Hello Again!
Thank you for visiting me!
Let’s start with this lovely statement that was made to me yesterday by a fellow resident. She said:
“Suritah, it’s like you go into this wormhole to do research and study women from the past.”
It’s almost as if I’m looking to the past to understand the present—and to see how it might shape my future. I love the way Alessia put it. I truly do love researching mythology, legends, tales, and short stories. Within that, I especially love reading about strong women—whether in myth or in history.
I never really felt like I belonged anywhere. I wasn’t raised with a strong foundation. I always yearned for someone to look up to because those examples weren’t present in my home.
In grade school, it was my second-grade art teacher who told me, “Of course you can live your life as an artist.” In my teens, it was the beautiful Sandra Young, who owned the very first Afrocentric store I ever walked into. She invited me to participate in my very first group art exhibition when I was just 18.
I’ve had chosen aunties, uncles, godparents, big sisters—but nothing stuck, and no one stayed. I’ve had to navigate this journey largely on my own, sometimes making decisions far beyond my years. At times, it’s been incredibly isolating—often lonely.
These feelings have followed me into creative spaces, too. My disability is not visible—I’m losing my hearing—and I’ve been actively working on my mental health. There have been times when I’ve disclosed my mental health challenges, only to be met with mockery, misunderstanding, or outright doubt. These experiences have pushed me into further isolation.
I don’t often speak about my mental health because I don’t know how people will respond. I also don’t want to deal with the stereotypes or the backlash that often come with that vulnerability.
Depression and Anxiety:
A 2021 study found that nearly two-thirds of Black individuals in Canada reported severe depressive symptoms, with rates higher among women. During the early months of the COVID-19 pandemic, 27.9% of Black visible-minority respondents reported fair or poor self-rated mental health, compared to 22.9% of White respondents. Additionally, 32% reported symptoms consistent with moderate to severe generalized anxiety disorder, versus 24.2% of White respondents.
Impact of Discrimination:
Lifetime experiences of racial discrimination are strongly linked to negative mental health outcomes, including chronic stress and trauma.
(Source: The Centre for Addiction and Mental Health)
Talking about access looks different for me, based on my lived experience. When I think of access, I think about what I’m invited to participate in. I’m talking about acceptance—through the lens of a Black woman. Others can listen and empathize, but they can never truly understand what that means unless they come from my community.
My mental health challenges are not visible. My hearing loss is not visible. My skin color is visible.
I’d love to say I never think about my skin color when entering new spaces—but that wouldn’t be true. There have been spaces where I’ve felt incredibly welcomed, and others where I’ve felt silently judged. Of course, I often feel safest within my own community—but even there, at times, I’ve felt out of place.
So I often ask myself: “Where do I go?”
Where do I go to feel safe, to feel accepted?
I go to my research.
I go to the stories.
The tales.
The folk.
The myths.
These stories keep me excited. They allow me to dream. They help me imagine a world filled with love, strength, and understanding. I look to the powerhouses from our past—like one of my heroes, Victoria Santa Cruz—a monumental figure not only in the Afro-Latinx community but for Black women everywhere.
This is our Black Girl Anthem.
Victoria broke barriers. She opened doors—and when there were none, she built her own.
She didn’t ask for permission. She paved her own path.
In the face of racism, she said:
“I am Black. So what?”
I am not defined by my skin. I am not defined by my mental health.
I am defined by my character.
I don’t feel as strong as I’d like to—but I am a continuous work in progress.
I will keep building doors and tables.
I will continue to show up in spaces because of my skills and talents—and nothing else.
I will keep looking to the tales, dreaming up new worlds, and creating,
so I can be a part of the beauty in this one.
(Please turn on Captions for english translation)
