InJoy Magazine, June 2019
InJoy
Magazine
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A Collaboritave platform for art, encouragement and loving life in the bay
“Shit No One Talks About�
InJoy Magazine, June 2019
Contents...what’s inside
10.....The Truth About Resilience by Duchess M. E.
16.....Sorry, Not Sorry by Dana Swoyer
20.....Shit We Don’t Talk About by Karen James Cody
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InJoy Magazine, June 2019
Inspirational Leaders Wanted Together we have a voice, and it’s louder than when we scream alone...
~ Products that bring out the best Looking for reviews/suggestions of products that share the views of InJoy’s encouragement and laughter
~ Real Stories Our readers love your stories. As a community, we bring eachother together by sharing our own stories.
~ How to... Are you a Saavy DIYer? If so, share your secrets...and for god’s sake, someone tell me how to chalk paint that dresser!
Always looking for more of this... Poetry
Real-Life Stories
Short Stories
Recipies
InJoy Magazine, June 2019
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InJoy Magazine, June 2019
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InJoy Magazine, June 2019
Dear Readers, One day while sitting in a restaurant with some friends, I was half-laughing half-crying over some pathetic circumstance of heartbreak and silliness. Of course, being the real-friends they are, they shared their own stories…which led to more stories and more stories almost like a one-upping of shitty circumstances. The heaviness in my heard relented into joy, simply because…it’s really funny when you look back at it and tell the truth. I was so validated. Then one of them said something I’ll never forget…” That’s what your next theme for the magazine should be about. Shit no one talks about!” And so, this theme has finally come to pass, but I feel the need to share with you the purpose behind the vulgar words. First, my apologies if the title turns you off. Yes, we are a group of professionals and yes we are classy and mature. The vision of this small local magazine has always been of sharing our voice, offering encouragement to other women and uplifting eachother ESPECIALLY when emotions are painful. We need to talk about those times, ladies! Why? Because someone next to you, be it your best friend or someone you just met could be going through a similar situation and you really have no idea how much your own story could help them. No, you’re not shifting the focus of their pain onto you…different motivation here. You’re essentially telling that person, hey me too! You’re not foolish! You did the right thing! And most importantly, no honey, that’s not embarrassing…that shit is hilarious! Even if it’s not, these topics are so important. Awareness, ladies. Allow yourself to be vulnerable this month and share your story. Ok, maybe not your entire life story, but one that is relatable. Put a humorous spin on it and be a positive influence on someone’s life.
Crystal Editor, InJoy
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InJoy Magazine, June 2019
This month....
#injoytalk Share your idea of ‘shit no one talks about’ Social Media Engagement www.injoymagazine.com
https://www.facebook.com/injoymagazine/ https://www.facebook.com/groups/smalldeeds,greatlove/
www.instagram.com/crystal_injoy_magazine
https://twitter.com/JoyStCliffe
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InJoy Magazine, June 2019
Sometimes we’re human by Crystal Smith
I’m tired. It seems whenever anyone asks me how I’m doing I want to reply, “I’m so tired,” but of course I say, “Oh I’m well, how are you?”. The truth is I’m not just tired, I’m weary. Worn out. Maybe even burned out. I think of my to-do list and I feel that lump in my stomach, mindfully avoiding whatever responsibility I have to attend to. No, that’s not altogether true, I do keep up with my responsibilities. I even wake up at 430 to go to work. I know it’s early, but am I going to bed early to ensure I get enough rest? No. Why not? Because late at night when I’m enjoying my evening and I’m thinking about getting up to go to work I know that it’ll come faster if I’m sleeping. Don’t worry, I do have a plan. I have goals…just need to get there. The truth is, I don’t know what will make it better. It’s not just work though. It’s not just me struggling to stay positive when I feel like whining like a man. It’s not just feeling overwhelmed with responsibilities. It’s my passion and my drive and my energy. I think I misplaced it around Christmas-time. Or on my really angry days, I would like to say it was stolen from me (totally kidding). While my greatest drive and my excitement and energy came from thinking of this magazine and how to make it better. How to make it grow and reach an incredible amount of readers. I
want that drive back and that energy to tackle the entire world. I was admittedly struggling. So we took a break, a month to refocus and work on the website and the business. Yet the wheels are still turning in my mind of which direction (plan a or plan b) to take this incredible venture. Did it help? Yes. But the truth is I’m still unsure of which direction we will be going from here on out. Another year? A different direction? The truth is, I’m not quite sure yet. I’m looking for where the energy is leading me. Where it’s leading us. Just wait and see.
InJoy Magazine, June 2019
InJoy Magazine is a collaborative platform for art, encouragment and enjoying life in the bay. We are diverse, we are real, and we are together
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InJoy Magazine, June 2019
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esilience is the flexibility that we need when things don’t go the way we had planned. Recently, my sister, daughter and I planned a trip to visit my mother in another state. The plans were set, and everyone was excited to go. However, I have a new grandbaby coming in about 6 weeks, and there was an ER scare and I was needed to watch the other little grands in the family. I knew right then that I would probably not be going on the trip. I group texted my sister and my daughter to tell them that the plans may change. Immediately, they came up with a plan B that would work for everyone. While thinking on it, I just knew that my heart and mind would be here and even if we don’t have another ER visit, I wouldn’t be able enjoy the trip. So we engaged Plan B a few days later. While admiring my sister and my daughter for their quick actions to change over to plan B, it got me to thinking about resilience. It is a necessary and needed quality when you are dealing with life, and let me tell
you, that anyone who is more than a few years old will tell you that life sometimes gets in the way of our great plans and dreams. The ability to keep walking in such times is key to accomplishing your plans and enjoying your life. I’m sharing a few truths that may help you when you are wondering what to do about Plan A or Engaging Plan B. First off… DO NOT PANIC! If you have just hit the wall, and don’t know what to do, do not, absolutely do not panic. Panic will send you into a tailspin that is hard to recover from. We all know that when you get scared, your adrenalin starts to kick in and you have a fight or flight response. Panic, is somewhat in the same family. It actually shuts down your brain, and stops all the problem solving skills you may possess, and need. How
you get over this learned behavior is to learn something different. You can take deep breaths and keep your mind off of the “what am I going to do, what am I going to do?” carousel. By the way, let me drop this truth in here. You will react to pressure and curveballs by the way you have already been thinking and meditating on in your mind. Not the image you present to the world of uber confidence, but the thoughts you have been meditating on. In a crisis situation, the inside comes out. If you believe you can handle any situation that may arise, it will be there when you need it. If you believe that you never have good ideas and no one will listen anyway, then that is what will be revealed when crunch time comes. A great example is when you stub your toe. You may not have cursed up a blue streak for 25 years, but then you stub your toe and here those words come. They were still in there! Lately, based on this principle of not just what I’m thinking but what I’m telling myself,
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InJoy Magazine, June 2019 I have been looking at myself in the mirror and telling myself point blank that I am loved, capable, strong, and ect. You can actually rehearse such things, mediating on and saying “I am an excellent problem solver”. “I refuse to panic”, and/or “I am courageous!”. You can say these words in practice, and also when something wild comes up. You can be dealing with a situation and say, “I refuse to worry”, or “I refuse to panic”. Never, ever underestimate the power of your thoughts and words, especially what you are saying and believing about yourself. I just want to interject in here that worrying about difficulties produces no good thing. Worry is a kin to panic and it will also reveal your thoughts and what you have been meditating upon. And do you know what fretting is? I looked it up. Fretting is like gnawing, like a dog gnaws a bone. Fretting is worry on steroids. Sometimes people won’t understand when you are refusing to worry about a situation. I’m not talking about not taking care of business, but the worry comes in when you are on that merry go round of “what are we going to do?”. Have you ever been trying to deal with a problem and then step away for a few moments and then the answer comes? It’s because when you are worrying, you are intently focused on the problem. Stepping back for a moment or two will allow you to see the bigger picture and the solution. It’s perspective. Just the other day I was watching the food network, I know, I love the cooking shows, and there was a baking competition. This one baker was doing very well, and just near the end, she looked over at the other cakes and had a meltdown. She believed her cake was not as good as the others. She had to take valu-
Aa Bb able time for a few moments to get herself back together. The clock was ticking, but she was able to pull it together. She moved on to the next level of competition, and the same thing happened!! She was upset when she compared her cake to the others, but then she ended up winning the whole competition! I was encouraging her, talking to the tv and saying, “you can do it” “it’s beautiful” “don’t give up” as if she could hear me! I had already been meditating on resilience, and thought it was significant to what I am saying here. She had already been meditating on thoughts of not good enough and it got her in a more stressful situation than the competition brings. In this case, and haven’t we all done it, her perspective was on the wrong thing. Instead of being focused on how well she was doing, and honestly I liked her cake the best both times, she was focused on what the others had done and mixed with her own thoughts about her skills caused a meltdown. Your thoughts are key when you are seeking to be more resilient instead of full on shut down worrying drama.
Let’s take a moment of truth and honesty here. We all have our thing, right? It may be in a different package with a different wrapping on it, and a pretty bow to make it presentable, but we all have some thing we are dealing with; maybe, a bunch of things. This baking show I mentioned above happened right after I had my own revealing moment of truth. Personally, I get nervous about my talking. I had been doing well meditating on positive things, and thinking I was so over that nervousness when the pressure came. I was at a ladies brunch at the practically new church I have been attending with my daughter in love and a table full of strangers. No one was talking. So I pulled a trick my mom does when no one is talking and I just started talking. I think it broke the ice, but that didn’t stop me from continuing to talk. I have a google brain… you can type just about any subject in there and I probably have a story or random facts I could tell you about that subject. Add to that wonderful ability is my detail oriented self so I like to tell every little interesting detail. I felt it went well, but when it was over, and before we left the building, out of my mouth and completely to my surprise were these questions to my daughter in love. “Did I talk too much?” “Did I say anything I shouldn’t?”. She had to reassure me over and over. Before we even left the building! The very next day with a new friend and I need reassurance again! Not a fine impression I must say. It’s just like the baker in the story above, and you know reassurance is awesome. I am so thankful for that, really. But the honesty with yourself comes in with what do YOU believe. Five million people could tell you that you are beautiful. Your husband or mate could tell you every moment of
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InJoy Magazine, June 2019 every day, but it’s what you believe. What do you believe on the inside?? That is what matters. My goal is to keep making progress. Joyce Meyer, a motivational inspirational teacher, always says, “I’m not where I’m going yet, but Hallelujah I am not where I was”. Another excellent practice is to rehearse your past victories. You can be cooking food for the family and be mulling it over in your mind, remember when that crises happened and the answer came and we are good now, we made it thru. If you don’t feel you have any good past victories, and I promise they are in there, you can rehearse other people’s victories. I like to read biographies myself, and I am inspired by people who have overcome sometimes crazy bad situations. Problem solving skills really do become strengthened over time. As I said, I like the competition cooking shows, and there are times when the plan they had thought and started to implement was just not working. Time restraints, or a faulty oven, or the wrong ingredients and they have to come up with a plan B. These are prime examples of thinking on your feet and being flexible to create plan B. If your plan A is a large dream or goal, then I would encourage you to not beat yourself up if it morphs or delays when life comes around. Delays do not always mean it will never happen, and sometimes delays are good. Have you ever been flying somewhere, but your plane is delayed for what seems like forever, and you don’t know that there is a storm rolling thru and they are looking out for your safety. I remember that scene in the movie the Devil Wears Prada, (2006), with Meryl
“A Morphing Dream...” Streep and she is demanding that the plane be prepared to leave and in the background you can see the palm trees blowing nearly in half!! Hahaha. That is an excellent example of times when delays are good. It doesn’t mean it won’t happen, it just means the timing is off. A morphing dream is one that changes a bit. It’s not plan B, but it is Plan A with a few changes. Resiliency is the ability in this case to be okay with that. Here’s a funny example. I was a single mother when my kids were young and I loved all things Disney. I dreamed of having a princess wedding with that beautiful carriage they have there at the wedding chapel and having the kiss just as the fireworks were going off at the Magic Kingdom. Oh so nice, right? (Did you sigh?) But I am still single as I focused on raising my kids, and now enjoying my grandkids and traveling in a camper. I hadn’t thought about that for years and years but you know, now, I just want to get married in some flannel in front of a campfire and ride off into the sunset with a big beefy truck and a shiny airstream. Hahahaha. These changes aren’t bad and
it doesn’t mean I’m giving up my dreams, but they change over time as you change and grow as your life has different priorities. If you do have a dream or goal, write it down, tape it to your bathroom mirror and keep it before your eyes. I’m a list maker personally, and I have lists going back years, and while some have made the cut, most have gone to the wayside. But the ones that didn’t get cut needed a bit of clarification. It’s like having a business plan. They are good because you can refer back to them and keep the focus. There are many times that Plan A is a good one, and you may have to ride some waves once in a while, but when that happens, don’t panic, rehearse your victories, practice your problem solving skills, then set your feet to stick like glue on the surf board and ride those waves baby with a smile on your face. There are times when your dream, goals and plan A, gets squashed like a bug on the windshield. I’ve have that happen a few times. Once, crying out in front of the courthouse for three hours in my car after my divorce. Or a change in job when the loyalty wasn’t returned. I know one man who had worked his
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way up to assistant manager of a huge chain store with the dream of having his own store, but the hours, loyalty, and heart he put into that store was as nothing when the chain decided to layoff two thirds of its assistant management team nationwide. Suddenly, and in a moment of time, his dreams were shattered and he had to quickly make some hard choices because he had a family to support. Of course it hurts when you put that much heart into anything and it seems as if you are nothing. When my own situation happened years ago, I called myself the world’s biggest fool. I had a hard time changing that belief and confession and I meditated on it for a few years until my very Great God intervened on my behalf. I had to forgive and take hold of those thoughts, change them and then find a new dream. It was a process to turn the train around so to speak and getting it moving in a forward direction. I read books like Joyce Meyer’s Battlefield of the Mind, (originally published in 1995), and Dr. Caroline Leaf’s book called Switch on Your Brain, (2005). She has a new one I haven’t read yet called Think, Learn, Succeed, (2018). When you go thru the tough stuff, it is a testament to resilience.
Are you going to fold or are you going to find the strength to walk on. I personally don’t like regret, but if I were to regret something, it would be the years that were wasted being the world’s biggest fool. It worried my grown children and changed my view on the world and on people. I had narrowed my focus in on who I could trust and there was lots of leaning on the people who cared for me. I just want to encourage you, if you have found yourself squashed like a bug on the windshield that there is hope. There is always hope that something new and ever better than the old will come along. The man I told you about was able to find an even better job than before, with way less stress and more pay! I discovered that I could haul a camper and travel around and enjoy all the things this country has to offer. I haven’t learned to back up said camper after 4 years, but boy oh boy I can drive it forward like a pro! And I’ve met amazing people. It’s also given me compassion to help others who may be walking thru their own difficulties. You can tell your story, and help others who are overwhelmed. Seriously, no matter what, really, no matter what, don’t ever ever ever give up. Plan A or Plan B, or Plan zzzzzzz23112vv, don’t ever give up. You can do this!
Let resilience be your middle name
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InJoy Magazine, June 2019
Plan a. 3 Months
1 Year
5 Years
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InJoy Magazine, June 2019
Plan b. 3 Months
1 Year
5 Years
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Sorry, Not Sorry By Dana Swoyer
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But I’m not.
come back to the edge of the table so I can…” but I interrupt her, repeating myself through clenched teeth that she cannot see, “I’m so sorry… yes, ok. No, you’re not hurting me”. And the fact is, she wasn’t hurting me but I hate this. I always have hated this, and I reckon I always will. Ok, the squeaking is done for now. Hopeful, I say “Oh, wow, that was fast!” But I feel the whiplash in her dreaded comeback , “I haven’t really started yet”. And then I feel pressure. She’s cranking that thing open and I wonder how wide she opens her windows at home and is she going to need about the same leeway now because I feel a small wind tunnel blowing through me like the inside of a cave. I think I hear the faint howl of a whirling breeze making its way around stalagmites. Although, by now I’m feeling pretty proud of myself because it’s been about forty five seconds since she’s had to ask me to scoot. Still feeling the pressure, I’m suddenly alarmed. I think the pressure I feel is actually gas. I silently pray; “if you would please just let me get through this without blowing ass in my doctors face…” I feel her working in there and the sensation feels equivalent to scraping fifty years of old wallpaper off plaster. I know it’s almost done, but of course not before a post menopausal hot flash decides to join the party. Not just one of those ‘cute’, frequent little waves of heat, mind you. Nope, this was one of those baby grand mal flashes that give rise to sweaty, tacky skin. The kind that dumps a bucket of water over you from the inside out and deposits a wading pool in your belly button. The kind that you could almost swear others can hear coming on, like pressure relief valves opening on a radiator as steam forces out of every pore. I laid there, condensation pooling in the creases where my legs meet my body beneath the heavy, formless anatomic apron that has become my belly.
Not even close.
She’s finally done.
Luckily for the doctor, my hands can’t reach down and combat them away because they’re busy wrestling with the gown that almost fits. Instead, keeps falling open to the right, then the left, exposing one breast or the other or worse, the large baggie full of warm pudding that has become my abdomen. My mind is preoccupied wishing I wasn’t so uncomfortable with this, I mean, modest doesn’t exactly describe me. Yet there I am, praying the sensation of rubber squeaking over glass as I’m ‘speculated’ ends quickly. More pleading from the doctor: “Am I hurting you? You’re scooting away again, I really need you to
I’m sure she must know I think I have to fart because I’m now clenching my cheeks with all my might and mentally willing anything of contemplating force to retract back inside my body. I feel a subtle tug of war. She finally pulls that damn platypus billed looking contraption out of me but not without taking a solo hair along and it feels like a plucked guitar string. My vagina slams shut. Sealed like a tomb for another year. It’s the little things! She spins the metal stirrups back in and helps me into a sitting position. When I’m upright again, I’m mortified as the poundage of my belly blubs onto my lap like a huge batch of bread dough being
“... why we (women) apologize for so much. It seems we apologize constantly for things we shouldn’t.”
The
dialogue went something like this: “Dana, you need to come back to the end of the table.” “I’m sorry. Oh…Ok, there. Sorry.” I replied while scooting down the paper covered, sea foam green, vinyl table. And then more chatter; “A little more, please. Just try and relax your knees to the side.” “Oh, sorry.” And the banter went back and forth like that through the course of a routine exam. Doc would instruct, I would apologize and follow commands the best I could. If my feet could coil into a fist they would. If I could just cooperate while my doctor did this, I would. If only I was like one of those champion women who flip up on one of those tables like a pro, completely at ease with ‘their annual’, practically assisting their physician by holding the lamp and specimen jar whilst their uterine lining is being scraped for the lab, I would.
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poured from a bowl. I almost cry. Skin still sticky as it cycles through the evaporation process from the flash, I’m aware of the unpleasant tactile sensation she’s forced to endure as she does the rest of her inspection. I apologize out loud. My doctor is very thorough, a diagnostic champion that also possesses an empathetic compassion that’s hard to find these days where patient care has been replaced with patient cash. She senses my self inflicted shame and finds a way to shoo it away with a gentle smile and encouraging words about how happy she is with my overall health. The body shaming minimizes (for the time being) and we wrap things up. I’m left to dress and as I stand up, the tissue paper tablecloth I was laying on comes with me. It is adhered to my thighs, my butt, my back, everything. I turn a little to hop down but it’s still glued to my skin and starts unrolling from the spindle, but not without sending the sound of crinkling paper through the exam room door, out into the hallway. Gotta love the aftermath of a good flash. I physically have to peel away the damp paper stuck to my body, hoping I got it all. I look back at the table and ‘make the bed’, mentally apologizing for…for…for what? I count my apologies over the last half hour. It starts provoking a lot question in my head about why we (women) apologize for so much. It seems we apologize constantly for things we shouldn’t.
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I apologize anyway.
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InJoy Magazine, June 2019
Dana Swoyer
discovered her writing interests in the fifth grade when she wrote a poem, “What is Spring”. The poem was an assignment that was published in the local newspaper. Small but significant, that publication was the catalyst that encouraged her to write from that day forward. Later in life, she suddenly found herself a single mother of two. To make ends meet, she put her writing dreams on the back burner and earned her degree as a Licensed Radiographer in 1992. In 2002, she also earned credentials as a Licensed Massage Therapist. She is forever grateful that these careers provided a means for her to support her family, and she maintains licensure in both professions. Now an empty nester, Dana is more passionate about writing than ever before. She skillfully accommodates any genre, but her favorite material often has a cheeky humor that brings any circumstance to the bright side of the road. She writes with truth and grit, often leaving her readers wondering if they just read a story about themselves. That is her intention. She enjoys life with her husband and long time companion Jeff at their home in Ipswich, Massachusetts. When she isn’t writing, she can be found sitting at her potter’s wheel, painting, gardening, or combing the shores of New England, gathering treasures and inspiration.
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Shit We Don’t Talk About by Karen James Cody
“Can we start just by talking about it? “
Depending on where you and your people are from, the cultural beliefs of your current-day community, or your status in global society’s color-coded hierarchy, mental illness might be one of those things you just don’t talk about. In the Black community—and by “Black community” I mean people of African American, Caribbean, and African descent who live in America—we have a nearly universally-accepted cultural agreement not to talk about it. In the American context, a couple of factors operate. First, a supremely high cultural emphasis on strength. If you know anything about slavery, you know that it was a veritable mental illness factory. A slave who made it to adulthood with their wits intact was one of the strong. Strength, tenacity, endurance, and the ability to “hang in there” and “do what you gotta do” to survive got Black folk through the genocidal cruelty of slavery. The legacy remains, along with this high value on strength—and a corresponding
disdain for weakness. And there is, arguably, no greater capitulation, no greater weakness, than losing your mind. Secondly, there is the visceral distrust Black Americans have for the medical system. The trickery of the past works against us today. Knowing about the eugenics programs in the 1950s and 60s, where women were offered healthcare and then sterilized without their knowledge, and the Tuskegee experiments from 1932 to 1972 wherein Black men were used as human test subjects for the study of syphilis, too many Blacks just don’t trust the system. Conspiracy theories still run rampant in the community. Even the remarkable Henrietta Lacks story is seen by many as a violation; another exploitation of the Black body. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…! So, lots of people don’t go to the doctor – particularly Black men. Their reluctance to seek treatment for their physical bodies is surpassed only by their reluctance to seek mental health care. A dearth of Black doctors exacerbates the problem. According to
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a 2018 NY Times article, only 4 percent of doctors in the United States are Black. As a result of all these factors, and more, health outcomes for African Americans as a group are poor. Caribbean blacks share the same history as descendants of slaves. In the small, intimate communities of the Caribbean, talk of mental illness is a big no-no. The perception that there’s “madness” in your family brings you down a peg. It’s the sort of thing that can ruin your chances with a mate of choice. That shit runs in families, right? But, it’s a fact that beyond the Big People’s shocked, whispered speculation that she or he “gon’ mad,”
we don’t talk about it either. The less said the better, eh? Madness. Even the gossips whisper its name! Today, the causes of mental illness in the Black community in America remain legion: grinding poverty, exposure to violence, grief and loss, untreated trauma, substance abuse, family breakdown. Some 34 percent of Black children live in poverty. The exploding rates of incarceration have left some neighborhoods with nary a family untouched by the criminal injustice system. All this shit makes people crazy. The suicide rate among Black men is 4 times the national average.
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InJoy Magazine, June 2019 There are lots of prescriptions for Black folk to try to get better medical care. Among the most common: we must increase 1) access to health insurance, 2) access to actual treatment (among those who are insured), 2) the number of Blacks in medicine, and 4) cultural competence in healthcare delivery – so that accurate diagnoses, and actual treatment, can be given.
We have a lot of work to do to shift these statistics. Can we just start by talking about it?
Consider... Source: NAMI, National Alliance on Mental Illness, https://www.nami.org/find-support/diverse-communities/african-americans Only about one-quarter of African Americans seek mental health care, compared to 40% of whites. Here are some reasons why: • Distrust and misdiagnosis. Historically, African Americans have been and continue to be negatively affected by prejudice and discrimination in the health care system. Misdiagnoses, inadequate treatment and lack of cultural competence by health professionals cause distrust and prevent many African Americans from seeking or staying in treatment. • Socio-economic factors play a part too and can make treatment options less available. According to the U.S. Census Bureau, as of 2012, 19% of African Americans had no form of health insurance. The Affordable Care Act is making it easier and more affordable to get insured.
InJoy Magazine, June 2019
In your community, what do you not talk about?
Should you?
Do you think it might make a difference in awareness?
Do you think it might impact a change in culture?
What could you change...if you had the power to do so?
You do.
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