There is a deep and sacred legacy of storytelling within African American history. It is not simply a cultural expression, it is a form of preservation. Through oral traditions; history, education, resistance, and empowerment have been passed down for generations.

Long before written words were accessible to all, storytelling broke barriers. It gave voice and identity to the unheard. It nurtured the soul and solidified the resilience of a people who have endured much, but never surrendered their truth.

In West African tradition, “the griot,” serves as the living archive of culture. A griot is not only a storyteller but also could be a historian, poet, and musician. Through music, spoken word, and poetry, they preserve the essence of a people. In many ways, our modern storytellers, activists, artists, social workers ministers, therapists, and community leaders, carry on this sacred role. They ensure that the truth doesn’t fade, that our pain is not ignored, and that our strength is not erased.

This year’s 2025 theme for Bebe Moore Campbell National Minority Mental Health Awareness Month, “In Every Story, There’s Strength” resonates deeply. It reminds us that our stories, both painful and powerful, are also instruments of healing. They are declarations of survival, resistance, and connection. To tell one’s story is to say, “I am still here. And I matter.”

As a psychologist, a faith-based individual, and an African American woman, I reflect on this theme with deep personal conviction. Our communities face unique and often invisible mental health challenges. The stories matter. The burdens of these challenges are compounded by historical trauma, systemic inequities, cultural stigma, and a society that often requires our productivity before it acknowledges our humanity.

To truly honor this month, we must do more than raise awareness, we must take action. That means prioritizing the mental well-being of underrepresented groups. That means advocating for access, representation, and safe spaces. And that means listening, truly listening to the stories of those who have been marginalized, silenced, or mislabeled.

We live in a time when basic truths are being challenged and progress is being rolled back. Initiatives meant to uplift underrepresented voices are under attack. The stories of BIPOC individuals are being politicized, sanitized, or even ignored. And yet, the stories persist and they thrive.

We must also name a painful truth: People of color are often only valued when we are productive. This external standard of worth has caused many to suffer in silence when mental health issues arise. Depression, anxiety, trauma—these are not signs of weakness. They are signs of humanity. And survival, particularly in a system that devalues your existence, is not weakness. It is resilience.

Let us be clear: Mental health, mental wellness is not a one-month issue. It is a daily necessity. It is not a luxury or an afterthought. It is an act of resistance, a sacred right, and a pathway to liberation.

So how do we protect our mental health in a world that sometimes feels like it is attacking our very existence? We return to what has always sustained us: our stories. Our rhythm. Our spiritual practices. Our community. Our truth.

In doing so we remember the statistics that demand our attention:

• Black and African American adults are more likely to receive misdiagnoses such as schizophrenia over mood disorders, compared to others with the same symptoms.

– National Library of Medicine

• Between 2001 and 2020, suicide rates among Black youth ages 10 to 19 increased by 144% for boys and up to 300% for girls.

– Journal of the American Academy of Child & Adolescent Psychiatry, 2022

These numbers are more than statistics. They are stories—unfinished stories that demand our voice, our presence, and our effort. Each number is a person, connected to families, neighbors, friends, colleagues and much more! Mental health is a necessary for all. In the words of the World Health Organization: “There is no health without mental health.”

This July, and every month that follows, may we honor our stories. May we create spaces where the stories can be shared safely and received with care. And may we never forget: In every story, there’s strength. May we be the griot in our communities. Because storytelling is healing. And in telling it—we heal, we rise, we promote wellness and we keep our legacy alive.

Andrea Rodgers works for Minority Mental Health Awareness.