Truth and renewal for Black survivors of race-based harm, trauma, and oppression
Racial trauma is not an abstract idea. It is a lived reality that leaves marks on the body, the soul, and the spirit. For Black communities across the African Diaspora, these wounds are carried not only by individuals, but also by families and generations.
Research confirms what our bodies already know. Repeated exposure to racism contributes to depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress, and chronic health conditions such as hypertension, diabetes, and autoimmune disorders. Scholars have documented that the chronic stress of racism and discrimination, sometimes described as toxic stress or allostatic load, produces harmful physiological changes that wear down the body over time (Geronimus et al., 2006; Williams et al., 2019). These struggles are compounded by the daily reality of navigating hostile systems, enduring microaggressions, and grieving losses that are rarely acknowledged by the broader society. The weight is cumulative, pressing down across time.
This burden is not only personal but also intergenerational. The stories of trauma are carried in memory, language, silence, and even DNA. Epigenetic studies suggest that trauma responses may be biologically transmitted across generations (Yehuda & Lehrner, 2018), reinforcing what many African-descended communities have always known; grief left unresolved in one generation resurfaces in the next. The weathering of the body, the fragmentation of identity, and the silencing of dignity are all ill-effects of oppression that too many have been forced to bear.
When Black adults seek care, they often encounter systems not designed for them. Traditional mental health structures frequently overlook cultural dimensions of healing, neglect the role of spirituality, and fail to create safe spaces where racial trauma can be named (Gone, 2010). Too often, those in need of care are met with dismissal, disbelief, or the demand to minimize their pain. The result is both underutilization of mental health services and ongoing suffering in silence.
In contrast, healing within the African Diaspora tradition has always been collective. It has lived in testimony, in song, in prayer, in story circles, and in the resilience practices passed down from our elders. These practices were survival strategies, but they were also sacred. Healing was never meant to happen alone, but in community, witnessed, with rhythm, with faith. The communal dimension of healing recognizes that wellness is tied to belonging, and restoration flows when stories, bodies, and spirits are held together in safe fellowship.
The Phoenix Fellowship responds to this need by creating safe Black Spaces.
This is not meant to bitterly exclude or replace medical care, therapy, or pastoral counseling. Rather, it fills a critical gap: the need for culturally resonant, spiritually affirming, community-based healing.
References
Geronimus, A. T., Hicken, M., Keene, D., & Bound, J. (2006). "Weathering" and age patterns of allostatic load scores among Blacks and Whites in the United States. American Journal of Public Health, 96(5), 826–833. https://doi.org/10.2105/AJPH.2004.060749
Gone, J. P. (2010). Psychotherapy and traditional healing for American Indians: Exploring the prospects for therapeutic integration. The Counseling Psychologist, 38(2), 166–235. https://doi.org/10.1177/0011000008330831
Williams, D. R., Lawrence, J. A., & Davis, B. A. (2019). Racism and health: Evidence and needed research. Annual Review of Public Health, 40, 105–125. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev-publhealth-040218-043750
Yehuda, R., & Lehrner, A. (2018). Intergenerational transmission of trauma effects: Putative role of epigenetic mechanisms. World Psychiatry, 17(3), 243–257. https://doi.org/10.1002/wps.20568