As women of color open up about mental health, some still seek the traditional route to enlightenment, and one Atlanta woman proves that this is okay.
By: Aaleah Naomi McConnell
Avianna Johnson, 22, wakes up each morning and doesn’t leave the house without completing her morning routine, getting dressed and adorning the top of her head with an extravagant head-wrap. The reason Johnson has repeated each day like this for the past three years is that she is a practicing Hebrew Israelite – and proud of it.
As a uniquely carved religious niche, fashioned out of biblical allegory and powered by the sweat of the black power movement, the Hebrew Israelites have been accused of extremism, racism, and misogyny. And their foundational belief, that certain members of the BIPOC community are the true depiction of the theological Hebrews, has garnered them many critics.
Thought leaders of The Jewish community especially disagree with the statistical basis of this religious identity.
Despite bad actors of the faith who are extremists, Hebrew Israelites are not a monolith, and certain aspects of the faith have appealed to Johnson as a black woman. Since these aspects motivate Johnson to create a healthier mental space, maybe there are some values here that are worth giving a closer look, through her eyes.
Johnson didn’t grow up in the most devout Christian household, but she always believed in a higher power. Except, to her, it never sat right abiding by traditional, Anglo-Saxon ideals of Christianity once used to manipulate and oppress enslaved Blacks. And Johnson often noticed insincerity peaking through the gaps between what is preached in church and what is practiced outside of church walls.
“So I started to think more into African spirituality,” said Johnson in search of a deeper spiritual connection, “I just felt closer to my people and my roots. I just feel like that’s where my spirit was drawing me.”
It was after being introduced to her boyfriend – who in turn, introduced her to the Hebrew Israelite belief – that Johnson felt as if two prayers had been answered. One was to find a midpoint between the word of God and Black identity, and another for a faithful companion in God.
Johnson has dealt with skepticism and ridicule from her parents, being the only one in her household who identifies as a Hebrew Israelite. Her boyfriend takes some of the heat too. But Johnson says she is grateful to her boyfriend for introducing an ideology that has brought her greater peace of mind.
Reoccurrences of uncertainty and anxiety have riddled Johnson’s past, along with insecurities and long-held grudges that proved to be emotionally detrimental. “I’m more prone to [saying] you’re not gonna talk to me any kind of way, [I’m] barely gonna forgive you. You know, that’s not a great way to be and it’s something that I’m working on…” said Johnson.
Like many who adopt a new faith, Johnson is in pursuit of personal and spiritual regeneration, driven by the promise of deliverance. “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me,” is a part of the Bible that Johnson reveres as a personal proclamation and is evidence of her dedication to work through old wounds. This scripture, Psalms 51:10, is one that Johnson recites at the start and end of each day.
But her connection with God, or Yahweh as Johnson says, is not the only relationship that she’s strengthening.
Johnson found comradery within this community of like-minded people. And traditional practices observed by the faith reinforce this tightly knit network. One such observance, that takes place in October, is the Feast of Tabernacles. This week-long period is dedicated to spiritual purification and reconciliation, during which Johnson and other members of her faith gather to replenish their bodies with food and reconnect with loved ones.
A more prominent act of solidarity amongst Hebrew Israelite women is the practice of covering their hair. As a Hebrew Israelite, the act of covering one’s hair is symbolic of not only God’s protection through his word, functioning as a veil of prayer, but also the protection a woman receives from her husband. And while many of the women, including Johnson, believe that men are the head of the household, not all Hebrew Israelite women wrap their hair.
“In the culture, you don’t have to wear it 24/7, but the belief is that you should always be in prayer,” Johnson said. And since 2019, Johnson has found herself doing just that – living in prayer.
And as Black women, religion has been a way of curtailing stress and anxiety by instilling hope in times of turbulence, and by offering faith-based coping mechanisms to help overcome daily prejudices.
Licensed Professional Counselor, Alona Joseph, says due to religious links deeply embedded within Black and Brown culture, generations of Black women have placed their trust in religion to gain self-awareness and mental well-being.
“The spiritual aspect of life is very strong within our culture,” said Joseph, “I can remember learning at a very young age that when you’re having challenges with your feelings you go to church. Unfortunately, that’s not always enough.”
While this may be the case, there are a number of reasons that deter Black women from seeking professional psychological help. So naturally, for many decades the default treatment for symptoms of depression and anxiety amongst the Black community has been faith.
And though some may argue with the ideology of Hebrew Israelites, they can’t deny that religious exercises such as prayer, symbolic dress and communal observances bear a close resemblance to some psychological health practices.
“I’ve been through points [in my life] were having peace of mind didn’t come easy. Now that I am at a point where I have peace of mind, I try to maintain that,” said Johnson.
So, whether your mental health journey is religiously motivated or not, Johnson proves that there is no shame in finding inner peace in the best way that suits you.