By: Synclair
I am proudly gifted, African American, and learning to embrace being a plus-sized young woman. I am Synclair. An actress in my school’s theatre club, a National Honor Society student, a track manager with dreams of becoming a marine biologist. I defy singular definitions and embrace the rich complexity of who I am. Many adults throw around the term multifaceted, but I’m here to define what it means for me as a 16-year-old young woman growing up in today’s world.
In elementary school, there were times I was bullied by my classmates for being gifted and my mental health quickly declined leading up to middle school. It’s no secret that middle school is a particularly challenging time for girls, but now as a 16-year-old young woman with college on the horizon, I find myself wondering why it took three school counselors for me to finally get the support I needed. At one point, I was even turning to social media to self-diagnose myself.
The challenges facing girls today are difficult and demanding, often setting us on uphill battles from the moment we wake up. My mom, recognizing the unique hurdles I faced, understood that culturally competent therapy was imperative. Her advocacy for diversity in therapy was instrumental, and without her I might be facing a different future. She understood that effective therapy requires therapists familiar with diverse traditions, histories, beliefs, and languages.
When individuals don’t see themselves reflected in the spaces meant to support them, they may feel excluded or believe those spaces aren’t intended for them. That’s when we finally found Dabree Amrine-Jones (Mrs. Bree), a therapist provided through an organization called Pace Center for Girls (Pace), where I not only learned coping mechanisms but also cultivated self-love.
What stood out to me the most was Mrs. Bree not only looked like me, but she was trained in trauma-informed and gender-responsive therapy. Because there were so few examples of people who looked like me in pop culture, I distinctly remember the joy and validation that emerged when I found a counselor that looked like me. She understood that the way that girls learn and develop is unique, and trauma can alter the course of a girl’s life. While the youth mental health crisis touches every corner of society, it disproportionately impacts girls. I finally found a therapist that honed in on what it means to be a multifaceted girl in today’s world.
But let’s not congratulate ourselves prematurely. Many schools lack the resources and trained professionals to effectively address mental health, particularly specializing in therapy for girls. And when schools close their doors for summer, countless teenagers like me are left adrift, their struggles unaddressed in the absence of school counselors and therapists. Routine and access to support are lifelines for many of us, and without them, our mental health journey becomes significantly more challenging.
My journey is just one among many. As I set my sights on Hawaii Pacific University or North Carolina A&T, I carry with me the lessons of self-love learned through Mrs. Bree. I am raising my voice proudly for more institutions to provide trauma-informed, year-round mental health support for girls that doesn’t falter when the school bell stops ringing.
