What We Ask of Black Men; and What It Costs

Every June, Men's Mental Health Month offers an opportunity to have conversations that don't happen nearly enough. While awareness around mental health has grown, many men still feel pressure to carry whatever they're facing without letting anyone else see the weight of it. For Black men, that expectation often exists alongside other pressures that can make vulnerability feel complicated.

The numbers tell part of the story. According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), suicide is the third leading cause of death for Black men between the ages of 15 and 24. Black men also die by suicide at four times the rate of Black women. Statistics like these remind us that mental health isn't a niche issue or a seasonal conversation. It's something affecting families, friendships, workplaces, and communities every day.

At The Elizabeth Gaye Foundation, we believe one of the most meaningful ways to challenge stigma is by making room for honest dialogue. That's what led us to sit down with artist and creative Dru Clay, a California native who has become an outspoken advocate for men's mental health. Throughout our conversation, Dru spoke with the kind of honesty that doesn't pretend to have every answer. Instead, he reflected on what he's learned, what he's still working through, and why paying attention to your mental health matters long before you're in crisis.

For Dru, mental health begins with a question rather than a definition.

"How strong is your foundation of self currently?"

That's what comes to mind whenever he hears the phrase "mental health." He describes it as stabilization—a way of checking in with yourself before life forces you to. His understanding of mental health hasn't changed much over the years, but his willingness to pay attention to it has. That distinction says a lot. Awareness isn't just recognizing when something is wrong; it's developing the habit of asking yourself how you're really doing before things begin to unravel.

Like many men, Dru grew up with messages about toughness and emotional control. Looking back, he sees those lessons with more nuance than certainty.

"It's a hindrance and an honor rolled in one," he told us.

He credits that mindset with helping him become resilient and confident in his ability to overcome challenges. At the same time, he recognizes what it can cost.

"Asking for help or letting people see you down is a death sentence for most men."

It's a difficult contradiction. The same beliefs that teach boys to persevere can also make it harder for men to reach out when they need support. Too often, strength is measured by how much someone can carry instead of whether they know when to put something down.

When we asked Dru about the mental health challenges Black men face, his response shifted the conversation in an unexpected direction. Rather than separating Black men from other men, he pointed to a larger cultural problem.

"I don't think there is any real unique challenge a Black man faces that hasn't been talked about in some capacity," he said. "Mental health is rarely ever talked about or taken serious in the male community, not just the Black community."

His perspective doesn't dismiss the realities Black men experience. Instead, it highlights how often men's emotional well-being is treated as an afterthought. The expectation to keep moving, keep producing, and keep everything together leaves little room for honesty about fear, grief, anxiety, or exhaustion.

Those lessons often begin early. Dru remembers growing up in an environment where vulnerability could easily be mistaken for weakness. But he also remembers being taught something that has stayed with him into adulthood.

"Figure out your emotions before they figure you out."

There's wisdom in that idea. It isn't about ignoring emotions or pretending they don't exist. It's about understanding them before they begin making decisions for you. Even now, Dru admits that asking for help is something he still struggles with, despite believing that everyone needs support at some point. That admission may be one of the most relatable parts of our conversation. Growth doesn't erase old habits overnight.

When it comes to protecting his own mental health, Dru doesn't talk about chasing balance or perfection. He talks about making time for the things that restore him. Creating. Praying. Exercising. Stepping outside.

"The sun gives off energy that helps you recoup," he said. "Go for a walk. You'll love it."

His approach is refreshingly uncomplicated. Caring for your mental health doesn't always begin with a major life change. Sometimes it starts by making space for yourself in the middle of an ordinary day.

Our conversation eventually turned to therapy, an area where stigma continues to keep many people from seeking help. Dru compared going to therapy to walking into a gym for the first time. People often stay away because they're worried they'll look out of place or that everyone else knows something they don't. In reality, everyone is there because they want to become healthier.

"If more people spoke out about their therapeutic experiences," he said, "it would open floodgates."

It's an image that stays with you. The more openly people talk about therapy, the more it becomes something ordinary instead of something to fear.

Before we wrapped up, we asked Dru one final question: What would you tell your younger self?

His answer came without hesitation.

"Confidence is key. Never doubt yourself. Let others do that for you."

It's easy to hear those words as encouragement, but they also carry something deeper. Confidence isn't believing you'll never struggle. It's believing you're worthy of support when you do. That's a conversation worth having in June, and every month after.