The Game Plan - Episode 7: Growing Into Gardens
The Game Plan - Episode 7: Growing Into Gardens
On this episode of the Game Plan, Eric is in conversation with two esteemed experts in the Black mental health space, Kelechi Ubozoh and Yolo Akili Robinson. Together, the three break down generational differences in perspectives on mental health, discuss shifting narratives around Black masculinity, and unpack the impacts of racism on the psyches of Black people. We’re honored to have this deep dive just in time for Black History Month; it's a conversation full of heavy truths that need to be aired as well as joy, levity, and hope.
Content Warning: There is discussion of suicide at 19:27-19:42 and 30:08-30:50. There is mention of suicide at 9:07-9:11 and at 31:03-31:10. If you are struggling, you are not alone, and support is there for you. Call or text 988, anytime.
Links:
- We've Been Too Patient: Voices from Radical Mental Health, by Kelechi Ubozoh
- Martyr Nurturing vs. Healing Centered Nurturing
Video Transcript
[Triumphant Instrumental Music]
Voiceover:
The Game Plan is a production of Disability Rights California, a space to strategize, organize, and posterize for the future of the disability rights movement. For more information on our work, please visit us at disabilityrightsca.org.
Eric Harris:
Welcome to another great episode of the Game Plan with Disability Rights California. We have two wonderful guests. This is the second time that we've had two guests in one episode. So we're really, really excited to get this one started. We have Kelechi Ubozoh and Yolo Akili Robinson. And really, really thrilled for this conversation to talk about black mental health. Talk about some of the issues and things that they work on, and what they're looking forward to in 2026. Some of the things that bring them joy in this work and bring them hope in this work. So, we're going to go ahead and get started first, with just giving both Kelechi and Yolo an opportunity to introduce themselves. We'll be sure to share out y'all's bios and make sure that folks have access to your websites. But Kelechi, I'll go ahead and let you get started. Just telling everybody a little bit about yourself.
Kelechi Ubozoh:
My name is Kelechi Ubozoh I am a Nigerian-American based in Oakland, Ohlone land. For the last over a decade or so. And I'm someone who has been deeply impacted by mental health. I live with a mental health condition. And I co-edited a book with my really great friend L.D. Green, called We've Been Too Patient: Voices from Radical Mental Health really to share the perspectives of what happens to people when we're put away. And, and how the mental health system actually has been harmful to black and indigenous people of color, queer and trans folks and what what we want instead. And currently I'm doing a lot of fun research. I work with young people, who always keep me on my toes and remind me how old I am. And, I have a considerable amount of work in suicide prevention and trying to raise the conversation in the black community about suicide prevention as a suicide attempt survivor. So, writer, researcher, facilitator, human. That's me.
Eric:
Love it. Love it. Thank you so much, Kelechi. You do it all. Amazing. So appreciate you being here. Yolo, can you, give a little bit of background on yourself? Yolo Akili Robinson: Absolutely. So, first of all, always excited to be in conversation with Kelechi. Who is amazing and an inspiration and excited to talk to you, Eric. My name is Yolo Akili Robinson. Pronouns are he and they. I am born, I am a from a family that was born in South Florida, Fort Lauderdale. That has deep southern, Georgia, Florida, Caribbean roots. I'm currently wearing a Tom and Jerry sweater, which is tan colored. You can judge, you can judge my fashion outfit choices. And I wearing a stone called larimar around my neck, as well as a symbol of Atabey who is a Taino cemi who represents freshwater, birth and many different things. My background, is I'm currently the executive director of BEAM the Black Emotional Mental Health Collective, as well as a lead wellness practitioner.
My purpose in this work for me is to continue to carry on the lineage of community and grassroots wellness that has kept our folks alive for generations. It is to refine our skills and tools of the big mamas, the barbers, the pastors, the religious and spiritual leaders, even the candy ladies. It is to hold and and and hold sacred and celebrate the healing rituals that we retain and still possess from our West African ancestors, our indigenous ancestors. And my work experience in the past has been doing that work, but also doing a lot of work, with men who are abusive. We're doing a lot of work with the, people who are living with HIV and AIDS, around the intersection of mental health and wellness. I am myself, a person who's navigated mental health, throughout my, journey and has been a little bit resistant to diagnostic frameworks that have a pretty rigid and maybe visceral critique of the DSM and pathology based mental health. But, that's a little bit about me.
Eric:
Wow, appreciate that Yolo. And I know you, you mentioned, you know, being in the same space as Kelechi. Can you guys say a little bit about how you all know each other, the work that you all do collaboratively?
Yolo:
Well, I learned about Kelechi because everybody was like, why don't you Kelechi? Like. Like, really you're not one of the cool kids you now. And it's like, you know, talking to different people about the work and researching really dynamic black folks in California who were doing the work, you know, Kelechi necklaces came up and so, that is one way we connected. We connected also Kelechi came to workshops. I have, I have I have Kelechi's book We've Been Too Patient. And we also are collaborating currently on a project that I'm really excited about, that it's been a long time coming I'm really working on, tools to help support, people who are survivors of psychiatric incarceration or psychiatric involuntary hold. So, yeah.
Kelechi:
Yeah. And I'll just add that I went to one of Yolo's workshops. And I think something that struck me was just how accessible it was as a black person, the way that we could talk about mental health in this non. And that's from the peers community, which we'll talk more about that. Understand that. But I think there was just a way of like oh, we're going to have a real real talk, but also we're going to which is so it's just so healthy. It was not like you're broken or you're ill or these things are happening, but it was really like, what about what are these experiences? How does racism play into this? What does intersectionality look like? How do we, you know, Yolo framed the term martyr nurturing, which is been following me through every conversation, how do black women hold, ask for help or not ask for help. And what does that look like? So I think just having someone directly speak to black people about mental health, about what it looks like for us, was really life changing. So I was like, I need to know this this Yolo person.
Eric:
Well I think that's a space I want to get started in. So you know Black History Month we can talk about it all year long of course. But but particularly this month knowing that the experience in mental health trauma is different in a lot of ways for black people. It is similar in ways to other folks as well. But what would you say are some of the things, that you all try to express, to black folks who might have, might not have a comfortable relationship with mental health? In terms of knowing some of the background, knowing some of the history and just being able to, as you said Kelechi, talk about it in an accessible way, so that black folks can feel comfortable, talking about their experiences. And either of you guys can get started on that.
Kelechi:
Kick us off a little bit. I think one thing that I try to do is say, like, you know, how you have health. Mental health is health. It's part of your well-being. I try to make it accessible by just saying it is part of our wellness. Like it's not, I move away from diagnostic criteria and framework because that has been a way to label and throw away people or control them. But I'm more of like, wow, if you if you look at it as a continuum, like, what do you do when you're like, not sleeping well? What do you do? You know, how are you taking care of all the different parts of you? And then, particularly for black people, and we see more research on this, which doesn't come up in kind of mainstream spaces, racism impacts our mental health like it's actually a contributing factor to suicide. So a lot of people don't know that or talk about it.
But I think the way that our community has just held or dealt with things, it gets heavier and heavier. So by the time many of us ask for help, it might be more in a crisis state because we've been holding on to something for a longer time. And I don't know if it's like this for you, but in many of the, with many of the folks I work with in my community, we were told not to talk about things like, that's not public, that's private. We don't share those things. And I think there's like a lot of the times that's called stigma or shame. But also what happened when you shared things. Did your babies get taken away? Right. There's a real fear about actually expressing what's going on in our homes. Because what is the response? So I think I'm I'm really curious about how we can have spaces like BEAM where you can actually express yourself and you can talk about those hard, difficult things without maybe a fear of a system coming in, taking you away from your family or or labeling you with something that might impact your future, that maybe you don't identify with. So those are some maybe high level things that come to mind, but really just talking about experiences helps people a bit better than labeling it like, I think that's been more accessible. What I found.
Yolo:
Yeah, brilliantly said Kelechi. I would add to it. For us, it's always important. And for me to validate the fear. I remember, you know, post, before 2020 and we had this mental health boom. There were certain narratives that were really predominant in the mental health complex. Right? And one of them was why are black folks so scared of mental health? Right? And you would see that everywhere. And it was a kind of, collective and like, mental health industrial complex gaslighting, right? It was like it was like everybody, and black people were doing it, therapists, everybody was doing it. And no one was saying, wait, we have generations of folks who have been traumatized by these institutions. We have communities that do not see the mental health system as separate from the prison-industrial complex. Now we have worked like Antonia Hylton's Madness, which, you know, traces the history of, one of the, quote unquote Negro asylums in Maryland and shows this history, this multi, you know, decade history, of black people being snatched up off the streets and disappeared into mental health institutions of abuse and violence, of collaborations with the police to, discredit and destroy movements for social justice, people coming in in certain states and leaving worse in different states.
Right, and so we have to understand that point blank there is a legitimate reason why our communities are concerned about getting access or accessing psychiatry, therapy, because they recognize it is a state based in systems that do not always celebrate, honor or respect a black person when they give them a label like bipolar or schizophrenia, that that becomes another avenue for the state to inflict more violence on you. And we have to be really honest about that. So people and people I see people let the let down when we say those things like, okay, I can be honest that I'm scared because I've seen things. I can be honest because, you know, I always tell the story about being in rural Florida and doing a workshop on mental health and a young person coming up and saying, hey, every time I hear mental health, I see the social worker who took my cousin away who was having the episode right. And I think that, that part has to be held and made real and say, like, the system is not inherently safe. We want to and I think I struggle a lot with a lot of, therapists on social media because they always like "therapy's great". I'm like, y'all gotta to stop acting like who you are is the field. Y'all gotta stop. Y'all setting people up, right? Like, you know we got to give people a grounded perspective saying hey guess what. This system has its nuances and its challenges and you have to navigate it with a lot of care because there's a lot of racism, transphobia, sexism, ableism inherent in how they've been taught to operate. But we can find people who are advocates who will partner with you, will support you, who will help you navigate this, with as much care. I think about the little the books that, black folks used to have in the 60s and 70s in the United States that told you were the safe places were.
Kelechi:
The green books, yeah.
Yolo:
The green books! Thank you Kelechi. The green books. It's like we need a green book. Yeah. So, that's always where I'm trying to start from, to make sure people know how we understand where this comes from and it's legitimate.
Eric:
Yeah. No I, I hear you and I appreciate that. And I think you know one of the, one of the topics that often comes up as in the advocacy space, you know, find peers, work with peers. And a lot of so-called traditional peers, throughout the country and in California, traditional peer organizations, are led by white folks with, white ideas of mental health, white experiences of mental health. And I know you all can talk, talk about this, but it hasn't. It doesn't always seem as somebody who, who doesn't self-identify as as a mental health peer, as somebody with a mental health diagnosis. It doesn't always seem welcoming for different perspectives, for black perspectives, for, perspectives that aren't so-called traditional. Do you all mind talking a little bit about that? You know, the experiences that you all have, what you would encourage, you know, especially black folks who are navigating mental health, to think about when it comes to finding other peers or other kind of, similar, kind of folks with similar experiences.
Kelechi:
Yeah. Thank you so much for kind of setting that up Eric. And I just want to rewind a little bit, to kind of talk about where peers came from and where this kind of modality came from. So in the 60s and 70s, with deinstitutionalization, there were a lot of "patients". I use the word in quotes, "patients" leaving the system because they were closing the big hospitals. And as they were leaving the system, they were finding each other and connecting with each other. And really saying, like, we can support one another. And these folks called themselves ex-patients' psychiatric abolitionists. They were very anti-psychiatry and the group kind of did an interesting split. Now, while this is happening, civil rights is going on and they're inspired by they're not integrated with.
So it's alongside the civil rights movement, but it's not integrated together. And as a consumer movement as it became as it as we now call it today, happened there was a big split between people who had been harmed and attacked in systems, had been forced into restraints, over medicated, all sorts of physical and mental abuse. We're like, we need something for ourselves. We need to support one another.
There was another group that said, we want to support other people who are going to go to the systems. And so this big split happened where folks who were radicalized were like, I never want to see a mental health system again. And folks who are like, we should go back and help reform it. And so that's where peers came from. Peers are kind of the answer to peer support was like, let's support one another. Through these mechanisms. Now of course, years, years, eons before we've had indigenous ways of supporting one another. We've had ways as black and brown folks of of like hearing in circles and doing that kind of work. So I think this is also inspired, by those kind of practices. The idea was that we are the same, you and I are the same. I'm not higher than you. I'm not a clinician. I maybe have gone through some things that you've gone through. Maybe I have more experience and I'm going to share that with you.
And now as some things happen, peers have become medicalized. Not all of them. But as we watch people become become official peers in the system, we're learning that they're being asked to do things like case work, which is not what what the intention was. And that that consumer movement has always been a white led movement. It's been white led, mostly middle class. And so while there have been black and brown folks, part of the movement like Celia Brown, Jonathan Edwards, Keris Myrick, of course, all of these incredible people, it was always like 1 or 2. It wasn't always like a bunch. So when it would come to big topics like police brutality, we would see different areas of like splintering, and it become really challenging having the conversation about racism and mental health when folks really wanted to talk about forced treatment. I wouldn't necessarily understand the intersectionality of like, oh, the folks who are black and brown are going to be targeted even more. So let's work together.
So, I've just witnessed a lot of like, splinters in these kind of spaces. But I will say I am here today because of peer support, because of people just saying, hang out in my living room. I've got you. We'll talk about what's going on. You don't have to be perfect. I'm not scared. Your feelings aren't too big, right? Just this idea that you don't have to save or fix someone, that there's a witnessing of it. There's a holding space for people. And I think that's what mental health support should look like. Not over medicating or telling someone they're broken or giving them a diagnosis or honestly stashing them away because you're scared that they might do something that you don't agree with. You know, just this feeling that you have to stop the conversation. So I would say for for black folks who are looking for peers, you know, there are there are black peers in the community.
There are folks who can hold space for us. I would say don't give up looking, but also know that, like with anything, you know, we have to be, like, careful of how we advocate or how we move. So I, there's like so many choices and options, but I guess I'll leave it here is that, there are plenty of people to support, but sometimes I think when you add money to a position, it gets complicated when someone talks about like, maybe taking that away and making you making you do things you didn't originally want to do. So maybe it's informal, right? Maybe you're not going through a formal system to get support, but maybe you're going through more grassroots providers. Maybe you're going to go hang out community based organizations. Maybe it's a little less formal. Because I'm noticing the more formal things get, the more medicalized they can be. And that's not true for everything. But that's something I'm witnessing.
Eric:
Yeah, I appreciate that. And especially the, the background and kind of history of the peer experience and the peer movement and the splintering. Yolo?
Yolo:
Yeah. You know, me and Kelechi have talked about this context, of peer piece and, you know, the first piece, I'll say, as someone who's worked in primarily black and Latino communities for the last 20 years, is that word doesn't mean a lot or have a lot of meaning to a lot of communities. They'll be like, what do you mean when you say that? When you say peer? Right. And I think, in a piece I want to add to that is that only a hyper individualist culture would find something as dramatic as a, some, would need a peer support model, if that makes sense. Only a hyper individualist culture. Let me contextualize that. Right. When you talk about collectives called collectivist cultures, when you look at like historical kind of precedents of what mental health is, if you were to go and say that like, hey, you're, we're all going through the same thing and we support you. People be like, yeah girl, but why is that special? That's not a special thing. Like, that's actually just how the world is, is how we interact with the land. That's how we interact with community.
That's like, we all know that piece, whereas, you know, you have this Western system that is so hyper individualism and individualist like, the real radical idea of what Kelechi even shared about. Like we're going to share what we're going through together, we're going to support each other, and we have similar conditions, experiences. Is now radical, is like it's so radical in an individualistic society because it's like, what? Why, why would I talk to other people? Oh my God, I can't believe you're talking to people got the same condition as you, So I just want to hold it like that peer term is always tricky for me, even as I have to use it sometimes to get the dollars from the white folks because that's what they language they use.
And then if we're gonna use the peer framework, I always say that for the descendants of enslaved Africans in the United States, for us, our history of peer support starts the moment we landed here, the moment we were actually forcibly taken from our homes, right? And I when I say that because there is no way any of us would be here if our ancestors had not had rituals, practices, herbs, songs, music, stomping, dancing to help them transmute as much as possible. The disruptive and violent trauma of being taken away from their lands, their homes, and being forcibly brought here under the most horrendous conditions. So I always say that, like our history of if we want to use the term peer support, it starts there, right? It starts with the things, the songs that we know that our folks were singing in the in the fields to regulate themselves, to support people who they knew were on the spectrum and they didn't even have that language to help them remember what to do, right? To keep them safe.
And so I think that it's always important to hold those pieces when it comes to like that peer support framework, because even when we're in the communities now, I'm like, hey, if I say peer support, like not connecting, I'm like, hey, we are We all going through the same things. She's going through the same thing, you're going through, y'all should talk. Oh, snap. Yeah, I should talk to her. I'll talk to Kelechi. Oh, you've been through this too? Do you know what I mean? There's a there's a way in which that kindof language resonates with people. Like, yeah, I want to talk to an elder who's been through it. You know, how many times and we said, like, you talk to an elder, they're like, yeah, you know, when I was, I had a son or daughter, I had this like, oh, you know, we we have a culture of understanding that. But it's not, to say it, doesn't fit the framework of peer support, because that language isn't always as commonly dispersed in our community.
Let's be sensible to lift up two, which is like lifting up the brains of, collectivist, and African strategies like the Aro Village system. Right? That is once again built on collectivism. Right? So we talking the Aro Village system, like they bring people together and putting them in families and communities and homes to be to be in community with people, to learn and and share the folks. Like that to me, is a collectivist tradition we need to honor, because I see that like similar as Kelechi is sharing what's happening with peer, the peer support piece in the United States and in California particularly, is that actually one you got people who are expected to do grander, grander labor for like mediocre payment and retraumatize themselves and re-activate themselves. And then you making $30,000 a year. Okay, so now you're actually creating poverty because I'm struggling to survive and also navigating this. But also it is it is the medicalization. It's the dehu, medicalization often equates dehumanization of people.
When people become numbers and stats and not actual breathing people who need space and time to be present with. One of the things that I feel like I'm often run up in against when I'm in my work as a counselor has been the systems idea of time, the systems idea of structure. Like, I've gotten in trouble where, you know, in the past, in past jobs, I'm like, hey, this kid was having ideations. And so I sat on his porch with him for the full day. Like, "What? You didn't do that for a full day!" "You lying!" Like no, no, no, no. And like, but not having a cultural context as this white woman to understand that, like, hey, actually sitting on a porch with somebody eating food and playing a video game that actually did de-escalate him, right? They don't have the sense of that. But a system isn't designed, It's like you got two hours, get the assessment in and put, get all your paperwork in. That's not how healing happens.
Kelechi:
Absolutely. That's so, so wise. I really appreciate you lifting that. Even in my most recent crisis it's been people circling up, right? Maybe I had a decolonized therapist who is dope, but for the most part, 24/7, it's going to be the people who can show up and be with me while I'm having such heavy pain, right? And it's not like, oh, well, I'm done. We, we spent 40, 50 minutes. You're healed. The end. And that expectation, that individualistic, westernized idea that we can just label and go away with something and medicate it and it's gone, right? It's not. I don't know that has hasn't worked, right? Who is it working for? I mean those are like who is this working for? And so definitely not our communities, but it doesn't work for anyone.
Eric:
You know it's interesting because for most of my career it's been policy heavy working with and around elected officials. And a lot of it is traditional Western a lot of it is like we put this thing down on paper. We spend this amount of money on it, we need these results. And you just keep going through that process over and over. And as policy folks, we try to get out in front as best we can with the language, how we change laws, how we can impact laws, those sorts of things. As you both know, one of the many, kind of frustrations, in recent years especially, but a really, for a long time in California, we've gone we've continued down the path of institutionalization, forced treatment, forced care, and essentially putting policies together that will get rid of the visual homelessness that, that many experience or see throughout the state of California. What is either of your, experience working on policy? What has been your experience kind of seeing CARE court or seeing Proposition 1, hearing some of the rhetoric that, that gets said by members of all parties, Democrat or Republican, it hasn't really mattered.
The approach has been very similar, where it's like, we're sick and tired of these folks or they can't do anything for themselves. They can't help themselves. So we're just going to, impose upon them, you know, force care, putting them in, you know, institutions, whatever the case might be. But what what are your all's experiences with that? What kind of comes to mind when when you see what California has been doing in that space?
Kelechi:
Wish we had time for like a whole nother on this.
Eric:
I know, drop that on you mid mid conversation, right?
Kelechi:
Right? Mid conversation. So I was part of a, small group, of people lived experience fighting against Proposition 1, and trying to make sure that our dollars that were for innovative, mental health solutions that are usually tied to some of the more culturally based programing, and preventative programing wouldn't disappear. We lost by a thousand votes. Was ridiculous. But one of the things that we just encountered has been this move to tough love. And so moving away, even in like San Francisco, they now have this tough love, sobering center that they're trying to bring about. And it's it's cops will pick you up and it's somewhere between jail or hospital. And it's all force. And it's really part of this idea of let's end houselessness. But not really. Let's get rid of the people we visibly don't want to see on the streets. And instead of having affordable housing, and services people want to go to, let's disappear them. And I personally believe, like all of these cages are connected, these cages are connected to the ICE cages which are connected to the hospital cages. They're all connected. When you take someone away, do you know what happens when people are away? Bad things happen when you put people away. So even people with the best of intentions and they're like, they're getting help. They don't know that. Like research shows that people are more likely to attempt suicide after being in a hospital, even if they didn't come there for that at all, right? We've seen over and over research showing that this is not how you help people. They need voluntary options, choices, and they need community. But we've never, ever decided to actually resource community based organizations, grassroots organizations where people feel safe to come to. And then because they're never resourced enough. The thing is, why won't this work? We just have to take away their human rights. They're taking away people's human rights and using the word care, taking away people's human rights, and using our language of recovery and healing. They're taking everything we say and flipping it and branding it better. It's just abuse with with better branding, and we're not paying attention to it because it sounds good. And we do want those people to get help. That's not help, that's coercion, that's manipulation, that's abuse. And people are not even better off after going through these things. So what did you get at the end? I don't know, a clean street for I don't know, the Super Bowl. Like what did you get? Sorry. I could go on and on and on. So, we'll stop there.
Eric:
I appreciate it, over to you Kele, or Yolo, sorry.
Yolo:
I mean, Kelechi said all the things, honey There's one important piece that I often have to make the distinction of with myself and where I sit politically on the spectrum of mental health and wellness and healing justice work, right? I recognize and I'm forever grateful for. And we need our advocates who are fighting at the federal and state level and the policy, to make sure that these funds that have been exploited and appropriated from our communities are actually redirected or returned as much as possible, and I am here to continue a legacy in a lineage that exists outside of the system. And I'm here to continue a legacy and lineage of the grass roots underground wellness network, folks. I'm here to continue that legacy and resource and refine that legacy so that our communities, regardless of who was in office, regardless of what dollars are present, have that underground network to support their collective wellness. And that's my that's where I'm situated in. I know I'm not as effective in federal and state policy spaces, unless they want to get me on the mic, and then I'll say the things, but I know that there's a different kind of tenacity and behavior that has to take to navigate those spaces.
My work is in community, grassroots work, and I think that it is these networks, these informal networks that, you know, are loosely based and based off of word of mouth that people trust deeply. The curanderos, the tarot ladies, the pastors, the moms, the all those folks who are doing healing work and with integrity in our communities that are trusted, that need to be supported, that need to be uplifted and I think will carry us during the as we know, increasingly disturbing times where more and more care is being stripped from us, right? And so if we don't uplift those folks unfortunately, we know if we don't uplift and refine those folks who are doing that solid, integrity based work, we know in a capitalist system there are many people who are healers, therapists, whatever practitioners who are ripe and ready to exploit our folks from their own pain or woundedness or wherever it comes from, right?
And so I'm always thinking about that's my lens in my lane, I'm always going to shout out and celebrate the people doing the policy work. I'll be adjacent as necessary, but I know that, like, that's what I've come to do. And I appreciate that. And I think, you know, as somebody who is involved in the, in the policy side of things, we need the Yolos. We need we need as many Yolos, folks doing the underground, especially for our community. You know, I'll speak briefly about, you know, my my two grandfathers. I'll kind of start there. But they were both dark skinned black men from the Deep South who, who were in the military, fought in, Korea and Vietnam. And they, I think, kind of set the, a certain standard for our family in terms of how they viewed, mental health, how they viewed, some of these issues, kind of, and for a lot of it, they were they were tough, for, you know, to kind of say it plainly and being tough helped them survive in many ways, helped their families survive, helped their families move from the South to the West coast during the Great Migration.
And I think that where I kind of feel, I feel bad a little bit is I wish they could have had an opportunity to know, that it was okay to kind of talk through their experiences and hopefully find as many communities as they could to talk through experiences. I know it was difficult to do when they moved to the West Coast, not having, the same, neighborhoods and communities that they were used to, in the South. But I just think about some of these things and in particular Yolo, you know, the experiences and work that you do, and lifting up the communities where black folks can find comfort in talking to, you know, the neighborhood, you know, barber the neighborhood, pastor, whoever it might be to just kind of let it out and, and be you, and, and it's something that that now especially doing the work that I do. I'm, I'm being very intentional about making sure that, my parents generation, and my daughter's generation, that they know that they can always, kind of talk plainly and be open and be honest and come, you know, and, and be real about, about their experiences and, and how helpful that ultimately is and all of this. So I appreciate, you know, you, the work that you do and making sure that as a policy person, I'm urging, you know, funds and and the rest to go towards community based, folks who are doing this work because you all are the ones who get the results that that the government says that they, they ultimately want. So I just, I just wanted to to lift that up real quick. But I, I know Kelechi, you hopped off mute so I know you wanted to mention something.
Kelechi:
I just I just wanted to say when I think about like and thank you for bringing your, your grandfather's into the conversation. When I think about, like, my grandfather and his grandfather and the things as black folks that we were taught, how to to survive or how to toughen up or do all these things and, and what we carried with us. But then I think back to like, well, what did they dream for us? They dreamed for something so much better than what they had, and they survived the way they knew how to. But their dreams were way bigger. So I think it's beautiful. You're living their dreams and maybe moving differently than what could even be accessible or imagined.
Eric:
That's right, that's right.
Yolo:
You know, I like to think of it actually, one way I think about it often is, I had the honor of being an Africana studies undergrad, right? And so I think about the spectrum of black political thought. I think we're in a moment where there is a need to actually articulate the spectrum of black political thought as it relates to mental health and healing, right? And the necessity for all of us along that spectrum. Like, we know there was a significant need for a Booker T. Washington and a W. E. B. Du Bois. Both of them had played a pivotal role and were a part of a broader conversation that we needed both of them operating right. And I think that when it comes to mental health, what's happening? Is it like there's a need for us to articulate where are we? Like, you know, on the spectrum, there are people who are further left than me who are like, you know, we never taking medication, like, okay, I'm not there, right? You know what I mean.
Like, you know, but like, but like, what does that do in the continuum of black political thought? Where are we at in terms of like, yes, I'm going to be working with federal state institutions because I'm using that as a strategy to protect our people, and that is a valid and necessary work. And then as myself, you know, I see myself as a part of the maroon history, like, you know, if you know, from for me, when maroon communities across the Caribbean and across South America, communities of black folks who were like, we're gonna make our own thing as much as we can because we don't know. We don't trust this other thing that's being created, right? And that has a place to but also has its limitations, right? All of the strategies do, right?
And so I'm thinking about that a lot. Like, you know, thinking about where am I in the political spectrum, where am I situated, what is my role. You know what I mean? How can I align with certain folks and recognizing that there's some places where I'm going to like, we missed each other here Boo, you know, there are some therapists that I adore. And they, they adhere to the pathology based plan or the DSM a little too much for me on certain points. I don't like, Oh, you're using this in a way that isn't what's, doing what you think it's doing, you know? And I have to be able to, like, hold it like there's other places where we are in sync and there's a place where here's, where we depart. How do I be in, pluralistic collaboration with you around those pieces? Which I know Eric, you know a lot about in policy. You're like, "Yes, I know this" You're like, "Yolo, tell me about my life." I know what this is like.
Eric:
Absolutely. 100%, 100% agree. And, and it's funny, I'm an Africana studies undergrad as well. And it just it was it was it was an interesting journey, to, to, to take that as a major. I always wanted to go to law school. And fortunately for me, I had parents who encouraged me just across the board to major in something that you're most interested in, and you'll be able to figure out grad schools, jobs, all the rest that come with it. And choosing Africana studies for me was my first opportunity to have black professors, to really engage on a, on an intellectual level, on some of the, some of the things that that matter, most to to our people.
And we're going to kind of close things up in a second. But one of the things that that it led me to understand, is everything up until that point and even, you know, even since then, in many ways that I've learned about black people has been from black people. And I really, want to be somebody who who, continues to uplift that because sometimes, we, we might over depend on what the traditional systems, can do, and they're just not going to so, so leaning in to, to the education and teachings of our community, has been has been really wonderful. And I think one of the things that the doing this policy work on mental health, really making sure black folks are just aware of, of what's happening, and, and like, we all talked about that black and brown folks are the ones who are going to be most impacted by all of these policies. And so just, just encouraging all of us to continue these conversations and kind of, keep them in the forefront.
But but as I mentioned, we're going to start closing up here. And I have two final questions for you all. One is, is there a book, film, show, anything in pop culture right now that you're particularly excited about that you would encourage people to to take some time to, to, to check out? I'll mention mine first. It's, a book and it's called Kings and Pawns, and it's the story of Jackie Robinson and Paul Robeson. There was, a very fascinating, I guess, experience, discussion back in the 40s, where the two gentlemen, were unfortunately kind of placed against each other. Many folks don't even know who Paul Robeson is, which is, which is really tragic. But, Paul Robeson, of course, being, very, very outspoken, very dynamic, just an incredible human being. And at the time, arguably the most famous, black person in the world. And, of course, Jackie Robinson, who broke the color barrier in, in Major League Baseball. But they were kind of pitted against each other in the 1940s when it came to, pro black, black rights. Black civil rights in the 40s. So it's a fascinating book. It just came out recently written by Howard Bryant, a black author, who spent a lot of time, doing sports writing, in the Bay Area. And, I'm really just looking forward to checking that out, but I'll toss it over to to you both. If there's anything that you would encourage folks to to check out.
Kelechi:
I can, I can say that I, I've just finished reading, Octavia Butler's Parable of the Sower. Sower. And there's a second one. I space her books out, like, every five years because there's only so many of them, and she's passed away. But it it was a while. Like, I want to talk about it without talking too much about it. So I don't ruin anything. But essentially the year is like 2025. It's the future. So this is taking place in the past. But, we're looking at climate change. We're looking at addiction. We're looking at how do people survive during chaos. And like when all the odds are stacked against this community and our lead, and our lead, our lead protagonist named Lauren, what do we do and how do we survive? And from that is this beautiful, like, realization or even, like, community that she creates and Earth seed, this idea, these ideas about like how you can love back yourself and it's really just phenomenal. And it's also not necessarily the easiest read, but there is something about reading dystopian fiction and a dystopian reality. I mean, I don't know, it's probably the easiest time I could read it because I'm like, well, you know, this is this is a time. But it also gives me ideas and strategies of like, what would it take to kind of survive and also how are people planting again and getting back into the land. And I'm like, I have no discernible skills. I don't know if I'll survive without WiFi. Maybe I should learn how to plant something. So yeah, it's definitely inspiring me a bit.
Yolo:
So, so like, some books that I am inspired by right now, I'm just recommending everyone read Antonia Hylton's Madness. I think it is, is one of the most important books about the history of black mental health in the United States that we have out now that in in terms of historical, you know, she's a journalist, so she researched it down and it just captures so eloquently and so brilliantly and so devastatingly the reality of the history of mental health in this country. For black people. I recommend that book. Another book that I always love is Dr. Jennifer Mullan's book, Decolonizing Therapy. It is in my opinion, one of the most definitive texts for people who are trying to understand how to move beyond the pathology based lens. But I always say We've Been Too Patient. If you want to hear the voices of folks from across experiences, about like, you know, how we need to, like, radicalize the system, but the real trauma, the system creates this really, like, patient centered, quote unquote. I think that's really important. And another book I'll say that I think is important to the mental health conversation is, quite frankly, I think people need to be reading Angela Davis' Are Prisons Obsolete? I think that, we need to get more and more honest about the mental health systems. How do I say, "intertwining" with the prison system, even if you want to say there are two separate systems, particularly the public health system for our folks, you know.
Eric:
Wow, appreciate both of, all of your recommendations. And then the final question is always, what is either, both of your game plans for 2026? Whether it's work related, personal related, any and all of the above? Just, what what are you all hoping to to do this year?
Kelechi:
Oh, that's a big question. One thing I'm excited to do this year is, my brothers and I are starting, sibling trips where we just as our siblings go off on a journey, together. Because we usually can only see each other during holidays, that kind of thing. So we'll just be us, and we'll be heading to Japan in April. It's been one of our biggest dreams since we were nerdy anime watching kids. So I think that's just really something exciting to explore. And I think my other kind of game plan for 2026, I spent a lot of time resting this past year. And I feel like it's my shift to be on. So I think I'm ready to take on more of the work, to, to interrupt some of the negative policies that are impacting our folks, or just spread awareness or just share what we could do differently for folks in the mental health system or outside of it. And really building on more informal systems so we can be safe outside of the system, like Yolo had mentioned earlier. So I think when folks are exhausted, it's time, you know, some people need to rest and I'm tapping back in. So I've rested and I'm I'm back.
Yolo:
Yeah. For me personally, I say I'll start with, it's diving in and to honoring and reconnecting lineages. There's a lot of, broken lineages, I would say. In my mother and my father's side of the family, my great grandmother, you know, her mother passed when she was very, very young. Like a like a like a, like a little I think it was 8 or 9 months. And so what has happened with that as well as in my father's side of family, is also a lot of broken, quote unquote, lineage because of my grandmother there. You know, we've been tracing back our roots and finding Caribbean lineage and finding like, oh, wait, oh, this was where she was from. But we didn't know these pieces. And so, I am honored that, like, I've been kind of like, called back and that I've been trusted to call back because I feel like that's what's been happening a spirit has been like, "Yeah, you need to know this part of your history too." You know? Yes, you need to honor your West African roots And there was another stop off here, baby. There was another place here we were at. You know, in addition to your relationship with South Florida, which is the Upper Caribbean as far as I'm concerned.
But like, you know, all those pieces. And so, really kind of honoring and researching and learning more and connecting to the land and connecting with the spirit and the dream world that has been bringing me these visions is really important for me, Where as it relates to the broader work in the world. I just want to do work that helps the people continue to heal and resist and whatever I can make, whatever contributions I can give, whatever medicine I can share, what other medicine I can disseminate. And when I say medicine, I'm using it in the indigenous framing of medicine not in the sense of just pills, but in the sense of any kind of healing offering. I want to continue to cultivate that with my colleagues and partners and loved ones, for so we can continue to, recognize our power. Yeah.
Eric:
Wow. Well, I appreciate you both, for joining. We had a wonderful conversation and, really grateful, across the board for all the work that you all do for our communities. And, and just thank you.
Voiceover:
This has been the Game Plan a production of Disability Rights. California, please like subscribe, comment on the platform of your choice. See you next time.


