When Ray Burgos Jr. began to feel like he was always falling behind in life, he blamed himself.
The 25-year-old artist and college student from Houston tried to keep everything together: Classes, creative work and part-time jobs, but the weight kept growing.
“I was trying to balance school, jobs and my art while everyone else seemed to have it easier,” he said. “It made me feel down, depressed even. Like I was always behind.”
At first, Burgos thought he just needed to work harder or push through the sadness. But the more he tried to ignore it, the heavier it became. “I didn’t really talk to anyone about how I was feeling,” he said. “I just kind of shut down.”
Raised in a deeply religious family, Burgos said the idea of therapy felt foreign, even frowned upon.
“My mom’s side is super Baptist,” he said. “Pray, read your Bible and you’ll be okay.’ But that wasn’t enough for me.”
His quiet struggle mirrors what many young Black Houstonians face today, carrying expectations, economic pressure and social comparison while feeling isolated from spaces where they can safely talk about mental health. Advocates say that silence is often where depression and substance use begin.
October marks Depression Awareness and Substance Use Prevention Month and local advocates say it’s time to confront a hard truth that for many Black youth, silence is the most dangerous habit of all.
When faith isn’t enough
At first, Burgos believed his struggle was a personal failure, not a mental health issue. “I figured I just needed to be tougher,” he said. “That’s what I was taught growing up. Keep it together, don’t show weakness.”
The Black Men Project Founder Brian Ellison said emotional honesty is a radical act for Black men who’ve been taught to suppress vulnerability.
“If you only have anger and silence to express yourself, you’re missing your full humanity,” he said. “Art gives that back, it lets you release what words can’t say.”
The organization’s workshops unite men and boys to create, share and simply sit in their feelings.
“When fathers cry in front of sons, when brothers open up to brothers, that’s healing,” Ellison said. “That’s the cultural shift we need.”
Dr. Nathan Barclay is a licensed clinical psychologist at the Coping Resource Center. Barclay works with young adults struggling with anxiety, depression and substance use.
“When young people feel unseen by family, school, or society, that’s when depression sets in,” Barclay said. “Substances, overworking, social media, they all become ways to
Dr. Nathan Barclay
fill that emptiness.”
“When young people feel unseen by family, school or society, that’s when depression sets in,” Barclay said. “Substances, overworking, social media, they all become ways to fill that emptiness.”
Barclay runs group therapy sessions, where young people name emotions and replace harmful coping mechanisms with healthier ones.
“It’s not about fixing kids,” he said. “It’s about giving them tools and connection, showing them they matter.”
According to the National Institute of Mental Health, nearly one in five Black adults experiences depression, but only a third receive treatment. For adolescents, that treatment gap is even wider.
“People can’t access care that doesn’t exist or that they don’t trust,” Barclay said. “And in many Black families, therapy is still seen as something for other people.”
That distrust is rooted in history, from medical racism to economic inequality and continues to shape who feels safe seeking care. For many, churches remain the primary source of support and Barclay says faith and therapy can coexist. “Prayer is powerful,” he said. “But God also works through therapists, through medicine, through community. Healing isn’t one-size-fits-all.”
According to the Health and Human Services Office of Minority Health, Black adults in the U.S. are more likely than white adults to report persistent symptoms of emotional distress, such as sadness, hopelessness and feeling like everything is an effort.
Ellison believes a generational change is already underway. “Young people are finally saying, ‘I’m not okay,’” he said. “That’s huge. It means the silence is breaking.”
Still, awareness alone isn’t enough. Prevention requires investment in accessible clinics, culturally grounded programs and school-based mental health education that meets youth where they are.
“When we talk about prevention,” Barclay said, “we’re talking about saving lives before they reach the crisis point.”
He’s still figuring out how to balance faith, therapy, and art, but he’s learned one truth he wants other young Black people to know.
“You can’t hustle your way out of depression,” he said. “You’ve got to talk, breathe and let people in. You can’t do this alone.”
According to the American Psychiatric Association’s Mental Health Facts for African Americans guide, they are also:
- Less likely to receive guideline-consistent care
- Less frequently included in research
- More likely to use emergency rooms or primary care (rather than mental health specialists)
