Global Comment

Where the world thinks out loud

How Rap is Breaking the Stigma Around Mental Illness

Kanye West in performance

Halfway through his song “DNA,” Kendrick Lamar sampled a recording of Fox News commentator Geraldo Rivera saying, “This is why I say hip-hop has done more damage to young, African Americans than racism in recent years.” Rivera referred to a music video in which Lamar performed on top of a police car, which Rivera felt instigated an “us-versus-them mentality” that sends the wrong message to African-American children and thus contributes to poor race relations.

Although this is a famous example in pop culture, the idea that hip-hop and rap employ dangerous themes isn’t new and certainly didn’t start with Rivera. The genre has long endured a poor reputation criticized for explicit content, violence, derogatory language towards women, drug references, and other topics — but rap artists have also always used the genre to speak out about important issues that affect minority communities. Recently, some of today’s most prominent rappers and hip-hop artists have increasingly emphasized a topic that often goes ignored among Black communities and men: mental health.

African Americans are 20 percent more likely to suffer from a mental health condition than the general population, but only about 25 percent seek mental health care during their lifetimes (compared to 40 percent of white people). Similarly, men comprise 77 percent of total suicides in the United States, yet are far less likely than women to seek mental health treatment. Social stigma and lack of support from family and friends are major obstacles for men and minorities that other communities don’t suffer on the same scale.

Consider the constant pressure on males to “be a man” and internalize their emotions as well as the disproportionate number of misdiagnoses and lack of cultural competence that affect Black people seeking mental health treatment. These barriers to care are largely socially created and perpetuated, which means they can be socially deconstructed — and plenty of rap artists are working to do just that. 

Kendrick Lamar

Lamar himself was one of the first to release a popular contemporary rap song about mental illness.

He told Rolling Stone that his song “u” addresses his “insecurities and selfishness and letdowns.”

I know your secrets
Mood swings is frequent
I know depression is restin’ on your heart for two reasons …
And if this bottle could talk
I cry myself to sleep
B*tch everything is your fault…
I know your secrets
Don’t let me tell them to the world
About that sh*t you thinkin’
And if I told your secrets
The world’ll know money can’t stop a suicidal weakness

It’s clear that the song tackles emotional pain: his voice cracks and sounds choked, as though he’s holding back tears, throughout the second half of the song, and he’s been praised for writing about the drawbacks of becoming a successful artist such as sometimes being unavailable to his loved ones.

Logic

The 27-year-old mixed-race rapper’s been handling heavy themes in his songs for a while now, from the politically-charged “America” to his own mental illness in tracks such as “Anziety.” Purposely misspelled, “Anziety” is Logic’s exploration of his struggles with anxiety, and a spoken-word verse describes his first panic attack.

It starts:

It was December of 2015 in sunny Los Angeles California in the heart of Hollywood
I stood next to my wife
In a line surrounded by hundreds of other people on our way to watch Star Wars
When suddenly I was engulfed with fear and panic
As my body began to fade
In this moment my mind was full of clarity
But my body insisted it was in danger
I looked around and I told myself I was safe, I was fine
But I was convinced that something was wrong
Before I knew it I felt as though I was going to
Fall and fade away

In another one of his most popular songs, Logic said he wrote “1-800-273-8255” (the number of the National Suicide Hotline) for his fans who struggle with suicidal ideation.

He wrote in a tweet, “I made this song for all of you who are in a dark place and can’t seem to find the light,” and later said he’s had countless fans tell him that his music has saved their lives. The song tells the story of a person contemplating suicide who calls the Hotline, taking the first step towards getting help:

Pain don’t hurt the same, I know
The lane I travel feels alone
But I’m moving ’til my legs give out
And I see my tears melt in the snow
But I don’t wanna cry
I don’t wanna cry anymore
I wanna feel alive
I don’t even wanna die anymore

Kid Cudi

On October 4, 2016, popular artist Kid Cudi took to social media to break barriers. He wrote in a lengthy Facebook post, “Its been difficult for me to find the words to what Im about to share with you because I feel ashamed. Ashamed to be a leader and hero to so many while admitting I’ve been living a lie … Yesterday I checked myself into rehab for depression and suicidal urges. I am not at peace. I haven’t been since you’ve known me. If I didn’t come here, I wouldve done something to myself. I simply am a damaged human swimming in a pool of emotions everyday of my life.”

In his emotional post, the rapper discussed how he has been dealing with anxiety and depression and how he’s finally working to get help for himself. Something interesting, however, is how even in this expression of vulnerability, he said he felt “ashamed” — reflecting how saddeningly often people (especially men and Black people) are conditioned to feel shame for their vulnerability and like they aren’t good enough as a result of their pain. By opening up so honestly, he not only showed himself — a Black man — reaching out to help himself out of a low point, but he did so in a way that his fans could probably relate to. Realizing that even a successful musician feels shame in getting help could be an important step for people in similar situations who are unsure about doing the same.

Kanye West

By now, most rap fans know about Kanye’s new album, ye, and how it explores his bipolar disorder. Before a single song begins, he honestly demonstrates life with mental illness — the words, “I hate being Bi-Polar it’s awesome” stretch across the cover. He continues the theme right into the very first song, “I Thought About Killing You.”

The most beautiful thoughts are always besides the darkest
Today I seriously thought about killing you
I contemplated, premeditated murder
And I think about killing myself, and I love myself way more than I love you, so
And carries it throughout “Yikes” —
“That’s my bipolar shit, n—a what
That’s my superpower, n—a ain’t no disability
I’m a superhero! I’m a superhero!

Throughout the other songs on the album, Kanye addresses other aspects of his life that involve emotional or vulnerable moments, from arguing with his wife to reflecting upon his previous objectification of women now that he has daughters. The raw honesty is both refreshing and necessary — by letting listeners into these parts of his life, he also lets them know that it’s acceptable for them to do the same.

Music is a platform, and for these minority men to discuss mental illness and talk openly about treatment has major implications — not just for members of those communities, but for anyone who listens to their music. They’re telling us that anyone can struggle with mental illness, and everyone should feel empowered to seek help.

Photo: Ultra 5280/Creative Commons