Thoughts on working with Black clients as a white therapists

Seriously, enough with suggesting breathwork to our Black clients.

I have enough therapeutic experience to say with some confidence that the basic “self-care” or regulation tips are not what 99% of my Black clients are looking for when they come to therapy.

I’ve thought a lot about what it means to be a white therapist working with Black clients, especially Black women or gender non-conforming folks. I’ve thought a lot about how best to articulate this without evading my own responsibility.

There are a few things I do not intend in writing this article: I don’t want to be playing saviour, and I don’t want to be speaking on behalf of Black folks. What I do want is to speak to white people (specifically white therapists) because I think it’s something that needs to be said, and something that (based on what I regularly see online) a lot of us need a reminder about.

To dig into it… I don’t mean to suggest that self-care is useless. But when breathwork is your response to hearing about your clients’ experiences with systemic racism, harm, and violence, then I’m here to tell you that it’s time to step up.

We need to stop pathologizing survival. Anger, anxiety, shutdowns, and exhaustion are all completely reasonable reactions to ongoing harm. Our goal shouldn’t be to make our clients accept or feel better about these ways they are being harmed. There are forms of exhaustion that will not be “fixed” by an evening of meditation and baths or by getting a good night’s sleep. Being told to stay calm in the face of such harm will add to this exhaustion, not remedy it.

We know that one of the strongest predictors of positive therapeutic outcomes is the therapeutic relationship itself; clients need to feel safe with us before anything much else can happen. When we minimize or individualize experiences of racism, we directly undermine that safety.

What we as white therapists can do to facilitate healing is to not slide past that harm with self-care exercises but to name it. Name the racism; name the systemic issues and systemic oppression; believe our clients when they tell us about it. Inform ourselves on decades and decades of systemic harm, and the patterns that keep on repeating, the responsibility for which is repeatedly laid upon those harmed the most.

We need to educate ourselves on redlining and housing discrimination, on unequal school funding, on hiring discrimination, on healthcare bias and mortality rates, on police brutality. These things are not past-tense, and if we (white therapists) are uninformed, there is a higher risk of us addressing them by suggesting something like breathwork to our Black clients.

We need to grow past seeing Black peoples’ lived experiences as a threat to our “goodness,” which, yes, happens even in the therapy space. Minimizing the vast systems at play, individualizing the problem by suggesting it’s something someone should be able to breathe themselves out of are just ways of skirting responsibility and of ignoring privilege. Because if we can pathologize anger, exhaustion, anxiety, etc., and pretend that these things are personal problems to be solved, we can maintain the illusion that we are not complicit in these very systems.

This is what I believe makes a difference and helps clients. People do better when they can vocalize, name, and speak out about power and systemic abuse in a space in which they feel safe. And this is how we, as white therapists, can be useful.

Our role isn’t to convince someone that unbearable circumstances are bearable. It’s not to help clients accommodate themselves to injustice, or to soothe away every normal and rational response to oppression. Sometimes our role is just to witness, to believe, to name what is happening, to make space for the truth of it, and to address it in ourselves and to confront our privilege. Before we reach for regulation strategies, we need to be willing to sit with that reality.

This article isn’t comprehensive. It’s not advanced work. It’s the beginning, and it’s the bare minimum. As white therapists, we have a responsibility to mitigate harm rather than perpetuate it, and that starts with recognizing the systems our clients are navigating and refusing to treat those realities as individual pathology.

Black clients deserve to heal and be supported without spending their time, energy, and money in therapeutic relationships that don’t feel safe. If you are looking for a therapist and feel that a Black therapist would be a better fit for you, you deserve access to that. If finding one has been difficult, I’m happy to help connect people with appropriate resources and referrals.

To Black therapists: I would love to continue building relationships, expanding my referral network, and learning from your work. I’m always open to feedback (while recognizing that no one is obligated to provide that labour).

For white therapists reading this: this is your reminder to keep learning. Read widely, listen carefully, and challenge your assumptions. Authors like Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha have written extensively about care, community, and survival in ways that continue to shape my own thinking (but I’ve made a longer reading list that will be attached below).

This work isn’t about proving that we’re “good” people. It’s about providing spaces where our clients feel safe and heard, while ensuring that they don’t bear the cost of our discomfort or our ignorance.

Further Reading: Foundational Books on Racism and Racial Trauma

My Grandmother’s Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies by Resmaa Menakem, MSW: A seminal text exploring the somatic and generational impact of racism. Menakem, an LCSW, argues that racial trauma is stored in the body and provides a framework for healing that is essential for therapists to understand.

Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome: America’s Legacy of Pain by Joy DeGruy, PhD: This book explains the psychological and emotional wounds passed down from chattel slavery and systemic racism. It provides context for behaviours and responses in Black clients that may otherwise be misinterpreted through a non-racial lens.

The Unapologetic Guide to Black Mental Health by Rheeda Walker, PhD: An accessible guide that helps clinicians understand the unique barriers Black people face in accessing mental health care. It offers strategies for navigating an unequal system and provides tools for emotional wellness tailored to the Black experience.

Healing Racial Trauma: The Road to Resilience by Sheila Wise Rowe: Rowe combines personal narrative with clinical insights to help readers understand the roots of racial trauma. Note that many of her healing strategies are centred around Christianity, which may require adaptation for non-religious clients.

Specialized Topics: Black Women and Families

Black Women’s Mental Health: Balancing Strength and Vulnerability, edited by Stephanie Y. Evans, PhD: An anthology featuring contributors from psychology and health care that explores the specific challenges Black women face in attaining well-being. It is useful for therapists seeking to move beyond stereotypes of resilience.

Soothe Your Nerves: The Black Woman’s Guide to Understanding and Overcoming Anxiety, Panic, and Fear by Angela Neal-Barnett, PhD: This text unpacks how anxiety is experienced and expressed in the Black community, offering practical advice for clinicians to help clients work through these specific manifestations.

Black Families in Therapy: Understanding the African American Experience by Nancy Boyd-Franklin, PhD: A classic resource that uses case studies to unpack sociological structures affecting Black families. It helps therapists approach family dynamics with empathy and sensitivity to cultural contexts.

A Broader Context on Race and Privilege

How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi: While not a clinical text, this is considered a must-read for therapists pursuing anti-racism. It challenges readers to reconsider their beliefs and engage in the inner work necessary to become effective allies in therapy.

Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria? by Beverly Daniel Tatum: This updated classic teaches the importance of conversations about race and helps clinicians facilitate difficult dialogues regarding racial identity and development.

These books are just the start. They can provide a basis for cultural humility and anti-racist practice, encouraging therapists to center Black voices and experiences in their clinical work.

White therapists: What have you found most helpful in your anti-racist journey?

Black Therapists: Sound off in the comments! Feel free to use this space to self-promote!

If there’s one Black person who finds a therapist from this comment section, I consider that a win.

Black Clients: What brings you to a white therapist as opposed to a Black therapist, and how can white therapists do better?

White Clients: This article is not for you, but if you have made it this far, I hope you have learned something new.