Guest Blog: My family, my journey and #BIPOCMentalHealthMonth

By Amanda M. Santiago, NAMI Chicago ambassador

My multigenerational Puerto Rican family called me the “shy one”. I shied away from the camera, from events, meeting people, and public speaking. There were a lot of emotions and thoughts behind it. Fear. Anxiety. But I didn’t have words to describe any of it, and no one in my family spoke about mental health. Even if I had tried to have that conversation, I assumed they wouldn’t understand.

I learned about mental health for the first time when I studied psychology in college at the University of Michigan. I began to understand my own intensifying emotions and behaviors, and was able to start addressing them.

Amanda’s family, celebrating her graduation from University of Michigan.

I also found myself talking more and more with other BIPOC peers about mental health issues. Everyone’s families avoided the topic, and it was seen as normal to be silent about it. But I wanted that dynamic to change. It needed to.

I got excited about the idea, and how I could start that change in my own family. But home during breaks, the feeling was not always mutual. I wanted to share my experiences and knowledge, but some relatives were not very accepting. I started hearing things like:

“Mental health isn’t real.”

“Try to not think about it.”

“Amanda, those thoughts are evil.”

“Why do you need to talk to a therapist if you can talk to family for free?”

That last one bugged me the most, especially since I had just chosen a career path in nothing other than – Clinical Psychology.

So I got my degree and decided to be part of changing the narrative. I began working and volunteering throughout Chicago, facilitating mental health discussions with youth and offering support for people struggling with both physical and mental health. I spent time and personal conversations with my own family, sharing and listening.

I learned it’s often easier to have these conversations with younger generations, in my work in the field, than it is at home. But I have seen some change in my own family. Some relatives now express their emotions, read self-help books, and even seek therapy. Others are still clinging to the stigma.

There is a lot more work to be done. As I continue to study and learn, I want to keep advocating for mental health care in BIPOC communities that don’t have it. I want to create spaces for youth to have dialogues about mental health, and to give them opportunities to talk about it in the classroom—something I didn’t have. And I want families to normalize having, and talking about, their emotions. Families from every background, including mine.