A photo of Bernita Bowlding made the rounds on the internet earlier this month. 

Most people commented about how clearly the photo, the woman sitting on a D.C. Metro train on July 4, surrounded by masked white supremacists, showed Black people’s experiences in America: consistently dodging and dealing with racism that surrounds them–most of it masked.

It’s a good metaphor, for sure.

Yet, as a clinical psychologist, I see something a bit different based on the conversations that have sprouted from the image.

You see, Bowlding has suffered from mental illness for the past several years. The picture, to me, represents what it feels like for a Black woman to navigate daily life without people seeing her mental health struggles. It really begs the question: who is wearing the mask in that photo?

July is National Minority Mental Health Awareness Month (NMMHAM), a month in which attention is paid to the barriers and successes Bowlding and scores of others face just getting through the day. The commemorative month, named affectionately after Black woman and mental health advocate Bebe Moore Campbell, has reminded us since 2008 that stigma and culturally competent care are important for people of color. 

In recognition of NMMHAM and Bowlding’s strength in the viral photo and daily life, this month’s Therapy IRL will ask why we put on the mask, and, importantly, how to take it off. 

Masks keep us safe.
At the time of writing this piece, a heavy orange smog envelopes my window from recent Canadian wildfires. When I head out today, I’ll need to pull out masks [from my never-depleted COVID stash] because it helps to filter in quality air to my lungs. Yet we all know the other side—how stifling it can be beneath those masks, especially in a hot environment.
When we put on our masks to keep us psychologically safe, are we suffering from stifling? Are we able to fully unpack our concerns when we try to make it through the day smiling and pretending that all is well? We may think that putting a mask ‘pon your face is a way to keep us protected, but is it actually making us guarded? Here’s an invitation to take off your mask and walk boldly into a space knowing that a filter is not necessary to share what is challenging you today. We are free and encouraged to be open and transparent with loved ones and providers who can meet our psychological needs.

Masks keep us hidden.
Let’s go back to the picture for a moment. Surrounding Bowlding are all of these white-supremacist men who believe that the covering of their faces, eyes, and heads keeps their identities hidden. (We’ll jump over the fact that these same groups rallied against the use of masks for health reasons or collegiate protests). Technology, however, is stellar these days, and the slightest clue will have internet detectives figuring out who these hidden people are. Yet when we wear our collective masks to hide our mental health concerns, can we be seen–fully–if we attempt to dodge detection? Are our loved ones only catching a glimpse of us if we don’t show our whole faces, our whole selves, when we’re together? NMMHAM encourages us to look right in the face of the stigma surrounding mental health challenges and treatment. In doing so, we can ask, “Who is this really helping? How might these services actually work for me? What does it feel like to actually be seen?” Relief is possible when we express our whole selves to those who care.

Masks keep others safe.
At the height of COVID, whenever I saw someone wearing a chin sling—or a mask pulled down under their nose and mouth—I’d thank them for trying to keep both them and me safe. I’d model and inform them that I was wearing mine over my nose and mouth to keep them safe in case I had the virus. Masks are good at keeping others from contracting what we have, preventing the burden of disease from falling on others. And yet those suffering from mental health challenges feel the same way about keeping our masks on when getting our needs met with others. We believe that we may be spreading the burden to others when we breathe freely and unpack our concerns. But it is crucial for us to have the support of others in our families, communities, and care teams to ensure that the hardships of mental health challenges don’t fall just on an individual. NMMHAM encourages us to seek a community of care, understanding that providers of various services—like medication, emotions, bodily responses, trauma, and physical health—can work together better when we share freely and in a timely manner. Our health and well-being are important, and service providers can handle what we’ve got going on.

It can be scary to walk around without a mask. It also makes a lot of sense why we stay masked up. History has demonstrated time and again that services do not meet the needs of folks of color. Yet with a changing demographic of providers and professionals like me and my colleagues working to improve multicultural guidelines, policies, and practices shaping the field, it is crucial that we lean into care as freely as possible.

To those navigating the tough terrains of life with and without masks, including Bernita Bowlding, I wish you safety, peace, and—above all—wellness.

Riana Elyse Anderson, PhD, LCP, is a licensed clinical and community psychologist, associate professor at Columbia University’s School of Social Work, and affiliate with Harvard’s Hutchins Center for African & African American Research and FXB Center for Health and Human Rights. She is a Public Voices Fellow of The OpEd Project in Partnership with National Black Child Development Institute.

Author: Riana Elyse Anderson, PhD, LCP

Read the original article on Essence.