Consumer – the patient or client seeking assistance.

There is so much tension within the U.S. as we face the upcoming 2020 elections. And, thanks to social media via technology, our awareness is heightened about the ongoing incidents of excessive police violence along with the multiple “karen” encounters. 

Mobile phones and social media have brought more people into the conversation about active racism. It wasn’t enough for Black people to recount the negative encounters we’ve had with law enforcement to our nonblack friends and coworkers. It wasn’t enough that others had also witnessed it and could testify. In fact, incidents of macro-aggressions against Black people were downplayed with the accusation that we were over-sensitive or misreading the situation. But despite all the video coverage and disseminate via social media, it does not discourage law enforcement or individuals from revealing their true selves. Amongst those who may have had a hand in dismissing our experiences were our nonblack therapists.

Most people seek therapy in order to address mental health problems and to learn effective coping skills. Issues such as PTSD, depression, anxiety, childhood trauma, and other mental health problems cross the range of race, ethnicity, religion, age, gender & e.t.c. What happens within therapy sessions when in addition to one’s personal mental health being forefront, racism in all its various forms comingle with the personal thus compounding the stressors faced by consumers? Worst yet, what happens when one’s therapist downplays these feelings, especially in face of what the world has witnessed from George Floyd’s very public execution to the trial outcome of Breonna Taylor’s murderers? Can we solely work on the personal within our sessions with therapists and dismiss the external factors that impact how we feel about ourselves and our safety in the United States? Chime in.

I have not visited this blog since its inception in 2016 and now I have chosen to regenerate it at a crucial time. We’re isolated from one another and limited in where we can go and what we can do including any gatherings. I know that for many people in my family, church is central to their spiritual and mental health. In the neighborhood where I grew up as well as most Black/African American urban neighborhoods, there’s a church on almost every corner (liquor stores too).

I don’t get into debates about the contradictions between what people do and what people believe. Instead, I see the role of churches as central to many people’s lives as a community from which to draw support. 

Not only are we facing C-19 with Black and Brown communities experiencing the highest death rates, we are also under attack via police violence and growing unemployment or underemployment rates. We’re also facing intercommunity violence also which heightens our individual feelings of fear and isolation. As a Black woman, I have to make myself leave the house despite my fears because I will fall into my own pithole of depression if I don’t get out. But each time I make a choice to leave my house, I ask: Am I going to encounter a “Karen”? Will I be pulled over? So nowadays, I avoid too much eye contact and wear cool shades and a covered mouth which conceals most of what I’m feeling. 

What about people like my brother who’s in a nursing home where they aren’t allowed visitors?” Family becomes akin to distant relatives where our interactions are limited or cut off. And yes, I think of my mother whose dual diagnosis would not allow her to understand the situation. She would feel as if I had abandoned her and this hurts me most of all if I dwell on it. She’s not here and in a way I am glad.