Every June, we wear orange. We hold vigils. We say names. We grieve. Gun Violence Awareness Month is a necessary ritual — a collective pause to honor lives stolen and communities shattered. But this year, I want us to do something more than pause. I want us to look deeper at the root of what we're mourning — and ask ourselves what it would mean to truly intervene before another trigger is pulled.

Because here is what I know from more than a decade of working alongside young men of color in Brooklyn and across New York City: unaddressed pain is one of the most predictable pathways to violence. Not badness. Not a weakness. Pain. Grief that was never named. Shame that was never processed. Trauma that was never tended to. When we fail to provide our communities — especially our men — with consistent, culturally affirming spaces to heal, we should not be surprised when that pain turns outward.

THE SUMMER HEAT ISN'T THE PROBLEM

Men are not emotionally void they are emotionally avoidant. And avoidance is a strategy. Many men were raised to be tough, not weak, in order to survive in what was perceived as a chaotic world. Emotion was stigmatized with shame and often characterized as feminine. Thus, masculinity became positioned as the opposite of emotion.

"Turning 40 got me thinking about all the lessons I've learned over the years things I wish someone had told me in my 20s and 30s." By Max Maxwell

As 2026 begins, healing requires more than resolutions it demands honesty. For men of color, stress, anxiety, and burnout often go unspoken. This piece explores how true wellness spans emotional, physical, financial, spiritual, and environmental dimensions, challenging old patterns and inviting a deeper commitment to healing. Moving beyond being “good,” it asks: what does it really mean to be well?

The bloc's first group therapy session was a cypher. The earliest cries for help were 16 bars.

This September is more than awareness. It is a call to action. Let’s move beyond the easy refuge of “I’m good.” Let’s take a risk at being vulnerable, being authentic, and connected. Let’s be well for ourselves, for each other, and for the brothers who didn’t get the chance. From Today Forward, Be Well.

“It wasn’t some sudden collapse. It was slow, gradual, like a leaf drifting quietly to the ground. For the longest time, I thought I had to be okay. Strength wasn’t optional—it was expected.” This article from a personal reflection explores the subtle ways depression can take hold in men, often rooted in societal expectations and the suppression of vulnerability.