Depression in Black Communities: An Unspoken Problem

In the African-American community, depression and other mental illnesses tend to go unmentioned. Plenty of articles online map out the gap in care between Black Americans and people of other backgrounds, but far fewer get at why depression stays hidden among us in the first place. Growing up as a minority, I heard older relatives say that Black people don't get depressed, that depression was a white thing. It isn't true. We've long been cast as a strong race of people, and clinicians and researchers keep circling the same observation: Black Americans seek help less often, partly because of the shame attached to admitting something is wrong.

The message I absorbed as a kid was to suck it up and pray. History explains where that comes from. From slavery forward, the instruction during hard times was to stay strong and lean on faith. The trouble is that emotions left unattended have a way of wrecking relationships and wearing down the body.

What frustrates me is how often researchers and psychologists catalog the problems in our community without offering anything that resembles a fix. Call it a soap box if you want, but the stigma won't lift until we admit the problem is real. Depression touches people of every ethnicity, and the specific obstacles that keep Black Americans from reaching out rarely get named.

The usual advice is to talk to someone you trust. But what happens when that person isn't ready to hear you and has no idea what to do with what you've said? That's often the moment you learn who your real friends are. During my own dark stretches I ended up sitting with those feelings alone, because the responses I got were useless. "Why don't you just suck it up." "You're really coming to me with this when there are people in the world so much worse off than you." So how do we turn something unspoken into something we can actually say out loud?

What to do:

1. Build other sources of support. A line I've heard Black people repeat is that you can't understand our pain because you aren't Black. It's one of the stranger things a person can say. Mental illness doesn't check your race at the door. If you want to work your way out of depression and don't have insurance, look for places that offer counseling at no cost, like community support groups.

2. Keep a journal. It doesn't have to be a journal, exactly. Writing is simply a private way to get your thoughts out when there's no one around to talk to. Some people reach for poetry or songwriting; others paint or turn to the performing arts. Find whatever channel lets your feelings out.

3. Go to church. Faith carries real weight in the African-American community, especially in the South. More churches are opening free counseling to members and to the public. Mine runs several ministries covering grief, personal growth, and traumatic experiences. Don't dismiss it. A lot of congregations have at least one licensed professional in the pews who would be glad to sit with you and listen, which makes this a strong option if you have no insurance.

4. Rebuild our community. I'll say it plainly, or write it, rather. We are overdue to start backing one another. Coming together only when discrimination hits isn't enough; we have to hold together the rest of the time too. Instead, a lot of our energy goes into tearing each other down. People carry anger and dysfunction out of what they've lived through. Nobody sets out to deal drugs or to end up in an abusive relationship. Old wounds that never healed push people toward bad decisions. A safe outlet, a safe place to land, changes things.

5. Start your own community. If you doubt whether the people around you will show up for you, go find a different organization or start a support group yourself. Maybe it's something for at-risk youth, a literacy program, or credit counseling. It's a way to build a space where people feel safe enough to open up and trust each other. A little confidence carries further than you'd expect. Just don't sign up for this kind of work only to pad a resume.

- Heather Browning, MBA, BA