When my son was just eight weeks and two days into his gestational period, I settled my anxiety of giving birth to a Black male. The night before I gave birth, unlike his twin sister, he was hovered up into the corner of my womb and his heart rate had begun to slow down. That following morning, he was born. Now 20, my Black son has dreams and aspirations but there is the threat of death in the air.
Alarmingly, maternal mortality rates for women living in the U.S. are the highest in the developed world with stark racial disparities. Black women specifically have the highest maternal mortality rate in the U.S. and are nearly four times more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes compared to White women.
From 2001 to 2015, the suicide risk for Black boys between the ages of 5 and 11 was two to three times higher than that of White boys, according to a new research letter in JAMA Pediatrics (Bridge, 2018). This concerning trend continues through adolescence as reported by the Nationwide Youth Risk Behavior Survey (Kann et al., 2017). The rates of attempted suicide, including attempts that resulted in an injury, poisoning, or overdose, are 1.2x higher among Black males compared to White males.
Over the last year, we have witnessed regular news media headlines coming out of Washington, D.C. with a state of shock, horror, and anger. Specifically, we have been alarmed by the rollback of protections for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ) youth and students.
“I would kill myself.” This is what a 70 year-old transgender woman told me recently when I asked what she would do if she needed long-term care. While this sounds dramatic, it is a common sentiment among older transgender and gender nonconforming (TGNC) adults (Witten, 2014). Many TGNC older adults do not have family caregivers available to meet their needs for assistance in later life, having been rejected and ostracized by their families of origin according to a study by Grant and colleagues (2011), and long-term care services may be their only option.
Protesters being marked with numbers, put in dog kennels and shot with rubber bullets. These do not sound like events that should occur in modern day America. Unfortunately, according to media reports, these are some of the first-hand accounts of what is happening in North Dakota as protests escalate over the Dakota Access Pipeline.
October 15th is National Latinx AIDS Awareness Day, and this year’s theme is “We’ll Defeat AIDS con Ganas!” But why is it important to talk about acquired immunodeficiency syndrome (AIDS) in the Latino community? Latinxs are disproportionally affected by the human immunodeficiency virus (HIV)—the virus that causes AIDS. Our community represents 17% of the total U.S. population, but accounts for 21% of all new HIV infections and 21% of people living with HIV. In addition, research shows that Latinxs are more likely to receive late diagnosis and HIV care compared to other races and ethnicities.
Through a very complete body of research, the field of psychology has established that a person’s identity is composed of several different parts. However, psychological research projects often only focus on one or two aspects of identity. As we move towards a more complete picture of human behavior, we must remember to keep in mind that the intersections of identity are a vital piece of that picture.
Rebecca, a former smoker featured in CDC’s Tips From Former Smokers campaign, started smoking cigarettes at age 16. Everyone in her family smoked, and once she started smoking, she quickly became addicted. She kept smoking into adulthood. While she tried to stop, she had difficulty quitting. “I probably tried to quit smoking at least half a dozen times, but the addiction was so strong.”
On August 11, 2016, the CDC released the results of the first national study of sexual minority high school students. These data show that LGB students experience far greater risks of violence and bullying than their heterosexual peers.