#Standing4BlackGirls 2021 Rally, Leimert Park, L.A., Photo by BlueGreen
By Sikivu Hutchinson
“I was driving the №1 Highway in northern California and I was overcome by the appearance of two parallel rainbows. I had a feeling of near-death or near catastrophe. Then I drove through the rainbow and I went away…I put that together to form the title.” Ntozake Shange.
Poet, playwright, and activist Ntozake Shange’s 1975
“choreopoem” play for colored girls who have
considered suicide/when the rainbow is enuf was a
landmark artistic acknowledgment of the mental health toll racism, sexism, and
domestic violence take on the lives of Black women. Shange reportedly considered
suicide four times before writing her seminal work. Her play was only the
second Black woman’s production to be featured on Broadway (after Lorraine
Hansberry’s 1959 smash A Raisin in the Sun). Decades
later, Black female suicide is still a third rail taboo in Black communities.
It is not difficult to see why. How many times have
Black folks heard that “Black people don’t” do certain things
because only crazy,
pathological white folks do these things? How many times have Black women, in
particular, heard that running to
the church, god, Jesus or faith are the most acceptable antidotes to
depression, self-doubt, and suicidal ideation because “god won’t give you more
than you can handle”? How many times have Black girls been gaslit into
believing that staying “prayed up” will make the pain and trauma of abuse
magically go away?
As an atheist and abuse survivor who has struggled with
depression and suicidal ideation, hearing the litany of things “Black people
don’t” do sends my bullshit detector into overdrive. The truth is, moralizing
about Black conformity hinders direct engagement with the mental health risks
and challenges we face — especially when it comes to addressing the dramatic increase in
suicide among Black girls. Aspiring psychologist and 19-year-old college
student Ashantee Polk notes that, “Suicide is simply not talked about in our
communities. So many Black women and girls of all ages are dealing with mental
health issues. They’re overlooked because we are supposed to be ‘strong’ and
we’re supposed to be able to endure what we go through.”
The prevailing stereotype is that Black girls are
superwomen in training; strong, ultra-resilient, 24/7 caregivers to everyone, and
responsible for lifting up others at all costs. Fist-pumping memes and
affirmations that extol “Black Girl Magic” and “Black Women Saving the World”
may actually obscure the gravity of Black female depression. And, despite
increasing attention to Black women’s victimization, Black men and boys are
frequently prioritized in national discourse around violence and self-harm.
Picking up on these cues, Black girls often see that creative Black women, or
Black women who don’t conform to gender norms and expectations, are
marginalized, demonized, and ridiculed. The prevalence of these messages is
precisely the reason why rising rates of Black female suicide remain under the
radar.
According to Time magazine,
“Suicide rates among white people in the U.S. declined from 2019 to 2020,
contributing to a 3% overall drop in suicide deaths in that time period. But
there were no statistically significant declines in suicide rates for Black
Americans or other Americans of color; in fact, for some racial or ethnic
groups, rates increased from 2019 to 2020. Among Black youth and young adults,
in particular, suicide rates have climbed steadily over the past two decades.”
From 2003–2019, suicide among Black girls increased by 59%. The
biggest increase occurred among 12–14-year-old
girls.
What is
happening in this age group? Normalized sexual violence and sexual harassment
play a big role. Racist/sexist social media targeting, as well as an overall
lack of protection for Black girls experiencing gender violence in elementary
and middle school, are also factors. From a very early age, Black girls are
subjected to a steady drumbeat of anti-Black misogyny in mainstream media and
music. Glued to phones and tablets, Black girls are oversaturated with toxic
imagery that brands them as bitches, hos, and thots, along with a constantly
evolving array of sexists, colorist, body shaming, and victim-blaming epithets.
According to the Black Futures Lab 2019 census, African Americans overall are
also more likely to identify as LGBTQ+ than non-Black folks (with a significant
portion represented by Gen Z and Millennials), thus, constant exposure to
homophobic and transphobic imagery and language are major stressors for Black
youth.
In addition, the pandemic has been especially traumatic
for Black girls who must shoulder the burdens of caregiving, schoolwork, jobs,
and surviving rampant sexual and domestic abuse. Rising rates of gun
homicide among Black girls and women attest to this toll. Although homicide
rates rose by 30% nationwide,
rates for Black women and girls increased by 33%. Writing on this issue in
the Guardian, Lois Beckett and Abene Clayton note that these stats
represent “a sharper increase than for every demographic except Black men, and
more than double that of white women.” Living in communities where gun
homicide, domestic abuse, and police violence are pervasive, there are often
few outlets that provide safe spaces for Black girls.
High rates of suicide and homicide are symptoms of the
same structural inequities and vulnerabilities. As Essence magazine
notes, “According to the American Psychological Association, African American
teenage girls surpass their White and Hispanic counterparts in suicide
attempts…” Yet, some of the subject experts cited in Essence,
Time, and other publications do
not explicitly highlight how racialized gender disparities
inform increasing suicide rates among Black girls (a 2021 Therapy for Black
Girls podcast featuring Drs.
Jeanette Wade and Michelle Vance is an important exception). Instead, they
consistently identify racial injustice, trauma, and poverty as the most salient
factors.
This is problematic. If evaluations of Black female
trauma are not intersectional then prevention, intervention, treatment, and
recovery become even more difficult. Culturally responsive resources and safe
spaces that are specifically (and unapologetically) tailored to meet the needs
of Black girls are critical. Queer safe spaces such as GSA
clubs have been proven to provide youth with greater
motivation to stay in school, graduate, and go on to college and careers.
Similarly, gender and racial justice-oriented campus and community
organizations that promote civic engagement, activism, mentoring, wellbeing,
professional development, college readiness, and career paths can provide safe
spaces to combat depression and isolation among Black girls in particular and
Black youth in general.
In a statement decrying the rise in Black adolescent
suicide, the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry recommends “advocating
for increased investments in programs that build a more culturally competent
and minority-representative pediatric health care workforce”. Truth be told,
the majority of Black youth receive mental health care at school from social
workers and counselors when they receive it all. In many school districts,
access to a psychiatric social worker is a crapshoot due to high student-to-practitioner
ratios and policies that stigmatize Black youth as violent and criminal. This
is why wellness initiatives that
provide Black girls and Black gender expansive youth with therapy from
culturally competent, BIPOC womanist, feminist, queer-affirming, and
trauma-informed practitioners are an essential element of suicide prevention
care. Informal friend, family, and mentor networks that “lead with love’,
compassion, and joy” can provide Black girls across sexuality with
opportunities to vent, reflect, and connect around shared life experiences are
critically important.
Suicide and suicidal ideation among Black girls should
be responded to holistically, utilizing a multi-pronged approach to wellness
that ensures elementary, middle, and high school-aged Black girls don’t bear
the brunt of normalized misogynoir and adultification. As 20-year-old Women’s Leadership Project peer educator and
activist Jadyn
Taylor argues, “We cannot handle everything the world throws at us,
including prejudice, gender inequality, and stereotypes, with a smile on our
faces and a pat on the back. We need mental health care and a system set in
place for young Black girls struggling with depression. If we cannot speak
about our mental health issues at home then where are we supposed to get help
for free ourselves? Start paying attention to Black girls and listen when we
speak because we may be begging for help without saying ‘Help’”.
*On Saturday, July 16th, the National Suicide Prevention
Lifeline will transition to 988, offering 24/7 mental health
crisis support nationwide
Mental Health Resources for African American Girls and
Young Women
#Standing4BlackGirls Wellness
Initiative, provides free individual therapy for Black girls and
gender expansive youth in L.A. County. The founding organization Women’s Leadership Project is a Black
feminist mentoring and civic engagement program for BIPOC girls of color and
LGBTQ+ youth
Wellness Action Recovery South
Carolina-based suicide prevention nonprofit fun by Black female suicide
survivor Fonda Bryant
Sadie Nash Leadership Project provides
award-winning experiential social justice education to over 500 young women
and gender-expansive youth in
New York City and Newark
Therapy for Black Girls provides
national resources for therapy, counseling, and outreach in addition to a
mental health blog and podcast
What’s Missing from the Conversation
about Black Women and Suicide with Dr. Jeannette Wade and Dr.
Michelle Vance, whose work centers on suicide research & intervention among
Black women and girls.
Secular Therapy with Suandria Hall
How to Talk to a Child Who is
Struggling
