Thanks for this list. Another memoir is Linda Gask's THE OTHER SIDE OF SILENCE, which I happen to discuss in my substack newsletter, MENTAL(IZING) HEALTH.
And of course there are also many terrific first person accounts by psychologists and social workers.
I was meeting today with two of my students--both of whom are young Black women--to develop a reading and research list for them about mental health/illness in Black women. The only memoir I know is old, "Willow Weep For Me." (And the section on Naomi in "Strangers" wondering if anyone here knows of others? Aside from the fact that publishing is quite white, I'm wondering is personal and public narratives aren't a main way Black women make sense of their experiences. What do you all think? I have articles, interviews, documentaries about Black women's peri-natal morbidity and mortality and those do get at the impossibility of the expectations to be a "strong black women"
I truly enjoy the process of writing for your blog. Your edits are considered and helpful, and maybe that part is my favorite, Awais.
Thanks for this list. Another memoir is Linda Gask's THE OTHER SIDE OF SILENCE, which I happen to discuss in my substack newsletter, MENTAL(IZING) HEALTH.
And of course there are also many terrific first person accounts by psychologists and social workers.
Thanks for platforming us!
I was meeting today with two of my students--both of whom are young Black women--to develop a reading and research list for them about mental health/illness in Black women. The only memoir I know is old, "Willow Weep For Me." (And the section on Naomi in "Strangers" wondering if anyone here knows of others? Aside from the fact that publishing is quite white, I'm wondering is personal and public narratives aren't a main way Black women make sense of their experiences. What do you all think? I have articles, interviews, documentaries about Black women's peri-natal morbidity and mortality and those do get at the impossibility of the expectations to be a "strong black women"