In my skull sits an organ that’s only 3 pounds. That organ is the most complex creation in the known universe. Others like it have worked diligently to understand the world surrounding them; each wrapped in its own individual, but similar, bone, flesh, and skin. The skin above mine is brown like bronze, like many of the people in my community. Our three-pound-universal-miracles that we affectionately call a “dome,” others a brain, have been ignored. By the medical world, by our governments, even by our own parents. Mental health in communities is like the opposite of black matter in the universe. We know black matter must exist, but we have no idea what effects it might have on our universe. Mental health in my community is treated like it doesn’t exist, but we all suffer and know it’s effect quite well. As a brain fascinated by brains, in my community it feels like if you’re wrapped in the beautiful black that wraps the universe, you don’t matter.
Getting help for mental health issues in marginalized communities is difficult for many reasons. Socially, harmful stereotypes of masculinity and femininity are often exacerbated when it comes to people of color. Men must be twice as “manly” to overcome societal challenges, and women must be supporters of those men while also being supporters of themselves and their families. Economically, it is more difficult to afford healthcare in general, and when mental health is treated as a secondary priority, it is put off altogether. This does not account for the fact that many individuals are also working more than standard work weeks to provide for their families, leaving no time for mental health care. Overall, not many resources exist to solve these issues because not many people from marginalized communities enter the mental health field.
I am a living testimony of every single one of these variables. Like others in my community, I have been ignored. But I’m not the easiest to deter. I have always had an inquisitive mind. I grew up obsessed with anything to do with science. I wanted to know the nature of everything I could see, and then everything I couldn’t. The latter led to my passion for psychology, and my deep care for the people around me. Just like I can’t see the mental processes that define the patterns of human behavior, I also cannot directly see racism. But through empirical study I can learn that short term memory is divided into several stores to perceive the world around me, and I can learn that there are social, political, and economic factors that have marginalized so many people like me.
In the three-pound mass of grey matter sitting in my skull is an unbridled desire to be a part of the solution to a problem that plagues my community. At the age of 16 I decided I would stay in school until I was 26 to pursue a PhD in Clinical Psychology. Despite having never in my life met another black person who shared the same career that I aspired to achieve, I decided to be the change. If I could show even one kid that it was even a possibility to become part of a solution that plagues the entire world. One that nobody in his community wants to talk about. If I could be the person that just one person could look up to, someone that I didn’t have, I believe I will have made a meaningful change in my community. But I’m not easy to deter, so won’t settle until my entire community thrives.