Happy Black History Month!

As I reflect on the work I just completed with two of my colleagues/sisters/friends in preparation for our American Counseling Association Conference presentation, I can’t help but think about the many conversations we had as we were meeting and discussing this work (shameless plug and shout out to Dr. Mona Robinson and Dr. Adrienne Erby). Our presentation entitled, “Tapping into the Ancestral Well: Translating Black Racial Trauma to Collective Action”, is significant for us as a people at this time in America. As we were working on this, we talked about the atrocities that have been happening in our world of late: the insurgence at the State Capital on January 6th with seeming impunity, the repeated viewing of Black bodies being extinguished right in front of our eyes on continual video loops, the inauguration of our first female, Black/Indian/Jamaican Vice President of the United States, and so many other topics relative to being Black in America. These issues stick in my mind for several reasons, most of which have to do with the conclusion that Black people are resilient, strong, and hopeful!

In thinking about this resilience, and the need to tap into our ancestral well, we must remember from whence we have come. Historically, Black people have suffered greatly at the hands of others. This lends itself to think about Racial Trauma and what that means for Black folks.

Brave Heart and Debruyn (1998) pioneered the concept of historical trauma. The primary feature of historical trauma is that the trauma is transferred to subsequent generations through biological, psychological, environmental and social means, resulting in a cross generational cycle of trauma (Sotero, 2006). Race-based trauma is defined as an individual’s personal exposure to racism that causes emotional stress, physical harm and/or fear. Using the framework of understanding trauma in this manner can help us understand how people in the Black community may be feeling given the current state of the world. Racial killings, economic losses, personal struggles, COVID-19 related illnesses and deaths and more have created an environment that is difficult to maneuver.

In spite of all of this, we have seen Black people overcome the negatives in their lives collectively, in community with others. This is necessary as we have seen that there are two Americas at play, and we must ban together to survive. The resiliency of our ancestors can be the blueprint for how we move forward. This resilience is seen in our collectivism, our racial and ethnic pride, our spiritual and religious connections, our interconnectedness of mind, body and spirit, and our family and community. These all speak to how we remain strong and engage in the process of having radical hope.

Historically, Black people have taken the negatives and used them to uplift our community. The quote below from Nikki Giovanni demonstrates how ingenious we are, how creative we are, how we won’t lay down and take whatever is handed to us in vain. We take our pain and turn it into prosperity…we take our heartache and turn it into a movement.

“Style has a profound meaning to Black Americans. If we can’t drive, we will invent walks and the world will envy the dexterity of our feet. If we can’t have ham, we will boil chitterlings; if we are given rotten peaches, we will make cobblers; if given scraps, we will make quilts; take away our drums, and we will clap our hands. We prove the human spirit will prevail. We will take what we have to make what we need. We need confidence in our knowledge of who we are.” ~ Nikki Giovanni

When examining the radical hope of our ancestors, we must understand what that means. Radical, as defined by the Oxford Dictionary, is relating to or affecting the fundamental nature of something. It is also defined as advocating or based on thorough or complete political or social change. Radical hope is revolutionary. This revolutionary hope for Black people involves understanding the history of oppression and resistance, embracing our ancestral pride, envisioning the possibilities for us as a people, and creating collective meaning and purpose of our experiences.

We are the offspring of those who refused to die…we are Black history…we are kings and queens! This does not mean that we are immune to pain and distress. This does not mean that we don’t get angry, tired, frustrated, etc. The perception of the angry Black man and the angry Black woman are interesting to me because, after all, we have so many reasons to be angry. What we cannot do is allow that anger to destroy us, but use it to propel us to higher, to greater, to victory.

There are times that we have to take the time to rest and regroup, but we don’t give up. We need to seek counseling when necessary and engage in healthy self-care as needed. When people refuse to give you a seat at the table, I am a strong proponent that we make our own table and gather those who are able to create change. It is necessary to create a path of wholeness and wellness for the culture, and we must tap into our ancestral well to find ways to do that.

The great James Baldwin is quoted as saying, “Your crown has already been bought, all you have to do is put it on”! I invite you to put your crown on and to walk in the anointing that has been handed down to us from our ancestors. We must be a community that looks out for each other and supports our forward movement to greater. We must be a community that lifts each other up and mentors those young people who are coming behind us. We must be a community that moves from racial trauma to collective action, radically and with purpose.