Courtney B. Vance, a Tony awardee and two-time Emmy winner, is best known for his roles in “The Hunt for Red October” and “The Tuskegee Airmen,” among others.
On Saturday, he set aside his acting chops to talk about his mental health and his most recent written work, “The Invisible Ache: Black Men Identifying Their Pain and Reclaiming Their Power” at the University of Chicago’s Black Men’s Mental Health and Wellness Symposium.
The keynote speaker co-wrote what he called a “love letter to Black men,” in which he details his own struggles, as well as the losses of his father and godson to suicide.
He said part of the journey was recognizing that things could get better when he reached out to others.
“I’m just a mess today, but if I can get my mess in order, there might be a brighter tomorrow,” said Vance, who alternates chapters in the book with psychologist Robin Smith. “You have to have faith that these things come to pass.”
Vance first dove into his process of finding a therapist, meeting with eight different professionals before finding the right one for him. He said part of what made the almost yearlong ordeal take longer was initially thinking he had to find a therapist who matched him in appearance.
“Sometimes you think your therapist needs to look like you,” Vance said. “[But] as soon as I shook her hand, I knew I was home.”
One of the chapters of his book is titled “Black boys don’t cry,” referencing a long-held notion he said contributed to the mental health crisis Black men and boys currently face.
The expectation not to outwardly express sadness or seek help for depression was something he said he had struggled with, much like his father — which made him strive to handle things differently.
“I’ve sat with this pain my whole life. I can take some time,” Vance said. “I’m not going to settle. My daddy had to settle because he had responsibilities and it cost him everything. He went as far as he could doing what he knew, but that was another generation.”
Sam Hill and his brother attended the talk Saturday morning, saying Vance’s experience with generational stigmas and expectations struck a chord with them.
He said the two had made a conscious effort to make it so that the younger men in his life knew it was okay to show their emotions and say things like “I love you.”
“Our dad, he didn’t really talk about things,” Hill said. “Some of those things we didn’t grow up having, I wanted to sort of break that barrier.”
Vance left off the discussion on a bittersweet but hopeful note while dabbing tears from his eyes.
“If [my father] had just been able to hold on just a little longer,” Vance said, trailing off while choking up. “We’ve all had moments of despair, but if we just hold on, we can get through it. … Find your people, find your village, find your health. It’s on us, the living, to survive.”
