
By Sikivu Hutchinson
Alpha Centauri, A forthcoming short film by Sikivu Hutchinson, 2025 (l to r: Breanna Travis and Nicole Delorme)
“The world tried to teach me silence, but I found power in my voice..I had questions, and those questions led me to revolution.” Assata Shakur
The powerful insights of recently deceased poet and revolutionary Assata Shakur have deep resonance for the rising rates of suicide among Black girls and Black youth.Her quote highlights how the struggle to come to voice is a life and death matter for Black youth in a nation that profits from their erasure and demonization. Yet, despite greater attention to the dramatic increase in suicide among Black youth, discussions of suicide still remain taboo and largely under the radar in African American communities. According to the Pew Research Center, “The suicide rate among Black adolescents is increasing faster than other racial and ethnic groups. From 2007 to 2020, the suicide rate rose 144% among 10- to 17-year-olds who are Black”, while the suicide rate among youth overall has declined. Moreover, it has been estimated that the suicide rate among Black girls skyrocketed by 59% between 2003 and 2019. These trends, coupled with already high rates of suicide among queer Gen Z youth (CDC data indicate that 24% of Black youth identify as LGBT), underscore how urgent intersectional suicide prevention education and culturally responsive mental health care are for Black youth. As the National Institutes of Health note: “Black youth may express symptoms of depression — a risk factor for suicide — differently than their White peers,” and symptoms of suicide may be misdiagnosed. Hence, “When providers do not share this understanding or are not trained to provide culturally competent care, such behaviors are too often misclassified and met with extreme or inappropriate responses, including inpatient (rather than outpatient) treatment or disproportionate disciplinary actions. The effect is a deepened cultural mistrust of mental health professionals.”
Although Black youth across gender and sexuality are vulnerable to adultification, criminalization, colorism, and hypersexualization, these stigmas are especially acute for Black girls and young women versus Black boys and young men. At an early age, Black girls are constantly warned that they should be “feminine”, ladylike and respectable, and are often entrusted with caring and looking out for younger siblings and older family members. There probably isn’t a Black girl on the planet who hasn’t been admonished that the consequences for being “fast” (i.e., sexually loose) are potentially damning to her reputation. Admonitions about sexual propriety and caregiving are not expectations that are imposed on Black boys. Conforming to the dominant culture’s patriarchal gender roles, Black boys are simply not charged with fulfilling the same domestic and social responsibilities that Black girls are –- leading to different stressors and stigmas. This is not to discount the very real trauma young Black men and boys are experiencing with suicide and suicidal ideation; but simply to underscore the pernicious gender differences that society imposes upon both groups.
These double standards and stigmas have less than subtle religious and moralistic undertones. In my African American Humanism class this past spring at Pitzer College, Black female students spoke on how Christian religious policing predominated online and in physical church spaces vis-a-vis the sexual behavior of Black women and girls. Several students recounted how Black girls who became pregnant out of wedlock were shamed and “dissed” in their congregations as irresponsible “hos” with no morals. Obedience to God, the male pastor and reliance on prayer were portrayed as the most viable avenues to “redemption”. Victim-shaming of Black girls in white supremacist dominant culture and Black communities is a toxic tradition that can lead to anxiety, depression, suicidal ideation and self-harm. Normalized misogynoir, which is manifest in high rates of domestic and intimate partner violence, are also prominent factors in suicidality among Black girls and women. According to the Lancet Journal, Black women are subjected to domestic violence, gun violence and homicide at younger ages and with greater frequency than any other group of women in the U.S. Indeed, mainstream media focus on mass shootings often obscure the everyday trauma and emotional toll of gun violence on Black women victims and survivors. Black women across generations are more likely to die at the hands of a loved one or community member while acting as the primary caregivers for their families. News stories (when they appear at all) about Black women being killed by current and former partners have become so commonplace that no one bats an eye or thinks to characterize these atrocities as femicide.
Right wing “Law and Order” Second Amendment zealots frequently vilify Black communities about “Black on Black” crime while pushing for more guns, prisons, and anti-Black surveillance. The Trump regime’s defunding of the Department of Education, Centers for Disease Center research, social justice, arts and STEM nonprofit providers, as well as suicide and mental health hotlines further marginalizes and demonizes the preventative care and education that vulnerable communities rely on for harm reduction.
Given these disparities and attacks, it’s important to uplift trauma-informed suicide prevention strategies that come from the perspectives of community youth. This is especially critical when considering suicidal ideation triggers such as domestic and sexual violence, homelessness, financial stress, being in foster care and being incarcerated. The scarcity of culturally specific mental health, prevention education and youth leadership resources aimed at reducing intersectional harm also places vulnerable youth at risk for other forms of targeted violence such as grooming and sex trafficking.
In my forthcoming short film, Alpha Centauri, I highlight the experiences of a young Black girl protagonist and aspiring aerospace engineer in foster care who is being preyed on by an older male trafficker in her neighborhood. The older man constantly praises her for her intelligence and uniqueness. Part of the grooming process involves flattery, attention and emphasis on how “special” the young target is. As a filmmaker and mentor, I wanted to illustrate the nuances of grooming for African American girls who are consistently told, either implicitly or explicitly, that they are undesirable, disposable and “ghetto”. In the absence of other forms of adult (and especially adult male) affirmation, the groomer’s seemingly benign, “positive” attention can play an outsized role in boosting the young person’s sense of self-esteem. Mainstream media focus on high profile sex trafficking cases involving disgraced Black male music icons like R. Kelly and P. Diddy often obscures the everyday ordinary drivers of sex trafficking. Black girls who come from foster care, incarceration and precarious living situations with minimal parent or caregiver support are the most vulnerable to abuse, depression, and, ultimately, suicidal ideation.
The young protagonist’s close relationship with a nonconforming Black female friend who identifies as queer provides her with a path toward healing and recovery. The friend pushes her to question the predator’s motives and hold space for her own dreams and aspirations, challenging the limited expectations that adults have projected onto her. While every youth doesn’t necessarily have close supportive peers who are willing to listen and interrogate warning signs and red flags, these kinds of relationships can be an important complement to culturally responsive mental health care from a professional therapist (especially in an era where Chat GPT has become a potentially dangerous avenue for mental health care for suicidal young people). In the midst of a dominant culture that is inherently toxic towards Black girls in particular and Black youth in general, training Black youth to be active, empathetic listeners to their peers is a critical strategy for collective wellbeing. As a result of increased awareness about the power of youth agency and advocacy in peer relationships, some campuses and community organizations have developed peer educator and mentor programs that provide holistic mental health support in the form of circles, role play, movement activities, journaling and art therapy.
Addressing rising rates of suicide amongst Black youth requires a multi-pronged approach that goes beyond hotlines and therapy. In a sociopolitical context where Black girls, Black queer youth and Black youth overall are demonized, prevention is just as important as intervention. Real prevention education is based on love, mutuality, critical consciousness and respect for the agency and bodily autonomy of vulnerable people and communities. Creating and maintaining these youth spaces is imperative for beating back the right wing authoritarian tide that seeks to silence the power in Black girls’ voices.
Suicide Prevention and Mental Health Resources (From L.A. Opportunity Youth Collaborative):
- Los Angeles Department of Mental Health Suicide Prevention Resources
- 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. Call or text 988, available 24/7, 365 days a year
- Disaster Distress Helpline 1–800–985–5990, available 24/7, 365 days a year
- Crisis Text Line Text LA to 741741, available 24/7
- DMH Helpline 800–854–7771. Veteran Line- Ext. 3
- Life Assistance Program 1–800–538–3543
- LAUSD Student and Family Wellness Hotline 213–241–3840 Mon-Fri 8am-5pm
- Teen Line: Text TEEN to 839863 (calls from 6pm-10pm PST, chat, email and text 6–9pm ) and 1–800–852–8336 (6pm-10pm PST)
- Trevor Project (24/7) 1–866–488–7386
- Trans Lifeline 1–877–565–8860 Available 7am-1am
- LGBT National Hotline 1–888–843–4564
- SAGE LGBT Elder Hotline 1–877–360-LGBT LA OYC | Suicide Prevention: The Question, Persuade, Refer Model
- National Queer & Trans Therapists of Color Network www.nqttcn.com
Mental Health Resources for African American Girls and Young Women
#Standing4BlackGirls Wellness Initiative, provides free individual therapy for Black girls across sexuality and gender expansive youth in L.A. County in partnership with Open Paths Counseling in Inglewood, California. The founding organization Women’s Leadership Project is a Black feminist mentoring and civic engagement program for BIPOC girls of color and LGBTQ+ youth
Wellness Action Recovery South Carolina-based suicide prevention nonprofit fun by Black female suicide survivor Fonda Bryant
Sadie Nash Leadership Project provides award-winning experiential social justice education to over 500 young women and gender-expansive youth in New York City and Newark
Therapy for Black Girls provides national resources for therapy, counseling, and outreach in addition to a mental health blog and podcast
What’s Missing from the Conversation about Black Women and Suicide with Dr. Jeannette Wade and Dr. Michelle Vance, whose work centers on suicide research & intervention among Black women and girls.


