Why I Will Not Be Quiet

Sometimes silence is more than an absence of words. At some point, quiet becomes acceptance and acceptance becomes complicity. That moment has come for me. I will not; I cannot be silent about racism, about racial injustice, about the ways in which the past continues to shape the present. I can't be silent because certain individuals are uncomfortable with my words. History has taught us time and again that injustice doesn’t go away just because decent people want it to. It only fades when people are prepared to see it, face it, talk about it, and act deliberately to change it.

I’ve read so many books and have had enough experiences that remind me that racism cannot be reduced to isolated acts by obviously prejudiced people. But together, these works invite us to consider something much deeper: how racial ideas are learned, how inequities are built into institutions, how historical policies have consequences that live on for generations, and how exhausting it can be for Black people to constantly navigate and explain those realities.

That is why I cannot remain silent.

For instance, Richard Rothstein’s The Color of Law explains how government policies created and sustained residential segregation in America. This history is significant because housing has never been just about where someone sleeps at night. It matters because where families could live shaped the schools their children attended, the value of the property they owned, where they worked and how they got there, the resources available in their communities, and their ability to build and transfer wealth. When we talk about modern inequality, we start the discourse in the middle of the story without considering its past.

Kristina DuRocher’s Raising Racists confronts another painful fact, this time in the form of how white children in the Jim Crow South were molded into a racial hierarchy. Racism didn’t just miraculously duplicate itself from one generation to the next. Ideas have to be transmitted, modeled, reinforced, and normalized.” From adults, children learned what was acceptable, who had power, who was less than, and where the racial lines were supposed to be. That past should make us reflect on what today’s children are learning from us. They hear what adults say, but they also see what adults will put up with. They see which stories are taught and which are minimized. They see whose rage is judged justified and whose is considered frightening. They see stereotypes, jokes, assumptions, pictures, commercials, policies, and inequalities. Most of all, perhaps, they observe our quiet.

Robin DiAngelo moves the debate in Nice Racism and White Fragility by challenging readers to evaluate if being a kind, well-intentioned person is enough to avoid causing racial harm. Whatever individual readers think of DiAngelo’s arguments, the questions she raises are worth wrestling with. Are we more interested in showing we are not racist than we are in understanding if what we say, support, or participate in contributes to racial inequity? Are we so defensive about the charge of racism that we never study the issue itself? Politeness is not justice, nor do good intentions always bring about good results.

Mary-Frances Winters’ Black Fatigue articulates another level of this struggle, the fatigue of having to face racism over and over again. There is a tiredness in having to explain why something is offensive. There is a weariness in proving that discrimination is still here. I am tired of seeing another racial crisis unfold, followed by outrage, denial, carefully worded apologies, promises to do better, and then silence until the next episode. There is a specific fatigue in repeatedly having to prove your humanity to people who can choose to tire of the discussion.

Heather McGhee’s The Sum of Us pushes the conversation further to challenge the zero-sum assumption (what benefits Black Americans or other marginalized groups must be paid for by white Americans). Her work examines the broader costs racism can impose on society. This is a key argument because racial injustice is not only a “Black problem”; it is an American problem. A society that allows racism to distort its housing, education, economic, political, and social systems ultimately diminishes itself. We have to look at the evidence. We have to question assumptions, including our own. We should not shy away from controversy. But disagreement is very different from not having the talk at all. Intellectual discomfort should lead to deeper investigation, not quiet.

And when I think about why I can’t be quiet, I also think of those who came before me and wouldn’t be quiet when silence would have been far safer. Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. recognized the peril of staying quiet. King’s 1963 Birmingham campaign was aimed not just at the open segregationists but also at those who quietly realized the unfairness of race but maintained a public silence. In his Letter from Birmingham Jail, he challenged the idea of Black Americans waiting for a more “convenient” time to seek justice. King knew that real progress is rare because the beneficiaries of the status quo rarely decide that the moment for change has arrived. His example teaches us that recognizing injustice privately is one thing, and fighting it publicly is another.

Adam Clayton Powell Jr. would not be silenced either. Powell had worked on campaigns against employment discrimination and other types of racial inequity in New York before coming to Congress. He maintained his efforts to end segregation and discrimination in Congress, utilizing political influence to promote civil rights. Powell knew that access to institutions was not enough, that within those institutions one had to be willing to utilize that access to oppose injustice.

Malcolm X would not be silent; that much is sure. His language and philosophy were markedly different from King’s, and his views evolved during his life, notably after his pilgrimage to Mecca. But Malcolm, in his public life, called on America to face racial injustice, not retreat behind cozy self-narratives. He spoke explicitly about the dignity of black people, about self-determination, about racial injustice and eventually the greater struggle for human rights. Malcolm had a knack for making people hear things many were reluctant to hear.

King would not be quiet. Powell would not be silenced. Malcolm wouldn’t be silent. They differed in philosophy, tactics, rhetoric, religion, and politics—and these distinctions are not to be obliterated. Yet each knew something fundamental: quiet does not combat injustice.

I can relate to their examples because the chances I have had, and the chances I have now, exist in part because the generations before me would not be silent. People marched when it was not safe to march. They sat down at lunch counters knowing they might be attacked. They signed up to vote, knowing that it could cost them their jobs, their houses, their safety, or their lives. Teachers told youngsters they were somebody in a society that constantly sent them messages that they were not. Parents prepared their children to attend schools, jobs, and communities where they recognized those youngsters might not always be treated properly. Ministers spoke. Writers wrote. Scholars studied. Organizers organized. The people had their say.

They wouldn't be quiet, and neither will I.

So how can I benefit from their courage and then opt for silence since today’s talks about race make people uncomfortable? I can’t do that.”

I can't stay quiet because racism did not go away after slavery was abolished. I must not stay silent because racism did not end when Jim Crow laws ended. I cannot be silent because laws, despite their importance, cannot suddenly erase attitudes, institutional practices, and accumulated disparities or ideas passed down from one generation to another. I cannot remain silent because our children are watching and learning from what we question and what we tolerate.

I cannot keep quiet because there is too much history to pretend we do not know. Too many books make it impossible to pretend the research has never been conducted. Too many voices to pretend no one has told us. Too much evidence exists to simply turn away because examining it might make us uncomfortable.

That’s not to say every disagreement is racist. No, it isn’t. Nor does speaking against racism mean that people cannot challenge my conclusions. They absolutely can. Serious conversations require evidence, critical thinking, intellectual honesty, and a willingness to listen as well as speak. But what I will not stand for is the notion that quiet is somehow better than uncomfortable conversation.

I'll take a difficult conversation that gets us to a place of understanding over a comfortable quiet that leaves injustice in place. I like to raise hard questions instead of pretending that hard truths don’t exist. I’d rather study history honestly than uphold a mythology that mandates that parts of that past be erased.

I think of King writing from a Birmingham jail, of Adam Clayton Powell Jr. using his voice and position to challenge discrimination, of Malcolm X standing before audiences and demanding that America confront itself, and of the countless unnamed men and women who spoke when the consequences of speaking were far greater than anything most of us face today, and I am reminded that my voice carries a responsibility.

So I shall read: I’ll look into it. I shall question. I shall instruct. I’ll listen. I will contest. And I’ll talk. Not because speaking guarantees that everyone will agree with me. Not because raising my voice automatically makes me right. Not because the conversation is easy.

I will speak because racism deserves examination rather than avoidance, truth rather than mythology, dialogue rather than denial, and action rather than comfortable silence. I will talk because racism calls for analysis, not avoidance; reality, not mythology; conversation, not denial; action, not comfortable silence.

The people before me had the bravery to speak when speaking came with great consequences. Their voices made possibilities that many of them never lived long enough to enjoy. They deserve more than my quiet. I owe the generations coming after me more than quiet. And I owe myself more than my quiet.

That’s why I won’t shut up.

When Racist Imagery Makes It Through the Approval Process, “We Didn’t Know” Is No Longer Enough

 

There comes a point when “we didn’t realize how it looked” stops being a satisfactory explanation.

The two images accompanying this article are disturbing to me for reasons that should be immediately apparent to anyone familiar with the history of racism in America. One is from a recent Converse campaign. The other is associated with a Halloween costume sold by Target. In my view, both draw upon imagery with a long and painful history of degrading, terrorizing, and dehumanizing Black people. And once again, after public outrage, we hear versions of the familiar corporate response: "We got it wrong." "We are sorry." "We will do better." However, better never seems to come as we keep seeing the same so-called mistakes. But I have a question: How does something like this get approved in the first place?

These Ads Do Not Appear Out of Thin Air

Advertising campaigns for corporations the size of Converse and Target are not created by one person sitting alone at a computer and then immediately released to millions of consumers. Concepts are developed. Photographers, stylists, designers, creative directors, marketing executives, brand managers, agencies, merchandising teams, and corporate decision-makers may be involved at different stages. Images are photographed, selected, edited, cropped, reviewed, revised, approved, and ultimately published. That is precisely why claims of ignorance are so difficult for me to accept.

In the case of Converse, critics said the combination of a white triangular form and dangling black shoes evoked the Ku Klux Klan and the lynching of Black Americans. Converse subsequently removed the image and apologized, saying it understood why the image was “deeply upsetting” and acknowledging, “This should not have happened.” I agree with one part of that statement wholeheartedly: It should not have happened. But saying that afterward does not answer the more important question of how it happened beforehand.

Similarly, Target recently removed a Halloween costume after criticism that its imagery evoked racist minstrel caricatures. Target itself acknowledged that the costume was offensive, said it should never have been part of its assortment, and specifically recognized the hurt caused to Black customers, employees, and partners. Again, how did it get there?

At What Point Does “Oversight” Become an Unbelievable Explanation?

This is where I struggle with the standard corporate apology. How many people looked at these images? How many meetings were held? How many emails were exchanged? How many proofs were reviewed? How many people signed off before the product or advertisement reached the public?

While I try to be careful about claiming to know the private intentions of people I do not know, and I cannot prove what was in the minds of the individuals responsible for either decision; it does cause me to question when imagery this racially charged survives multiple opportunities for someone to say, “Stop. Do you understand what this looks like?” From where I sit, consumers are justified in questioning whether simple ignorance is a credible explanation.

Indeed, the Converse controversy has prompted exactly these questions about corporate vetting and accountability. When these incidents happen repeatedly across corporate America, followed by remarkably similar apologies only after Black consumers and others point out the offense, I believe we have every right to ask a harder question: Was nobody aware, or did nobody care enough to stop it? For me, it becomes increasingly difficult to dismiss every occurrence as an innocent mistake. If companies want the public to reject the assumption that such imagery is intentional, then they must demonstrate through transparent accountability and meaningful changes to their review processes why that assumption is wrong.

The Larger National Climate Matters

I also believe these incidents cannot be completely separated from the racial and political climate of the country. Under the current Trump administration, the federal government has undertaken an explicit campaign against diversity, equity, and inclusion programs. The White House describes these actions as restoring fairness and eliminating discriminatory DEI practices. Critics, however, argue that some of these policies weaken institutions and programs designed to address racial inequity. The administration, for example, canceled hundreds of millions of dollars in teacher-training grants it characterized as supporting “divisive ideologies,” including DEI; a federal judge recently ruled that directive arbitrary and capricious and in violation of federal law.

In my opinion, we are living through a period in which some people appear increasingly comfortable expressing racial antagonism, mocking concerns about racism, or treating racial sensitivity as something society should simply abandon. I worry that the political assault on the language and institutions of diversity and inclusion can contribute to an atmosphere in which some people feel less compelled to consider how imagery, language, and decisions affect historically marginalized communities.

An Apology After the Damage Is Done Is Not Accountability

Corporate apologies have their place. A sincere apology is better than silence. But an apology does not erase an image once millions of people have seen it. It does not erase the history that image evokes. And it does not answer the fundamental question: Who approved it?

If a corporation truly wants to demonstrate that an offensive advertisement was an accident, then tell the public what failed. Explain the approval process. Tell us how many levels of review the material passed through. Explain why no one recognized the problem. Tell us specifically what will change. Otherwise, “we are sorry” begins to sound less like accountability and more like crisis-management language. Companies spend extraordinary amounts of money protecting their brands. They conduct market research, analyze consumer behavior, study demographics, test messaging, and obsess over the smallest details of how their products are presented. It is therefore reasonable for Black consumers to ask why that extraordinary attention to detail seems to disappear when it comes to imagery connected to some of the most horrific chapters of Black American history. We cannot keep accepting ignorance as the explanation after the damage has already been done.

The question is no longer simply whether these images are offensive. The deeper question is: How do they keep making it all the way through the process? And perhaps most importantly: Who was in the room—and who was not?

Who Taught You to Hate Yourself? Race, Identity, and the Internalization of Racism

Usually, when we hear the word “racism,” we think of something harmful that someone does to another person. We consider things like racism, unfair treatment, discrimination, and systems that make it difficult for some groups of people to do things.

    While racism can hurt people in obvious ways, it can also hurt people in less obvious ways: in their hearts. This is where the idea of “internalized racism” comes in handy. Internalized racism is what researchers call it when people from a racial group that has been previously pushed to the edges of society start to believe some of the negative messages, stereotypes, and assumptions that society spreads about that group. For example, James and colleagues (2025) say that internalized racism is when someone believes, acts, or has stereotypes that support the idea that the dominant racial group is better than their own racial group.

    Simply put, if people tell you something negative about yourself enough times, you might start to believe it. If the voice from the outside turns into the voice from the inside, being racist inside means that oppression doesn’t have to come from the oppressor’s voice alone. When Black people hear negative messages about being Black, they can change how they see themselves and each other, what they think they can accomplish, and even what they think is beautiful, smart, professional, or worthy.

Consider all the information people get over the course of their lives.

• Who is usually shown to be successful?

• Who is shown to be dangerous?

• Which way of talking is thought to be “proper”?

• What kind of hair does a “professional” wear?

• Which skin tones are most often thought of as beautiful?

• Who is thought to be smart before they even speak?

• Who needs to show that they belong?

    It’s not necessary to say these things out loud for them to have an effect. They can be talked about on TV, in movies, in ads, on social media, in schools, at work, in institutions, and in everyday conversations. It can be hard to separate repeated messages from your own views over time.

More Than Low Self-Esteem

    Having low self-esteem is not the same thing as having internalized racism. There is a direct link between it and race and the racial messages a person has heard from others. For example, a Black person might consciously reject racist ideas but still believe some stereotypes about other Black people without realizing it. Some people might think that certain hairstyles are less professional, that a certain way of speaking makes someone less smart, or that lighter skin is more attractive. Some people may even feel like they need to stay away from things that society has labeled as “too Black.” Such behavior is one reason why it can be hard to spot latent racism. It doesn’t always say that it is racist. It sounds like personal choice sometimes. There are times when it sounds like sense. It sounds like “That’s how the world works” some of the time. It sounds like our own voice sometimes.

The Risk of Looking at Yourself Through Someone Else’s Eyes

    W. E. B. Du Bois gave us a powerful way to consider this battle more than one hundred years ago. Du Bois wrote about “double consciousness” in “The Souls of Black Folk” (1903). This is the feeling of seeing yourself through your own eyes as well as the eyes of a society that has historically seen Black people through prejudice and stereotypes. Imagine carrying around two mirrors all the time. One shows what you think of yourself. The other shows what people think you are. When the second mirror becomes stronger than the first, that’s when things get dangerous.

    When people keep looking at themselves through the eyes of those who don’t value them, others' opinions can start to change how they feel about who they are on the inside. “How does society see me?” is no longer the only question. “Is society right about me?” can become stuck in your head. That question is much more dangerous.

Racism that we feel inside can change how we see each other

    This conversation has another important part. Internalized racism doesn’t just change how people see themselves. It can also change how they feel about other people of the same race. People in general have negative ideas about Black people, and sometimes these ideas are repeated and strengthened in Black groups. We can judge what another Black person says. Hair. Color of skin. Neighborhood. Learn more. Clothes. A job. Name. Thoughts on politics. Or even how that person chooses to show they are Black. We might not even be aware that we are measuring each other by standards set by a racial order. One of the worst things about internalized racism is that people who have been oppressed can unintentionally support some of the same ideas that were used against them.

How It Changes What We Think Is Possible

    One of the biggest risks may be having high hopes. When people hear over and over that people who look like them are less smart, less capable, more dangerous, less skilled, or less likely to succeed, what happens? Those words can change what people think is possible. If a child doesn’t see many people of color in movies or TV shows as scientists, professors, doctors, business leaders, writers, or intellectuals, they might start to think that only certain types of people should be in those roles. People’s internalized messages can affect the jobs they apply for, the chances they think they earn, how they respond to authority, how they judge other Black people, and whether they think some places are “for people like us.” That’s why representation is important, but it’s not enough on its own. We also need to look at the beliefs underlying the pictures.

Realizing that internalized racism is not about blaming others

    It’s not fair to use conversations about internalized racism as an excuse to blame Black people for the effects of racism. In fact, the opposite. When people grow up surrounded by racial stereotypes and hierarchies, it’s not surprising that some of those messages stick with them. What we do once we see them is the more important question. We can question the ideas we were taught. Instead of repeating stereotypes, we can fight them. We can talk about the reasons why we consider some traits more attractive, professional, smart, or acceptable than others. We can show kids more examples of Black people who are successful, beautiful, smart, good at leading, creative, and kind. The most important thing is that we can learn to distinguish between who we really are and what culture says we are.

Which Mirror Should We Trust?

    Internalized racism is a particularly striking example of how powerful messages can be. Words are strong. Pictures can be strong. The things we expect have power. Having a voice has power. Again and again, it has power. If people in a society hear racist messages over and over again, those messages can become part of how people see themselves and each other. That’s why changing laws and policies isn’t enough to fight racism, even though they are crucial. It’s also important to question the beliefs, standards of worth, assumptions, and stereotypes that racial injustice leaves behind. More than 100 years ago, Du Bois helped us understand how difficult it is to see ourselves through others' eyes. The idea is still incredibly important today. The challenge could be learning to tell when we are looking in the wrong mirror. Then we need to have the guts to take down that mirror. People who refuse to let a society based on racial order decide our value, identity, potential, or worth are one of the most powerful ways to fight racism.

References

Du Bois, W. E. B. (1903). The souls of Black folk: Essays and sketches. A. C. McClurg & Co.

James, D., Yu, E. C., Wang, Y., & Moeyaert, M. (2025). Internalized racism and personal self-esteem among ethnoracial minoritized groups: A meta-analytic review. Psychological bulletin, 151(12), 1448–1485. https://doi.org/10.1037/bul0000508

Folks, We MUST Vote on November 5, 2024

At this writing, there are sixteen days left. Please make sure you intend to take your souls to the polls. 

What Is Our Children Learning From Our Leaders?

 

In general, the role of a leader is to coach, guide, and inspire others. They motivate teams through challenging times and guide individuals through their career progressions. A leader manages individuals to keep teams aligned and working toward shared goals. They foster a collaborative culture and lead by example.

When I Googled for a definition of leadership, the answer above appeared as one of my choices. The last three words in the description caught my attention, "lead by example," which is why I am writing this post. As an educator, I am genuinely concerned about the examples set for our children. I see children every day exhibiting the same behaviors as some of our leaders on the national, state, and local levels, and quite frankly, there is not much that I can say to them because they are mimicking what they see in the news from people who have the title of leader. Just this week alone, while scrolling through a couple of news apps, I saw stories of city council members threatening each other and nearly getting into a physical altercation. In fact, the city councilman who had left his seat and towered over one of his council colleagues shoved a police officer trying to intervene. In another story from a different city, a city councilwoman's husband and son entered into a physical altercation with a citizen who had made commentary during the public portion of the meeting about his wife, the councilwoman. Not to mention the circus surrounding the twice impeached and four-time indicted former 45th president of the United States.

I have students who refuse to take accountability for their actions, just like the leaders in the news before them. I have students who believe the only way to solve an issue is by fighting or physical altercations, just like the leaders who are in the news before them. I have students who believe that being verbally abusive is the way to solve a conflict, just like the leaders in the news before them. I have students who believe cheating, lying, and stealing are okay, just like the leaders in the news before them. 

The definition above states that leaders are to lead by example. Leaders are supposed to set an example for those whom they lead. Set an example for those who follow them. What type of example are our leaders setting for our children and our adults, for that matter? 

As I pursue my fourth academic degree focusing on leadership and social justice, examples such as those mentioned above are not good. I am studying all leadership styles, and none involve physical fighting, cheating, lying, being verbally abusive, stealing, etc., as part of any leadership characteristics. 

In most instances when we experience leaders who are leading in the opposite direction of morals and ethics, they are usually looking out for their own self-interests, and their followers/people are pawns who are being used by these types of leaders to further their own agenda and not really what is in the best interest of the people. Think about it: the chart above shows charges against the most powerful person in the free world. This individual was actually leading the country. Sadly, there are still a lot of people who are OK with this corruption and continue to support it. In fact, many would like for this individual to lead the country again. Who have we become? To heck with morals and ethics, let hatred, greed, and self-centeredness abide.  

Our children will be the biggest losers when all is said and done. They are growing up thinking that one can treat people any old kind of way and get away with it. They are growing up normalizing abusive behavior based on what they see our so-called leaders doing. Why should our children feel they need to be held accountable when the adults around them do not take accountability for their actions? 

Leadership is not what I read about or witnessed in the news or social media this week. Let me rephrase that it is leadership, bad leadership. Terrible leadership. 

 

 

Betrayed and He Had Done Nothing Wrong

Luke 22:3-4
3 Then Satan entered Judas, called Iscariot, one of the Twelve. 4 And Judas went to the chief priests and the officers of the temple guard and discussed with them how he might betray Jesus.

Matthew 21:8-11
8 A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. 9 The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” 10 When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, “Who is this?” 11 The crowds answered, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Matthew 27:21-23
21 “Which of the two do you want me to release to you?” asked the governor. “Barabbas,” they answered. 22 “What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called the Messiah?” Pilate asked. They all answered, “Crucify him!” 23 “Why? What crime has he committed?” asked Pilate. But they shouted all the louder, “Crucify him!”

Put yourself in Jesus’ tunic and sandals for minute….. All He did during his time on earth was to do what was right; do what was good, teach, heal, perform miracles, uplift people and make life better for others. And yet, He finds himself betrayed after having done nothing wrong. He was imprisoned unjustly and some of the same folks who were shouting “Hosanna to the Son of David” in Matthew 21 were now some of the same folks shouting “Crucify Him” in Matthew 27. Think about it; it was one of his Cabinet Members (Judas) who sold him out (cheaply I might add, only 30 pieces of silver??).

If you have ever suffered any type of betrayal, then you have an inkling of what Jesus must have felt as He was indeed human just like you and me. He felt the same emotions as we do depending upon what we are experiencing in life. Jesus wasn't just a godly person with great spiritual insights, nor was He only a great moral and spiritual teacher. He was more than these, because He was both fully human and fully divine. Think of it: God became a man, and that Man was Jesus Christ. As the Bible says, "God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him" (Colossians 1:19). Therefore, He could feel hurt, sadness, betrayal, happiness, gladness, excitement and any other emotions that we experience today. I don’t know about you, but I know what it feels like to be betrayed when you have done nothing wrong, so does the King family, the family of Malcolm X and Nelson Mandela and in some respects I can imagine the Kennedy family knows the feelings as well.

Now herein lies the difference between us and Jesus. His ability to truly and sincerely FORGIVE his betrayers. If we are following Christ for real; denying ourselves and developing ourselves, we must learn to let go and forgive our betrayers just like Jesus did. As his betrayers were dividing His garments and casting lots, Jesus was praying, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.”  I don’t know about you; in all transparency, I am still trying to get there. Yes, I have needed to be forgiven and there are folks who have wronged me who I must forgive if I am going to follow Christ for real. I don’t think I’m the only one. So, as we go into this Lenten season, let us seek to forgive others as we need to also be forgiven.

Prayer:
Father forgive us because in some instances we know not what we are doing and help us to forgive others just as we have just asked for Your forgiveness. Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. In the name of Jesus, Amen.

WHAT DEPRESSION LOOKS LIKE - IT CAN BE HIDDEN

Am I the only one struck by the collage below? I know I cannot be. When I saw this photo come across one of my social media platforms, I was deeply moved because I know firsthand the damage that depression can do. In fact, I can add some up close and personal photos to this collage.

I’ve seen the destruction of marriages from depression and I’ve watched my sister battle with health issues that incessantly feed her depression monster. Depression and mental illness are real and they are deadly as evidenced by the photo above. All four of these people had everything to live for and yet each took his/her own life. What struck me in the photo and I am sure the reason the creator of the collage chose these particular pictures is the fact that they are all smiling and looking oh so happy, hence the title WHAT DEPRESSION LOOKS LIKE. People don’t fake depression, they fake being okay. Think about that……… One of the reasons that depression is so hard to detect is the sufferer looks and acts just like someone who is not suffering from depression on the outside while on the inside they are all torn up. They are in pain. They are hurting and covering up the hurt. Childhood traumas, past relationship traumas and the list can go on. The four people in this photo were all celebrities in their own rights. To the average Joe and Jane, they had it all. The fame, the fortune, the looks, the money, the families, the everything and yet it was not enough to keep them alive. In each instance, family and friends did not know that their loved one was suffering in the manner that he/she was until the suicide occurred. Until it was too late. Very few signs to no signs were seen. Many relatives expressed how the depression was hidden very well from them by their loved one.

I choose to use my various platforms (talk radio show, podcast and blogs) to spread awareness about mental illness, depression and other health issues such as cancer. If you are struggling in any way, please seek the help that you need. There is no shame in the seeking of help game. Four people who had everything to live for, who I am sure had bright futures are now gone due to self inflicted death as a result of suffering in silence. 

HELP IS AVAILABLE.

The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) is the agency within the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services that leads public health efforts to advance the behavioral health of the nation. SAMHSA’s mission is to lead public health and service delivery efforts that promote mental health, prevent substance misuse, and provide treatments and supports to foster recovery while ensuring equitable access and better outcomes.

The National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH) is the lead federal agency for research on mental disorders. NIMH is one of the 27 Institutes and Centers that make up the National Institutes of Health (NIH), the largest biomedical research agency in the world. NIH is part of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services (HHS).

I pray that not another family is destroyed by depression. Not another marriage, not another life taken, not another heart broken, not another silent sufferer. Please seek the help that you need if you feel yourself struggling within. Find me at marcamedley.com