I was asked to speak at my agency in honor of Black History Month. The focus was on folks within the mental health system, how that impacts me as a black woman, and how it connects to our history. At first, I wanted no parts of it. Was it performative? Was it just a checkbox for them? But I remembered that my agency had been making strives to be more intentional about equity, not overnight but over a period of time. I decided to use the platform to call out nonsense and celebrate blackness.

I began by talking about the story of Junius Wilson. If you don’t know the story, look it up. It’s traumatizing and powerful. I told my audience to strap in for a heavy NPR video of a man who had been wrongly institutionalized for almost 70 years. 70 years y’all…for being black. I cannot be held responsible for the emotions evoked afterward. I just told the truth and I wanted to share that truth with my Melanated family.

“I first heard about Junius Wilson’s story during a training on Whitewashed Wellness by Shawna Murray-Browne. I was deeply saddened and angered, not only because the system had failed him, but because it was designed to fail him and countless other black people. I was saddened because as much as we’d like to believe otherwise, these systems are still in place. They may have had a face lift, but at their core they are still steeped in racism, ableism, hatred, and supremacy. Systemic racism didn’t just make a debut last year. This is our history.

 We see it every day in our work. Countless disparities rear their heads, from over or misdiagnoses to overpopulating prisons, hospitals, and shelters. It is not a coincidence that the majority of people we serve are black and brown. But what role are we playing? The one size fits all approach clearly does not work. As mental health advocates, it is our responsibility to ensure that we are doing the hard work for those in our care. This means not only educating ourselves, but decolonizing the systems we have relied upon for centuries. ‘We sometimes get stuck in the learning and unpacking phase. But how revolutionary can our work be if we are not galvanizing people to actively dismantle these global systems? It’s time to move from theorizing in our ivory towers to actualizing justice for the safety and well-being of black and other underserved communities.’ 

Black folks have been through entirely too much. We are tired and we are dying. Our culture is not a fashion trend and our skin color is not a crime. The trauma is not our fault, but the healing ends up being our responsibility. Personally, I will never stop fighting. As much as I hate the traumatic experiences we have had to endure and still have to endure, as much as I ache for our suffering and our pain, I unequivocally and unapologetically take pride in being black. I am here to take up space in a white world. I am no longer giving away pieces of myself to make others more comfortable. What you see is what you get. Get on board or move out the way.

 As you think about how to celebrate our blackness beyond 28 days, take a knee and listen up. Our history is American history. ‘Our history is ingenuity and innovation. It is patriotism and the pursuit for integrity.’ The pursuit for happiness and the right for real and true freedom. Being black is about more than racism and injustice, it is about more than our struggle and our resiliency. Being black is powerful. Being black is thrilling. Being Black is rhythmic and beautiful. Being black is community and culture, cultivating wisdom and intelligence. Being black is A WHOLE VIBE! Because black is loveable. Black is funny. Black is juicy and joyful like the pattern of our hair. Black is magical. Black, is awe-inspiring. Do not get it twisted. Black…is literally everything.”