Contributed by: Jacquilyn Davis, DEI & Engagement Coordinator, Mental Health Connecticut
Bebe Moore Campbell Minority Mental Health Month is an important time each year for individuals from minoritized communities to come together and share their unique experiences in their mental health journeys. These stories are ones we can all learn from, celebrate, and utilize to enact positive change. Here’s mine.
As a mixed woman who grew up in the “melanin minority” in my small home town of Bloomfield, CT, I have my own unique experiences that have impacted my mental health and still impact my overall wellness. I cannot and will not speak to anyone else’s experiences, but for me, growing up mixed meant growing up “mixed up.” I didn’t seem to fit in anywhere outside of my own house. No one else but my sister and parents understood the lives we lived, the discrimination we faced as a mixed family, the hateful words, and the racist actions taken against us.
My grandfather on my mother’s side disowned her and refused to meet me or my sister until I was 10 years old. His racist opinions of my father and the multi-racial union of my parents was something he refused to get over. Others on that side of the family were absent from my childhood. Stubborn attitudes and hateful actions created an “us vs. them” divide before I was even born.
Imagine growing up knowing people in your own family hate you, just because of the color of your skin. Then add in the teasing and name calling on playgrounds from Pre-K to senior year, the micro-aggressions that make you second guess if you were given a compliment or an insult, and the outward ignorance of people who ask “are you adopted” because they can’t conceive of how I’m related to my own parents. The constant questions and labels from society that demands to put you in a box is exhausting. This was just a small portion of my childhood but it shaped my mental wellbeing, created self-doubt, and planted a trauma in me that I’m still unpacking. What my parents endured, what my grandparents endured and caused, what my ancestors from both sides of my family tree went through all compound and weigh heavily on my mind.
The generational trauma I deal with is real and a large part of my mental health journey. Generational trauma (also known as intergenerational or transgenerational trauma) is a trauma that is passed down from one generation to the next. “The symptoms of generational trauma may include hypervigilance, a sense of a shortened future, mistrust, aloofness, high anxiety, depression, panic attacks, nightmares, insomnia, a sensitive fight or flight response, and issues with self-esteem and self-confidence.” (https://www.health.com/condition/ptsd/generational-trauma) Minoritized communities are known to be more susceptible to generational trauma, by nature of the history of oppression, abuse, and systemic exploitation of these communities.
Being born a minority and now as an adult being challenged to relabel myself as the world thinks of new ways to define each other, I find myself seeking clarity for my own wellbeing’s sake. A wise man once told me that it’s not about the labels they give you. It’s not about what they call you. What matters is what you answer to. I’m mixed. In my world, that makes me a minority. I’m proud to be different, to own my experiences (the good and the bad) and be able to learn and grow from them. I’m proud to share a piece of my story in celebration of a phenomenal woman, Bebe Moore Campbell, who helped to pave the way for our voices to be heard. She helped open the conversation around the uniqueness of mental health journeys for diverse individuals. Our cultures, our backgrounds, our past traumas and circumstances all have the potential to shape us and impact our wellbeing. By dedicating a month to talk about those differences, we are better prepared to help ourselves and each other.
