by David C. Miller, Ph.D.
Growing up in the Black community, I know firsthand the challenges young Black males face over demonstrating their toughness and their perspectives on manhood and masculinity. From climbing the highest tree and jumping off to playing tackle football in the alley, my male friends and I engaged in extreme sports that often resulted in injuries. These activities, seemingly just harmless fun, were early social Darwinism experiments that proved our physical prowess while separating the weak from the strong. However, we did not realize the potential long-term impact on our health at the time, which is why it is now more crucial than ever for us to prioritize our emotional and physical well-being.
Unfortunately, those experiences impacted our ability to express our true feelings and manage our emotions as we age. Crying was unacceptable; as boys, we were taught tears were for girls. These draconian definitions of masculinity and emotional suppression not only confused us as we transitioned into adulthood, but they also hindered our growth, forcing many of us to be emotionally unavailable. Moreover, they compromised our understanding of the power of healthy, loving relationships. It’s time to break free from these constraints and embrace our emotions, for they are a vital part of our well-being.
By the time I reached maturity, and after reflecting on the various transitions from adolescence to manhood, I understood that managing and expressing our emotions is critical to optimal health and vitality. As a father, I have taken it upon myself to prioritize sharing my emotions and vulnerability with my children. Doing so sets an example for them and shapes their understanding of masculinity and emotional health. Our ability to exercise our powers to activate emotional intelligence, break the cycle of emotional suppression, and express ourselves in healthy ways provides counter-narratives of stereotypes associated with Black masculinity.
For Black men, the need to manage our emotions and take an aggressive approach to our mental and physical health is not just crucial, it’s urgent. The state of Black men’s health is, in many cases, an alarming public health issue that is ignored by most segments of society. Stress, poor diets, excessive alcohol, and smoking, coupled with a survival mentality, are just a few variables taking a heavy toll on Black men. It is a stark reality that many Black men are succumbing to preventable diseases, often at an early age. This is not a distant threat but instead a pressing crisis demanding our immediate attention.
Over the last few years, I have experienced the devastating losses of numerous high school classmates, a host of neighborhood friends, three male cousins, my mother, my brother, and my father. These losses have been, at times, overwhelming and humbling and have deeply compromised my faith and belief system. The pain of these losses isn’t unique to me but a shared experience among many in Black communities across the country. Watching my brother and father pass away was extremely difficult due to the intense suffering they experienced in the last few weeks and days of their lives, respectively. Before my brother passed away at the ripe age of fifty-five, we spent many intimate moments discussing life and unfulfilled dreams. Unfortunately, my dream of taking him to Ghana was short-lived. A few years after my brother became an ancestor, I took some clips of hair from his beard, which I obtained while he was still with us, and I deposited them in the Atlantic Ocean while performing a “libations” ritual on the shoreline of Cape Coast in Ghana.
Regrettably, like many Black men, my brother harbored significant concerns about Western medical models and avoided regular checkups and screenings that could have prolonged his life. Many fathers, husbands and brothers would rather take their chances hitting the gym occasionally instead of developing a relationship with a primary care physician and scheduling and keeping regular appointments. Regular checkups are not just a formality; they’re a crucial part of our health journey. They are our lifeline, our best defense against preventable diseases. Regularly, I ask Black men in my networks the following questions:
- How do we convince Black men in their forties and fifties to get annual physicals?
- How do we increase public health messages focused on encouraging Black men fifty and older to make prostate and colonoscopy screenings a priority?
- What strategies can ensure Black men focus more on self-care and rest?
Diabetes, hypertension, strokes and other preventable diseases present a dangerous landscape for Black men in the U.S. According to U.S. mortality data, Black men have some of the worst health outcomes compared to other racial groups. For Black men over fifty, these health concerns spell grave consequences if not properly monitored and treated.
The extreme levels of grief and loss navigated by a significant percentage of urban Black males have created a host of mental health challenges including anxiety, depression, managing hypervigilance, a lifetime of traumatic experiences and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
In conclusion, we must redefine what it means to be a strong Black man. We must embrace our emotions and vulnerabilities and teach young Black males to do the same. Doing so can create a healthier, more compassionate community that supports and uplifts Black fathers, men and boys.
Following are a few vital recommendations for Black men:
- Schedule regular checkups. Develop a relationship with your primary care physician, ask questions when you have concerns and stay informed about your health).
- Know your numbers. If your blood pressure numbers are more than 130/80, that is considered high blood pressure, or hypertension).
- Daily physical activity helps reduce the risk of chronic conditions, including obesity, heart disease and Diabetes).
- Talk to your family. Your medical conditions should not be a secret to family members.
This is a call to action, a wake-up call for us to shift our mindset and take our health seriously. We must make the necessary changes to stop preventable deaths from happening. It’s time to prioritize our health and well-being, and that begins with each of us. We can change the narrative, redefine what it means to be strong Black men and create a healthier, more compassionate community that supports and uplifts Black fathers, men and boys.
Dr. David C. Miller is a scholar-activist who focuses on the health and wellness of Black fathers, men and boys. He is the author of “Dare To Be King: What If the Prince Lives?”
