Atlanta club wants black men to ‘kill their pride’ to save their sanity

He learned that the source of his anger was grief. Smith’s father died of diabetes eight years before the turbulent times, but he had never come to terms with the loss.

“I realized that anger wasn’t as random as I thought,” Smith says. “I was triggered during holidays and milestones, because I was angry that he wasn’t there anymore, like, ‘Dude, you should have been there.'”

Credit: Joshua McCarty

Credit: Joshua McCarty

Smith, a real estate broker and pastor based in Atlanta, challenged himself to share his feelings with those close to him, especially other black men in his community.

The more he expressed himself, the easier it became, and he eventually enrolled in therapy. He found that his newfound vulnerability encouraged others to talk about their problems.

“As they started doing it, I started to recognize the value of having a space to process things. And don’t just treat them, but have a good time and also enjoy the people around you,” says Smith, a husband and father of two.

He turned his casual conversations into Kill Pride Club, a community dedicated to creating safe spaces for black men to discuss their mental health.

“I feel like your ego is what gets in the way quite often,” Smith says. “If you don’t kill pride, it will end up costing you.”

Every quarter, the group meets at different locations around Atlanta to talk about what they usually think over a good meal. A smaller team also meets several times a month to record a podcast and YouTube videos named after the group.

From fatherhood and marriage to harbored resentment and isolation, the men discuss issues they usually keep to themselves.

Credit: Joshua McCarty

Credit: Joshua McCarty

It is not uncommon for black men to remain silent about their problems. Black men are less likely than white men to report daily feelings of anxiety or depression, according to a 2015 study by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. They are also half as likely as their white peers to seek advice.

“How many black men have ever opened up to someone? Did we have permission to do this? We are taught to be tough and let go. You have to be strong,” says Alduan Tartt, a faith-based psychologist in metro Atlanta.

“Many men wonder how they are supposed to confide their emotions to a complete stranger in a medical setting. This is a big step forward,” Tartt added.

Toxic masculinity is one of many factors that deter black men from seeking healthy outlets, researchers say. A long history of racial discrimination, prejudice and distrust of health care providers also plays a role.

Community settings, including churches, retreats, exercise groups and clubs like Smith’s, can be entry points. Studies have shown that black men are more likely to rely on informal help to improve their mental health. Smith said Kill Pride Club members are encouraged to try individual therapy.

The Kill Pride Club is not the first of its kind in Atlanta. Other groups that work to redefine manhood and healing.

“It’s important to create a bridge experience for men to bond, to connect (and) to see a safe space, but also to see other men opening up,” said Tartt, who hosted many support rallies for men. “Groups like (Kill Pride Club) are actually going to become the norm, and I wouldn’t be surprised if mental health funds were willing to do that intentionally as a treatment.”

Since the club launched last July, more than 50 men, aged 16 to 65, have joined. Some actively participate in conversations, while others just listen.

Credit: Joshua McCarty

Credit: Joshua McCarty

Gabriel Wright, a member since the first meeting, shared personal stories about the impact of stress and anxiety on his life. He had dealt with panic attacks during law school until he sought professional help. The 38-year-old Charlotte-based attorney admitted that being vulnerable isn’t easy but it’s worth it.

“It was really refreshing to be able to just talk and not have to worry about people clowning you, like, ‘Dude, no one wants to hear that.’ Dude up,” says Wright, a husband and father of three. “Either people are empathetic or they can help you reframe your perspective.”

For Patrick Eugène, 39, painting was one of his only outlets. The Atlanta-based artist didn’t know what to expect when he first met a few months ago.

“I was surprised at how vulnerable everyone could be,” says Eugene, a husband and father of three with a fourth child on the way. “That attracted me to the group. I decided to keep coming and bring my friends. It was transformative. It’s something I didn’t realize I was missing.

The mission of the Kill Pride Club is not exclusively reserved for its members. Smith also hopes to create Kill Pride Clubs in cities across the country, including middle and high schools. He wrote a 52-week program designed to help tweens and teens address topics like finance, personal identity and empathy.

“It’s everything I wish someone had said to me when I was a teenager,” Smith says. “This is what you need to be the best version of yourself.”

Credit: Joshua McCarty

Credit: Joshua McCarty

Smith says the stories about the club’s impact have been overwhelming.

“We believe that what we are creating is not just for men,” says Smith, “because the benefits extend far beyond the individuals who are part of the club. And that’s the part that excites me.