Radical Self-Care Is Essential For Black People and a Tool of Resistance
It’s time to talk radical self-care
In honor of Black History Month, and as a Black woman who vigorously and zealously loves my people, culture, and history, I wanted to discuss the importance of health and wellness for the Black community, and why supporting the self-care of Black people is extremely transformative and healing. Support could look like advocating for them in the workplace and being transparent about salaries, donating towards individual and collective causes, engaging via social media with Black content-creators to boost their engagement, or actively educating yourself on systemic racism. All of these take the load off of Black people making navigating their experience a bit easier. When Black people have the proper resources to engage in acts of care it becomes something radical, and a testimony to the current systems that oppress their livelihood.
A 2021 report by the American Psychological Association (APA), Stress in America, found that Black Americans were most likely to report feelings of concern about the future, and have been disproportionately affected by the effects of pandemic stress to their counterparts. This report did not take into account the resurgence of the Black Lives Matter Movement from the ongoing National displays of anti-blackness and extreme cases of police brutality and the additional stress this can cause. In this case, radical self-care goes beyond a face mask and drawing a steamy bath (though that's always welcomed!) In the words of health consultant Kelechi Ubozoh, "I’m a black woman living in America trying to navigate “the system” with my own historical trauma and survivorship (suicide, sexual violence). Self-care for me is a full-time job."
To be sure, I am no health expert, but I am an expert in living with the experience of anti-black racism, and over the years I have picked up a few things to null the not-so-easy days that have worked for me. Perhaps this can inspire you, so take what works, and leave the rest. Remember, ultimately only you know what's best for you.
Rest
A movement that has given me hope and an amazing reframe comes from The Nap Ministry, which has popularized "rest as a form of resistance." I no longer labor myself into exhaustion because of my programming of having to work twice as hard, but rather take the time to honor my body and rest when it's asking me to without guilt or shame. Sometimes this is easier said than done, but when I acknowledge my history and know that my ancestors labored for centuries, under extreme and unimaginable conditions that still affect us today, I honor my rest as something sacred that my people and I deserve.
Taking up Space
For me, the idea of taking up space means unapologetically living out loud, and with your head held high. In other words, there are undeniably odds stacked against Black people, and this becomes more complex when the intersections of gender expression, sex, religion, disabilities, etc. are involved. However, despite that, I have the right to an easeful and bright existence. I challenge the notion that resiliency doesn't mean asking for help or speaking your needs, so I take up space with my voice. I spend time in nature, with people who shroud me in safety and love, and most importantly with myself getting in touch with my desires and needs and taking steps towards that. That's being unapologetic in the claim you stake for your life, and it makes me feel seen, and whole, and grounds me in the knowledge far beyond the struggle. There's a time and place for everything, but performing for respectability's sake slowly pulls me out of my power, and when I have the time, space, and energy, I live out loud as I am.
Tuning Out
For my peace of mind, I need to create technology boundaries. There is an abundance of content and platforms for this content, also now more than ever we have so many digital spaces to be in communication with one another. The general overstimulation of it all, plus how to navigate it is something that's not discussed enough. The mute button, the unfollow button, and the block button have become my best friend because any disturbance of my peace of mind is not worth it. I implement boundaries when it comes to who and what I follow because discernment is spiritual and emotional protection. Also, setting boundaries for the hours of when I respond to work emails and calls has been huge for my mental health. When are constant news cycles and images circulating of Black death and anti-black violence, I take space away from the screens and honor the time I need to grieve and process the collective trauma.
Written by:
Jordan Rome, Editor-In-Chief at Urban Wellness Mag