Young, Gifted, Black…and Exhausted

Three generations ago, my great-grandmother Helen left this earth after spending much of her life in a mental hospital. Today, her great-granddaughter is the founder and CEO of one of the largest wellness collectives for the Black community, Transparent & Black. What started as a small wellness page on Instagram over six years ago has blossomed into an organization that’s reached over five million Black people worldwide. Alongside our community specifically dedicated to Black women, Transparent Black Girl, and Black men, Transparent Black Guy, we’ve led meditations at Coachella, partnered with ASICS, spoken on panels at Nike, and created viral content that’s reached the likes of SZA, India.Arie, Taraji P. Henson, Tina Knowles, Viola Davis, and Kerry Washington. I never thought that my passion for community building and my journey navigating my way out of depression in college would get me here, but it has.

And yet, despite those accomplishments, I don’t know if, as a culture, we’ve had enough honest dialogue around the fatigue of Black excellence. No matter your industry, as a Black person, you feel the pressure to succeed at all costs. We were all taught those famous words uttered on Scandal by Rowan Pope: “You have to be twice as good as them to get half of what they have.” I don’t know if we ever stopped to think about what it would feel like on the other side of achieving; we just wanted to get there, to make our people proud. To show them that their sacrifices were worth it.

Often, but especially during Black History Month, there are times when I feel exhausted by this idea of being young, gifted, and Black, to be this example of Black excellence not just in my industry but to my little cousins, my elders, and the people I grew up with. I’m proud of myself, and I know that my family is proud of me, too. Still, in rooms filled with my peers, I can’t help noticing one thing that is very clear: We are achieving, but we’re in a constant state of burnout, and we say this for fear of judgment—because who wouldn’t want to be where we are?

About a month ago, I talked about all of this with a friend and colleague in the wellness industry, Michael Tennant. He’s the author of the book The Power of Empathy and owner of the company Curiosity Lab. We first connected during the pandemic, when we were in the struggle together. We were two Black business owners and creatives who were exhausted but had to keep going because of our unfortunate reality: We were receiving business opportunities we’d never gotten before due to the resurgence of the Black Lives Matter movement following the killings of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor.

Can you imagine being stuck indoors in fear of a deadly virus and seeing people who look like you murdered on your phone, and simultaneously having companies suddenly want to invest thousands of dollars in your business? I felt so many emotions but had little time to process them because we now had financial support and reach to the masses. So we kept working. We hosted events for the well-being of Black people free of charge to support them through the entire pandemic, and we kept building.

Four years later, that support has dwindled. We’re still making great impact, but brands aren’t as invested as they were in 2020. The discussions of reparations, systemic change, and consistent support aren’t so urgent. Michael and I discussed that on our call and shared how we were doing overall, not as business owners but as people who were the first in our families to make an impact on this level. We also shared our feelings ahead of Black History Month, as it’s often a time when brands reach out to support our efforts.

The Black History Month I know today is quite different from that of my childhood. I have fond memories of the church I grew up in, the same church in Newark where Whitney Houston was born and raised and taught to sing. Every year, people recited poems with pride, speaking the words of Maya Angelou, Langston Hughes, and Nikki Giovanni. My aunt was the leader of the youth ministry, and I vividly remember her telling us children to speak louder and prouder during the presentation. My mother and the church taught me what my suburban school didn’t about how creative, extraordinary, and gifted we truly are. Every year, she’d drive me to every Black History Month event she could find; I recall her signing me up to dress up as Madam C.J. Walker and read her biography at the public library in a presentation. She wanted her baby girl to know just how remarkable we were, how remarkable we are.

I’ve been thinking about all the greats in history who fought silent battles that ended their careers or led to untimely deaths: Whitney Houston, David Ruffin, the DeBarge family, Michael Jackson, Prince, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Frankie Lymon, Billie Holiday, Don Cornelius, and many more. I’ve thought of their battles with addiction, abuse, childhood trauma, and pain, and how they didn’t know to prioritize their well-being in the ways that we now do because, in many cases, they were the first in many rooms they entered in.

The theme for Black History Month this year is African Americans and the Arts, and I couldn’t think of a more opportune time to focus on the well-being of Black artists and creatives. In a world that holds Black excellence in the highest regard, no matter the weight, I want you to choose yourself.

If you’re struggling with your creativity or any aspect of wellness or need support to persevere, I want you to engage in this meditative practice with me.

A guided meditation for Black creatives, entrepreneurs, and others who subscribe to Black excellence

• Sit comfortably and take your first deep breath, and as you breathe, I want you to breathe in creativity and breathe out anything that tells you that your work does not matter. Whether your work has been seen by millions or just your immediate family, whether you have created something extraordinary yesterday or five years ago—your creativity matters, and so do you.

• As you breathe in, notice any areas of your body where you’re experiencing pain, and send deep love to them. In order to meditate, we often assume that we have to sit with our legs crossed, but allow your body to release, and whether your seated position is crossed or uncrossed, remember that your comfort is what’s most important.

• When inhaling, I want you to breathe in the healing that is your birthright and exhale thoughts that would attempt to tell you that you don’t have time to prioritize your mental health. Exhale any and every thought that tells you that all that’s important is your work. You come first; your mental health is your priority. Your healing is your priority. Your rest is your priority.

• Use this time to quiet the thoughts in your mind and focus only on the present. Trauma and life overall have a way of sitting us in the past, or the future—surrender to the here and now, your needs in this current moment, and what you need to live a life that feels good, beyond your accolades and accomplishments.

• After you’ve sat with yourself, your thoughts, and your needs as they relate to wellness, open your eyes and take inventory of how you feel. Commit to this practice of meditation and stillness and create a sustainable routine where your well-being works in tandem with your work.

You are more than any level of success that you could ever reach. Keep that knowledge with you and commit to wellness; your life could very well depend on it. Happy Black History Month.