Welcome to Soft Launch, a column by Elyse Fox on mental health and wellbeing in a world that often feels anything but soft and cushy. In this installment of the column, Elyse redefines Black history.
Since childhood, I have loved basking in the milestones and achievements of past icons. Soaking in the inspiration of my grade school Black History lessons (though they were watered down) helped me believe anything is achievable. Now, I’m galvanized not only by the victories of past pioneers, but I also take note of who’s creating Black history today.
For many, It’s abundantly clear what impact Black people have graciously and effortlessly granted the world. Our culture has been stolen, recycled, and showboated with little (if any) credit given, then tossed when profit strategies and trends shift. Watching this happen over and over can make you feel as if you’re a product to be commodified, or as if you have seasonal value. But when you look at our contributions to culture and to the world at large, it’s clear that Black people have inherent value all year long. That’s why we should all remember that doing our best is enough, that doing our best each day is Black history.
Speaking from the perspective of a first generation daughter raised by a single Caribbean mother from St. Kitts, my grades dictated the quality of joy I was able to indulge in as a child. The consistent pressure of knowing the consequences of being less than 100% were heavy. The journey to achieving Black exceptionalism followed me to adulthood. Black excellence meant that being more poised, articulate, and accepted into spaces where non-Black people were the majority meant that I had “made it.” In my early adulthood, I did succeed by these standards, but I was lonelier than I’ve ever been. I quickly realized that fulfilling others’ expectations couldn’t be my priority — my mindset had to shift. Discovering what success was to me meant slowing down, setting my own standards, and not giving in to the pressure to over perform just to prove my worth. Today I find peace in knowing that doing my best is much better on my mental health than competing to be the best.
“The first two words that popped into my head are burnout and sustainability,” Ebony Robinson, LMHC, a mental health clinician and psychotherapist based in New York, says about the effects that internal competition can have on our mental health. “We want to make sure that we're doing things that are sustainable and not doing the most and then leading to burnout. I think a lot of us do that because one, just culturally growing up, we're really taught to ‘go hard or go home’ or if we don't work or overwork, we won't make it anywhere. Many of us aren't equipped with the tools to learn about having gears around how we engage on a day to day and how we exchange energy.”
Protecting my energy and taking care of myself is Black history because I’m resisting this mindset that I have to conform to the societal expectations around Black success. One of the ways I do that is by asking myself, “am I adding any pressures or unnecessary timelines onto myself that don’t exist?” If the answer is yes, I write down what needs to be done and rank each task from most important to least. From there, I divide the tasks up each day and do what I can.
I’m taking control of what I want my legacy to be at my own pace. For some it may be radical, but to me this definition feels like home. If you’re looking for a more sustainable way to define success, Robinson recommends sitting still for a minute: “Take moments of pause to just sit and do nothing because when we give ourselves those moments — and it doesn't have to be long, two to five minutes goes a really long way to just be still — we gain clarity in that moment, we're able to connect to our breath in that moment. I think that when we do that for ourselves more regularly, we get a little bit more centered and grounded.”
Black people, let February be the start of you leaving the expectations of the world in the past. Move in your own groove.
