Black History Month
Writing about Black History Month as a White woman is a daunting task. How do I use my privilege and position to talk about the struggles of Black people and honor their significant contributions to the fields of psychology and therapy? First, it is important to acknowledge that as a White woman, the privilege I was born into means I will never fully understand what it is like to live as a Black person in our country. Because of this, I will likely make mistakes as I strive to engage in empathy and understanding. I invite others to correct me or point out when I am blinded by my privilege. That said, it is also my responsibility to be informed. It is absolutely not the responsibility of my clients, friends, or colleagues to educate me. As a licensed professional, I am literally responsible for seeking out education and resources pertaining to multicultural competency as a requirement for my licensure. With that in mind, I want to highlight a few lessons I have learned from Black voices.
Audre Lorde was a feminist during the second wave of feminism and a lesbian who often spoke about the challenges faced by queer women in America. In a letter she wrote to the author of Gyn/Ecology in May 1979, she expressed her frustration in attempting to teach White women about racism: “I had decided never again to speak to White women about racism. I felt it was wasted energy because of destructive guilt and defensiveness, and because whatever I had to say might better be said by White women to one another at far less emotional cost to the speaker, and probably with better hearing.” Throughout my career, I have been reminded in many ways that if I want to be an advocate and ally, I must know how to use my privilege appropriately. One way is by speaking up about how racism manifests at both micro and macro levels.
Black people face unique challenges when it comes to mental health. They are less likely to have access to healthcare and less likely to seek out services. When they do seek care, they are less likely to receive appropriate help, accurate diagnoses, or sufficient care. Black individuals are overrepresented in schizophrenia diagnoses and underrepresented in diagnoses for neurodivergence and PTSD. As mental health professionals, it is our responsibility to be aware of these disparities. Our work is to understand how cultural differences and histories of trauma and abuse impact psychological well-being. As an advocate for my minority clients and an ally of movements like Black Lives Matter, I strive to remain aware of these issues and know how to speak to others about them.
Luvvie Ajayi Jones, a Nigerian American writer, spoke in her TED Talk about being a “professional troublemaker.” She offered a simple guide for having difficult conversations. I have used and taught her questions countless times. She suggests asking yourself three questions before saying difficult things or having uncomfortable conversations: Did you mean it? Can you defend it? Did you say it with love? These three questions provide a brilliant starting point for open conversations that foster deeper understanding, appreciation, and care.
Generational trauma is another area gaining increasing attention in the mental health field. Everyone carries trauma passed down through family systems, both behaviorally and genetically. Resmaa Menakem, a leader in psychotherapy, frequently addresses generational trauma. He says, “The answer to why so many of us have difficulties is because our ancestors spent centuries here under unrelentingly brutal conditions. Generation after generation, our bodies stored trauma and intense survival energy and passed these on to our children and grandchildren.” Understanding that everyone carries inherited trauma is imperative for mental health providers. This understanding also requires us to be curious. While I can read and learn about systems of oppression affecting my Black clients, it is just as important to be curious about their individual experiences—their personal history, family, and lineage.
Menakem also emphasized this point when he said, “Trauma in a person, decontextualized over time, looks like personality. Trauma in a family, decontextualized over time, looks like family traits. Trauma in a people, decontextualized over time, looks like culture.” Context matters, and curiosity helps us gain that context.
So, how do we, as White people in a field where Whiteness is overrepresented, build context so we can be more multiculturally informed? Seek out Black creators in all the places you consume content. Read poetry from people who look different from you. Listen to music and seek art from artists of all backgrounds and cultures. Follow Black creators on social media. Most importantly, be quiet and curious. By “be quiet,” I mean don’t take up space that isn’t meant for you. As White people, we have privilege and often take up more space than necessary. If a space is specific to Black individuals, be quiet and curious.
One blogger, Flavia Dzodan, famously wrote, “My feminism will be intersectional or it will be bullshit.” I am repeatedly reminded that my privilege often blinds me to the struggles of those less privileged than I am. Being quiet and curious when people speak and write about their experiences, which differ from my own, helps me remember that being an intersectional feminist means doing the work of diversity, equity, and inclusion for everyone.
Happy Black History Month!
