Our Voices: For people of color, mental health is as important as physical well being

Pulling me aside, a former coworker admonished me to take mental health days. “Mental health is just as important as physical health,” she said. With a raised brow and a slight laugh, I silently questioned what she meant by mental health days. I’d recently begun working at the University of Kentucky in the School of Journalism as the director of student and alumni affairs, but she had spent decades employed at UK in various offices.

Although eager to return to my alma mater, it didn’t take long before I was viewed as a threat. Kecia M. Thomas, Ph.D. and dean of the University of Alabama at Birmingham College of Arts and Sciences, conducted a study in 2012 that looked at the challenges Black women in academia face. In a phenomenon she terms “From Pet to Threat,” Thomas describes how when newly hired Black women begin feeling more secure in their professional roles and demonstrate growth and competency, a shift occurs. Once seen as the beloved office pet, the Black woman is now seen as a threat or competition. In an attempt to harness her development, she is subjected to microaggressions and a hostile work environment.

Shortly after I started working in the journalism department, a white faculty member accused me of being incompetent, which prompted an administrator’s threat to fire me. After seeing me in the parking lot with a new vehicle, a white colleague remarked they were paying me too much money. On separate occasions, two white faculty members barged into my office. One cursed at me while the other scolded me as if I was her misbehaved child.

After an extensive renovation of the journalism building resulting in a newly created suite of offices, my office was relocated to a storage closet. The dark brown mold on the ceiling perfectly reflected how I felt while working in an extremely toxic environment. I could not breathe. I became emotionally frayed like the worn, dirty carpet on the floor and my passion for writing was stripped.

A routine visit to have my teeth cleaned revealed the enormity of workplace trauma I endured at UK. While examining my mouth, my dentist asked if I was stressed. Reclining in the dental chair, I reflected on years of abuse ranging from not being provided the resources to effectively do my job, being told by a white colleague she had kinky hair like me, and experiencing overwhelming feelings of alienation. Yes, I was stressed. My dentist explained the stress contributed to me grinding my teeth at night and if left untreated, I could develop temporomandibular joints (TMJs). She prescribed a custom fit mouth guard to wear at night while sleeping.

I made multiple appointments with my primary care physician’s office complaining of chest pain throughout my employment at UK. On one office visit, a nurse asked if I was depressed. I quickly responded no. She then inquired how I managed stress. I explained I was a Christian and my faith helped me deal with the blatant racism and discrimination I encountered at work.

What I failed to tell the nurse is that within the Black faith community, we have catch phrases like “too blessed to be stressed” or “too anointed to be disappointed.” We proudly wear these sayings on tee shirts as if we’ve arrived at some spiritual hierarchical plateau that makes us immune to the harsh reality of being Black in a white America.

Although these catchy phrases are designed to strengthen our faith, they have the polar opposite effect on our mental health. They do not provide an outlet to express how we really feel. We’ve managed to equate Christianity with a guaranteed pass freeing us of everyday life stressors. We fail to recognize faith and stress are not mutually exclusive.

Luke, one of the New Testament authors, recorded Christ’s most agonizing moments on Earth. On the eve of His crucifixion, Jesus contemplated His imminent death. As He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, the human side of Jesus became emotionally distressed. He shared with His disciples He was sorrowful to the point of death. Anguished, He sweated profusely. Out of the four gospels, Luke is the only one who writes Jesus’ sweat became like drops of blood falling onto the ground. As a physician, he was qualified to make that diagnosis. The stress of an unjustified, looming death caused our Lord to experience hematohidrosis, a rare medical condition where individuals sweat blood.

If Christ, which is Jesus’ title and translated as The Anointed One, did not escape life’s strains and pressure, why do we believe we are exempt? Jesus provided a poignant example of how to manage stress. He prayed and He talked about His problems with others.

It is incumbent we normalize seeking professional mental care and that we remove the stigma of mental illness. Labeling people crazy lends itself to individuals not receiving the help they need. Had I sought counseling while working at UK, I would’ve been provided coping mechanisms to manage my anxiety. It is not counter faith to pray to God while also making an appointment with a therapist, especially one who understands the trauma and disparities Black people face.

The complexities of being Black in a country where systematic racism is the norm causes undue stress. Stress contributes to heart disease, hypertension, diabetes, anxiety, and depression. It’s ironic when Black people attempt to make a living, institutional racism may lead to a premature death or emotional instability. I wish my doctors and I would have explored the root of why I was having chest pains.

I no longer question why my former coworker advised me to take mental health days. Working at an institution that only recognized diversity when naming scholarships, fellowships, and buildings after civil rights pioneers while continuing to silence the voices of Black faculty, staff, and students was as crippling as PTSD. It’s imperative to engage in activities that help eliminate stress. Whether it’s traveling, taking pictures, writing, or hiking, I invest in my well being because mental health is just as important as physical health.

Lisa A. Brown is a freelance writer, photographer, world traveler, and author.

This story was originally published June 4, 2021 at 9:08 AM.