By Leah Donnella — 2017
"Racial impostor syndrome" is definitely a thing for many people. We hear from biracial and multi-ethnic listeners who connect with feeling "fake" or inauthentic in some part of their racial or ethnic heritage.
Read on www.npr.org
CLEAR ALL
“I still eat rice and beans. I just use brown rice now,” said Annya Santana of Menos Mas, a wellness company that speaks to African-American and Latinx communities.
So many of the little rituals I have each day—like my makeup or skincare routine—do help soothe and/or rejuvenate me. For me, any type of solo practiced routine is good. But I’ve learned that self-care does not, and cannot, sustain me. And I believe that this may be the case for many of you.
Our culture has taught us that we do not have the privilege of being vulnerable like other communities.
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The Latinx community is just as vulnerable to mental illness as the general population, but faces disparities in treatment.
Eso es para locos. Esta generación... siempre inventando. These are the words I’d hear anytime I mentioned therapy or mental health growing up.
As a Filipino-American, Jo Encarnacion understands the intergenerational trauma and pain triggered by the latest wave of Asian hate and violence. She also understands that staying silent is no longer an option.
“When I started my undergraduate degree in psychology, my grandmother said she was afraid I would become pagal (“crazy”) because of it.
A guide for tending to the traumas of anti-Asian violence and racism.
I’m learning that my challenge isn’t just to unlearn what my family has taught me, but to put myself in situations that would reaffirm the new lessons I was trying to replace the old ones with.
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A place to start for Black women and women of color looking to reclaim their power.