turn as needed for information related to the topic of each chapter.
Dr. Nekeshia Hammond’s book can be purchased at major book retailers and online: