Capital B: What would you say to someone who may be feeling these emotions of despair or distress for the first time?

Raquel Martin: I would say it’s normal. Especially for Black people, Black women, there’s something we call “resistance fatigue,” and it’s a typical burnout that you face from long-term advocacy and having to fight against injustice for so long. It’s real. You carry the weight of having to fight against the machine from day one knowing the systemic injustices, and that tires me out a lot, especially when the solution that you think will be helpful, or the option that you think would be the most beneficial to the world, does not present itself. But the need for rest does not make you less of an actor in resistance. This doesn’t mean you give up. It just means that you are human, and I see that as an aspect of taking a step back so you can come back to your full self.

Once people have come to understand these feelings, what is the typical next step?

I think the one thing we can do as a collective is rest. Understand that we have the tools to fight this, as history has shown us time and time again. But I don’t think that’s something we need to do right now. I think it’s important to feel the emotions and acknowledge the grief. Grief is an indicator of how much you are actually investing in this situation. It’s an indicator of how much you care. Because if you didn’t care, if you didn’t stand for something, you wouldn’t be grieving at all. Grieving is an act of love. So I would say: “Mourn.” And I also tell my patients – because I work with a lot of advocates and activists – that I would say the goal shouldn’t be to get over it or get rid of it quickly because, as a Black, I consider us to be incredibly dehumanized.

One of the aspects of dehumanization is to deprive us of human qualities such as negative emotions, such as sadness, such as anger, and I ask us not to dehumanize ourselves as the world has done. Dehumanization and adultification are the fuels of white supremacy. And by not recognizing our emotions, by not recognizing our feelings, we dehumanize ourselves as others do. I encourage us not to do this. Rest is an act of strength, and it is necessary that you preserve yourself for the journey ahead, for it truly is a journey.

How can we collectively respond to this grief in ways that combat feelings of isolation and individualism?

I think a lot of people are dealing with collective grief. This is a necessary response to what we can consider as we prepare for a potentially traumatic event, and we also know what has happened before: the increase in racist incidents. So we grieve at the thought of what we see is going to happen. And I think that’s okay. Acknowledging your grief without judgment is, I believe, the first step to honoring your truth and knowing and acknowledging the fact that you are human. I think the ones who aren’t grieving are the ones who got what they wanted. You may be upset. Why wouldn’t you be?

I would also say that if you are struggling, try to find comfort in those who are willing to support you. Community is incredibly necessary. Therapy is not the only path to recovery. Whatever path you take through difficult times, it will be shaped by your communities. Connect with those who understand and support you; find spaces where you feel seen, heard and valued. Consider all the places where you feel like you need to hide your true self or co-opt your personality. Limit your time in these spaces. Instead, think about the environments in which you feel happiest and experience lasting joy. Spend time with these people and immerse yourself in these communities. Finally, set boundaries with individuals or spaces that drain your energy.

What if someone came to you and said they didn’t really know how to get full rest? What would you recommend?

Well, I think one of the problems is that everyone was constantly tuning into the news, feeling the need to stay informed every step of the way, as if that was the only way to contribute. One way to rest is to limit media consumption. I always say if there’s a zombie apocalypse, you’ll know about it. If something important happens, you’ll know about it. Taking a step back means recognizing that you need a break from being on all the time. So, limit your media consumption; take a step back from the news and social media. Constant exposure to ads can be truly overwhelming, especially for Black people who are often inundated with negative portrayals. Taking a conscious break can be incredibly helpful.

Practicing self-compassion is also important. Give yourself permission to take a break. Many of us don’t recognize our exhaustion; we carry so much stuff and it is necessary to take care of ourselves. Find comfort in self-compassion, community care, unplugging, and acknowledging your grief, because you cannot address what you do not acknowledge. If you don’t recognize that it’s difficult and you’re grieving, you won’t be able to fix it.

I want to add that some people say they are not surprised by the continued transgressions and racism they face. However, numbness to these problems is a sign that you are also struggling. Just because you’ve had this problem for a long time doesn’t mean everything is fine. You might say you expected it, but preparing for a difficult event doesn’t lessen its impact. You can prepare for it, but that doesn’t mean you won’t feel that punch in the gut, and that’s okay.

I will never tell anyone to feel bad because of their compassion and hope. Expecting nothing may seem like a way to protect yourself from disappointment, but blocking yourself from all feelings also blocks the good. So don’t feel stupid or naive for having compassion and hope in a world like ours. This doesn’t make you weak; it makes you human. It’s completely normal to be disappointed by what happened or to express that you were hoping for better results. There’s nothing wrong with that. Don’t feel stupid for having compassion and hope in the face of a broken system; it’s a value we should all hold.