Hidden in plain sight, the mental health of the black male is completely misunderstood.

Like Frankenstein to his monster, the plight of the American black boy is a democratic experiment that never went according to the plan. Bastardized in his own home, and unloved by so many of his neighbors, he often suffers in silence. Is the American dream for him? Is he truly allowed to be happy?

Perpetually living as the ‘bad guy’ he is deeply engulfed in an imposter syndrome where he must constantly fight to not appear as the threatening, scary, angry, evil, thug, crooked, lazy, or, just the good for nothing person that he is already prejudged to be. Still, somehow, he maintains an image of a solid rock that can never be broken, and ego that can never be hurt.

If he is still human how does he constantly live up to this publicly digestible version of himself and not break? Has he become it? Or is it his only way for survival? Does he know the difference between him and his mask? Does everyone else? When can he be himself? Does he even remember who that is? Why can’t he have an ego like the white boys do? Why can’t he be an All-American black boy? Why is his pursuit of happiness tainted? Why are so many people uncomfortable with the thought of him being on top?

</Black Boy Sad>