By Riana Elyse Anderson, PhD, LCP ·Updated May 30, 2026 < /> Getting your Trinity Audio player ready… I am typically not one for the social media drama, but babyyy, if you have a screen and working eyes, you absolutely couldn’t miss what was happening at the intersection of Black folks and mental health this month. I won’t give airtime to the cause—especially because my good sis Raquel Martin, PhD, has already done a masterclass of that on ESSENCE and social media generally—but the question of licensure, credentials, and moral ethics was hotly debated on all the platforms throughout May.
And family, May is Mental Health Awareness Month. It is a critical time for us to understand just why these issues matter, not in the abstract, but in real, practical terms.
I am a licensed clinical psychologist who has been trained at some of the world’s top institutions for over a decade. In my IG post about my credentials, most people kept their comments congratulatory. But as the message spread into less-friendly territory, I saw some tough-to-read responses. One, though, genuinely stood out:
“Who cares if someone has a license lol.”
I could share my response to this as a provider of this care, but instead, I want to dive in as a recipient of it as well.
Yes, beloved: your therapist has a therapist (sung in thetarget="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">searching for a therapist.
Here are three things that you may not know about why licensure, credentials, and moral ethics actually matter in that choice.
History. It’s only been a century since Black psychologists have been entitled to earn their PhDs, let alone get licensed to practice. I had to start here to acknowledge that Black Americans have been providing excellent care to our community for much longer than the psychology field or licensing board has allowed. And that means that the community of care that has been established—whether in beauty or barber shops, at the hands of grandma brushing your hair, or the preacher at your church—extends beyond just psychologists. And yet, when we do engage in a professional relationship with a psychologist, we have to ask whether they are licensed to do what they are doing. We wouldn’t be okay with someone behind the wheel suggesting, “Oh, I can drive, trust me,” because it puts us in harm’s way. If that person doesn’t know the rules, expectations, and limits of the road, why would we want to be on it with them? Likewise, if someone claims they can offer you stellar services but isn’t bound by any professional standards, we should ask: how may I be harmed by this “care”? History has certainly shrunk the pool of available Black psychologists who are licensed to practice, but we definitely shouldn’t discourage ourselves from wanting the highest standards for our care.
Stigma. In my research, I’ve also been able to do a deep dive into the history of therapy for Black Americans during and after enslavement. Do you know that the only care some Black people could get in the 1800s was—wait for it—to treat a desire to run away from their plantation? “Drapetomania” was a made-up condition pointing to the madness that Black people must have if they tried to escape their enslavers. Tuh. It’s easy to imagine, then, that any mental health challenge or crisis occurring well before, during, and after that time may be something we keep hidden away from others. It makes it that much more important for our care providers to have gone through rigorous training programs to ensure we are handled with care and knowledge of our cultural trauma. We want to invest our time and energy with people who have undergone intensive study and practice to provide us with the best care possible and to also reassure us that seeking care is acceptable, legitimate, and necessary for our well-being today.
Quality of care. There is a range of providers who can attend to your mental health. Whether social workers, counselors, therapists, psychiatrists, or other mental health providers, they can meet your past, current, and long-term needs. For psychologists in particular, we know that Black providers are only four percent of the pie. Compound that with fewer resources in urban or rural care spaces, and you’ve got a challenging landscape to get quality, culturally responsive care. As a client, though, this matters. If I don’t get good care, two big issues arise. 1) I won’t be well, and 2) I may not seek care again for the same or next issue. We want to ensure that our needs align with the practice we seek so we can live our best lives.
So what’s the takeaway here? Well, as a licensed psychologist and client, I want to make sure that our community is getting the best care. Care that is tailored, quality, and ethically bound. Care that will keep us going through May—a month of awareness, but action too. Seek a vetted clinician through these resources and know that I’m with you on both sides of the couch.
Riana Elyse Anderson, PhD, is a licensed clinical and community psychologist, associate professor at Columbia University’s School of Social Work, and affiliate with Harvard’s Hutchins Center for African & African American Research and FXB Center for Health and Human Rights. She is a Public Voices Fellow of The OpEd Project in Partnership with the National Black Child Development Institute.
TOPICS: health and wellness therapyThe post Therapy IRL: What Black Women Should Know Before Choosing A Therapist appeared first on Essence.
