As Black, immigrant, pregnant, and low-income people brace for the possible worst outcomes of a second Trump administration, many, maybe even you, are grappling with a flood of emotions – fear, anger, sadness, and a deep sense of grief.
With the news cycle churning with reports of the potential for an administration that perpetuates anti-Black policies, acknowledging these feelings is not just important; it is essential, explained Raquel Martin, an assistant professor in the Department of Psychological Sciences and Counseling at Tennessee State University. The truth is, it’s normal to feel a plethora of emotions during these turbulent times, and recognizing that reality can be the first step toward healing.
The dripping hose of daily microaggressions may soon turn to full blast, leading to chronic stress and eroding mental well-being. While specific policies, if enacted, are likely to slash Black economic opportunity, increase incarceration, and lower access to housing — all set to degrade mental health outcomes.
However, amid this uncertainty, it is crucial to prioritize mental health as a tool for empowerment, said Martin, whose work focuses on Black mental health and Liberation Psychology.
“It’s a normal response to constant adversity,” she explains, urging individuals to honor their feelings rather than dismiss them. Grieving for the injustices faced and the uncertain future ahead is a sign of deep caring and commitment, she said.
This grief is an indicator of the investment individuals have made in their communities and causes. “Resting is an act of strength,” she insists, reminding us that stepping back to recharge is not a sign of weakness but rather a necessary part of resilience.
In this Q&A, we delve into practical strategies for Black Americans to nurture their mental well-being and cultivate a sense of agency in this moment and over the next four years. From prioritizing self-care routines to building supportive networks, the conversation highlights actionable steps individuals can take to safeguard their mental health. Ultimately, the focus is not just on survival but on thriving. By embracing practices that promote healing and connection, Martin said, we can foster resilience and solidarity within the Black community that charts a path forward, not only countering the impact of harmful policies but also inspiring collective action.
Capital B: What would you tell someone who is maybe feeling these emotions of hopelessness or distress for the first time?
Raquel Martin: I would say that it is normal. Especially for Black people, Black women, there is something we called “resistance fatigue,” and that’s a typical exhaustion that you deal with from long-term advocacy and having to push against injustice for so long. It’s real. You’re carrying the weight of having to push against the machine from day one knowing about systemic injustices, and that makes me pretty tired, especially when the solution that you think will help, or the option that you think would be the most beneficial to the world, doesn’t show up. But needing rest doesn’t make you any less a part of the resistance. It doesn’t mean you’re giving up. It just means that you’re human, and I consider it an aspect of stepping back so you can come back as your full self.
After people come to an understanding with these feelings, what is the typical next step?
I think the thing that we can do as a collective is rest. Understand that we do have the tools to combat this, like history has shown us this, time and time again. But I don’t think that’s something that we need to do right now. I think it’s important to feel the emotions and acknowledge the grief. Grief is an indicator of how much you really put into this situation. It’s an indicator of how much you cared. Because if you didn’t care, if you weren’t advocating for something, you wouldn’t be grieving at all. Grieving is an act of love. So I would say, “Grieve.” And I also tell my patients — because I work with a lot of advocates and activists — I would say it shouldn’t be the goal to kind of get over it or shake it off quickly because, as Black people, I consider us to be incredibly dehumanized.
Like one of the aspects of dehumanization is depriving us of human qualities such as negative emotion, such as sadness, such as anger, and I ask us not to dehumanize ourselves in the way that the world has. Dehumanization and adultification are the fuels of white supremacy. And by not acknowledging our emotions, by not acknowledging our feelings, we’re dehumanizing ourselves in the ways that others do. I encourage us not to do that. Resting is an act of strength, and it’s necessary for you to preserve yourself for the journey ahead, because it is very much a journey.
How can we collectively respond to this grief in a way that combats feelings of isolation and individualism?
I think a lot of people are dealing with collective grief. That’s a necessary response to what we can consider gearing up for a possibly traumatic event, and we also know what happened previously: the increase of racist incidents. So we are grieving for what we see is going to come. And I think that’s OK. Acknowledging your grief without judgment is, I think, the first step in honoring your truth and knowing and acknowledging the fact that you’re human. I think anyone who’s not grieving are the people who got what they wanted. You can be upset. Why wouldn’t you be?
I would also say that if you are struggling, try to find solace in those who are open to supporting you. Community is incredibly necessary. Therapy is not the only path to healing. Whatever path you take during difficult times will be shaped by your communities. Connect with those who understand and support you; find spaces where you feel seen, heard, and valued. Consider all the places where you feel you must mask your true self or co-opt your persona. Limit your time in those spaces. Instead, think about the environments where you feel the happiest and experience a lasting jolt of joy. Spend time with those people and immerse yourself in those communities. Lastly, set boundaries with individuals or spaces that drain your energy.
What if someone came to you and said they didn’t really know how to fully rest? What would you recommend?
Well, I think one issue is that everyone was tuned in to the news constantly, feeling the need to stay informed every step of the way, as if that was the only way to contribute. One way to rest is by limiting media consumption. I always say that if there’s a zombie apocalypse, you will know. If something significantly important happens, you will know. Stepping back means recognizing that you need a break from being plugged in all the time. So, limit your media consumption; step back from news and social media. The constant exposure to announcements can be really overwhelming, especially for Black people who are often inundated with negative portrayals. Taking a conscious break can be incredibly helpful.
Practicing self-compassion is also important. Give yourself permission to pause. Many of us don’t acknowledge our exhaustion; we carry so much, and caring for ourselves is necessary. Take solace in self-compassion, community care, unplugging, and acknowledging your grief because you can’t address what you don’t acknowledge. If you don’t recognize that this is tough and that you’re grieving, you won’t be able to address it.
I want to add that some people say they’re not surprised by the ongoing transgressions and racism they face. However, numbness to these issues is a sign that you’re also struggling. Just because you’ve dealt with it for a long time doesn’t mean it’s okay. You might say you expected this, but bracing yourself for a difficult event doesn’t lessen the impact. You can prepare for it, but that doesn’t mean you won’t feel that gut punch, and that’s okay.
I will never tell anyone to feel bad for having compassion and hope. Not expecting anything might seem like a way to shield yourself from disappointment, but blocking yourself from all feelings also blocks out the good. So don’t feel foolish or naive for having compassion and hope in a world like ours. That doesn’t make you weak; it makes you human. It’s perfectly fine to feel disappointed by what happened, or to express that you hoped for better outcomes. There’s nothing wrong with that. Don’t feel stupid for having compassion and hope in a flawed system; it’s a value we should all hold.