Dr. Jamila Hughley

As a Black woman, single mother, and mental health professional, I have learned that parenting Black children requires more than love alone. It requires faith when we are uncertain, courage when we are afraid, and commitment to protecting our children’s hope even when the world challenges it. As the mother of a teenager, I have spent years balancing the desire to protect my child with the reality that I cannot shield her from every challenge she may encounter.
Raising resilient Black children means creating emotional safety, teaching them how to name and manage their feelings, strengthening their cultural identity, and seeking culturally responsive mental health support when needed. Resilience should help children recover and flourish, not pressure them to tolerate pain silently.
That means recognizing my desire to protect her is rooted in my own fears rather than her actual needs in that moment. Also, some of the most important parenting moments happen when I admit I was wrong, revisit a difficult conversation, and choose connection over being right. Those moments have reminded me that trust is built not through perfection but through repair.
“Resilience is often celebrated as it is a superpower. In reality, resilience is born out of necessity.”
I have watched parents struggle to find culturally responsive mental health services for their children. Their experiences reflect a larger national concern. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, nearly one in five children has been diagnosed with a mental, emotional, or behavioral health condition. The question is not whether our children are struggling, but whether we are listening.
Children’s mental health is shaped by what happens at home, in school, in neighborhoods, and in systems designed to support them. I often tell parents that emotional wellness begins with modeling. Children watch how adults manage stress. They notice whether we apologize when we are wrong. They observe whether we prioritize rest or glorify exhaustion. They learn whether vulnerability is welcomed or punished. When we give ourselves permission to heal, we also give our children permission to do the same.
Black children often carry burdens beyond the usual challenges of childhood. The American Academy of Pediatrics has documented the impact that racism and discrimination have on children’s physical and emotional well-being. As both a parent and mental health professional, I have seen how difficult it can be to explain these realities to young people without diminishing their sense of possibility.
I want my daughter and the children I serve to understand the world as it is while never losing sight of who they are. Our children need more than conversations about how to navigate racism. They need reminders that their identities are sources of strength, pride, and possibility. They need to see themselves reflected in stories of achievement, belonging, leadership, creativity, and joy.
It is important to normalize conversations about mental health, and teaching emotional vocabulary should not be viewed as an indulgence. Creating spaces where young people can express emotions without judgment is an investment in their future.
Despite these pressures, I continue to witness something extraordinary in Black families: resilience. Resilience is often celebrated as it is a superpower. In reality, resilience is born out of necessity. I see it in grandparents who step in when families need support, parents working multiple jobs while still showing up for school events, and children who keep dreaming big despite the obstacles placed before them.
However, resilience should never require silence. I have met parents carrying enormous burdens while feeling they had to remain strong for everyone else. I have worked with children whose struggles were dismissed as attitude problems, growing pains, or something they would eventually outgrow. Too often, families wait until a crisis occurs before seeking help.
Black families historically develop strengths through community support, faith traditions, extended family, and collective caregiving. Research shows the importance of kinship caregiving and intergenerational relationships among Black families, and the vital role these connections play in strengthening children and communities. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, godparents, church members, and trusted neighbors have long helped raise Black children, offering guidance, encouragement, and a sense of belonging that extends beyond the immediate household.
Some readers may argue that conversations about race, mental health, or systemic barriers encourage victimhood. Others may claim that previous generations endured hardships without openly discussing these topics. I respectfully disagree. The goal is to raise children who understand both the challenges they may encounter and the strengths they already possess. Acknowledging reality does not create weakness. It creates preparation. Ignoring reality serves no one.
My call to action is simple. Have a meaningful conversation with a child this week. Ask how they are really doing and listen without rushing to fix or judge. If concerns arise, seek professional support before a crisis develops. Advocate for accessible and culturally responsive mental health services in your community. Most importantly, remind every Black child in your life that they are valued, capable, and deeply loved.
The future of the Black family depends not only on helping our children survive difficult circumstances. It depends on helping them dream boldly, heal fully, and flourish unapologetically.
comments +