The President's Message 7/7/25

“I found that with depression, one of the most important things you can realize is that you’re not alone. You’re not the first to go through it, you’re not gonna be the last to go through it,” — Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson

Mental illness does not discriminate, but the stigma surrounding it often does. For many in Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) communities, the path to healing is made more difficult by cultural silence, lack of access to resources, and the internal pressure to remain strong no matter what. July—BIPOC Mental Health Awareness Month—is a time to acknowledge those barriers and hold space for honest conversations that affirm the reality of mental health struggles within our communities.

Dwayne Johnson’s words speak to a powerful truth: when you’re battling depression, anxiety, or trauma, you can feel incredibly isolated. But you are not alone. And in BIPOC communities where strength and resilience are celebrated, it’s equally important to celebrate vulnerability, softness, and the right to seek help.

For many, faith plays a foundational role in navigating life’s hardships. Prayer, scripture, and spiritual community can provide deep comfort, hope, and guidance. However, it’s important to understand that while prayer is essential for some, it may not be the only answer. Being grounded in faith doesn’t always absolve the physiological and psychological symptoms of mental illness.

Mental health struggles—like clinical depression, PTSD, or bipolar disorder—can require more than prayer and willpower. Just as we wouldn’t pray away a broken bone or untreated diabetes, we must not minimize the importance of therapy, medication, or support groups when it comes to our minds. Seeking professional help does not mean a lack of faith—it means taking full advantage of the resources available to care for the whole self: body, mind, and spirit.

In many BIPOC families, mental health is often a taboo subject. Phrases like “just pray about it,” “tough it out,” or “what happens in this house stays in this house” have discouraged generations from speaking openly about their pain. This silence can be especially harmful to young people and those already living with undiagnosed mental health conditions.

But change starts with conversation. We must begin telling the truth about how we feel, about what we carry, and about what healing actually looks like. It looks like therapy. It looks like prayer. It looks like rest. It looks like support from people who understand.

This BIPOC Mental Health Awareness Month, let’s commit to breaking cycles of silence and shame. Let’s remind ourselves and each other that seeking help is not weakness—it is courage. It is strength.

You’re not alone. You never were. And with the right support, you never will be.