Anti-Black Racism and Historical Trauma: Pushing the Positive Youth Development Paradigm

Anti-Black Racism, Culture, and Positive Youth Development

In the dominant literature on positive youth development, racism has not been explicitly presented as an environmental risk factor (Lerner et al., 2000). Although environmental factors such as social injustice, poverty, lack of services, missing opportunities, and abuse are referenced, racism is not mentioned (Cheon, 2008; Park, 2004). In fact, the word racism did not appear once in any of the seminal conceptual articles used to define and articulate PYD, EB, or CPYD (Case et al., 2017; Larson, 2000; Lerner et al., 2000; Travis & Leech, 2014). It is essential that EB and CPYD explicitly incorporate an understanding of racism because of its pervasive nature, interpersonally, institutionally, and culturally, which influences the well-being of Black youth (Jones, 1972).

Racism “results from transformation of race prejudice and/or ethnocentrism, through the exercise of power against a racial group defined as inferior by individuals and institutions with the intentional or unintentional support of the entire culture” (Jones, 1972, p. 117). For youth, this can happen on multiple levels. At the interpersonal level, racism can be expressed as violent, bigoted, overt actions; “polite” aversion; and racial micro-aggressions (Jones, 1972; Pierce et al., 1977). Institutionally, racism is embedded in policies, practices, and priorities that reinforce unearned benefits for Whites at the detriment of minoritized groups, correlated with a reduction of access to necessary resources and opportunities (Jones, 1972). For example, in schools, Black youth can be impacted by interpersonal and institutional racism in interactions with peers and through microaggressions by staff and teachers. Additionally, racism at both the interpersonal and institutional levels can be seen in the biased use of punitive disciplinary approaches such as zero tolerance behavior policies and school pushout, which disproportionately exclude students of color from class or from school entirely (Shedd, 2015). Institutional racism is also concretely visible in the predominantly White leadership of institutions, social systems, branches of government, and corporations responsible for the privatization and exploitation of resources (Alexander, 2012; Jones, 1972).

Lastly, at the cultural level, racism maintains white supremacy through socialization in distorted perceptions (Jones, 1972). For example, cultural racism can occur as diminishing the historical contributions of minoritized groups; dismissing, belittling, or co-opting cultural expressions; and unfavorably comparing ethnic and racial groups to reduce the worth and value of minoritized groups (Jones, 1972). Cultural racism is the combination of ethnocentrism and institutional power that serves to limit the life chances of Black youth (Jones, 1972). According to Laybourn and Pine (2020), The Council for Democratizing Education defines anti-Black racism as being a two-part formation that attempts to reduce Blackness of value, while systematically obstructing the progress of Black people. In the lens of anti-Black racism, Black cultural expressions are exploited, misinterpreted, or labeled as base, primitive, or pathological (Asante, 1998; Jones, 1972). This dimension of anti-Black racism aims to render cultural assets, strengths, and wisdom as illegitimate and inaccessible (Richards, 1994). The sociopolitical and economic structure of anti-Black racism is differentiated by other targeted, intersecting identities such as gender, citizenship status, and sexual orientation (Crenshaw, 1991).

Racism increases psychological distress and impacts physiological functioning (Bryant-Davis & Ocampo, 2005; Burke Harris et al., 2017). Racial microaggressions, defined as “subtle, stunning, often automatic, and nonverbal exchanges which are ‘put downs’ of Blacks, often innocuous” have a negative impact on the psychology and daily functioning of Black people (Pierce et al., 1977, p. 65; Sue, 2009). New models measuring adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) now also incorporate exposure to racism as a factor impacting adult onset of disease (Bassett & Galea, 2020; Burke Harris et al., 2017). According to Bernard et al. (2020), assessments of ACEs among Black youth need to identify both cultural assets and potentially traumatic experiences such as racism to be comprehensive.

Racism has been linked to severe health and well-being disparities among youth, including higher morbidity and mortality rates experienced by Black people (Alexander, 2012; Brown, 2003; Krieger et al., 2017). Youth experience racism in many forms, such as service deserts, subpar individual services, misdiagnosis and over-diagnosis, exploitation, and limited evidence-based practices (Brown, 2003; Carr Copeland, 2005). Examples of racism in education include (a) under-resourced schools, (b) teacher bias, (c) limited curricular offerings with lack of representation, (d) discriminatory disciplinary practices, and (e) disproportionate school closings (Boutte & Bryan, 2019; Shedd, 2015; Wun, 2016). Racism manifests in the justice system, including (a) racial profiling; (b) disproportionate use of force; (c) under-representation of legal counsel; (d) disproportionate sentencing, including plea deals, juvenile offenders charged as adults; (e) abuse of people who are incarcerated; (f) bias in parole and probation; and (g) inadequate after-incarceration supports (Alexander, 2012; Cohen & Luttig, 2020; Wacquant, 2002).

Anti-Black racism in America is a persistent attempt to politically and socially dehumanize an entire population of people as a rationale for exploitation, beginning at enslavement (Richards, 1994). Anti-Black racism was, and continues to be, a historical attempt to annihilate Black personhood (Williams, 1987). The “melting pot” strategy for Blacks at the mass group-level in America began with enslavement—not for the sake of unifying a country into one people, as the term has come to mean—but for the antithesis, permanent exclusion (Richards, 1994; Williams, 1987). One antidote to the attempted dehumanization embedded in anti-Blackness is to emphasize and affirm culture, because by nature culture emphasizes personhood (Richards, 1994).

Culture is antithetical to violent racist epithets and the stereotypical reductionism of anti-Black racism. Culture provides dimension, recognizes belonging, serves as a keeper of traditions and customs, connects one’s worldview and ethos to land and a people, and validates one’s generational existence (Richards, 1994; Williams, 1987). Conversely, incorporating culture into PYD without addressing anti-Blackness decontextualizes why a cultural focus is necessary for survival. It’s akin to a youth program promoting Black History in February without acknowledging the bigger picture of attempted erasure that necessitates this assertion of existence and contribution in the first place.

Culturally-centered programing that seeks to affirm African and African American cultural norms, identity, history, contemporary reality, or provide rites of passage programing shifts the discourse within PYD (Gaylord-Harden et al., 2017; Grills et al., 2016; Loyd & Williams, 2017; Neblett et al., 2012). Grills et al. (2016) completed a study with over 1,000 Black youth participating in a national afterschool program which demonstrated promising results. Their study found that a strong sense of cultural orientation predicted positive youth development outcomes such as future orientation, a strengthened identity, and increased belief in youth civic engagement (Grills et al., 2016). In the original conceptualization of PYD, culture was not considered one of the 5Cs (Lerner et al., 2000). Grills et al. (2016) critiqued ahistorical models of PYD that did not contextualize the racism that Black youth encountered, rendering it a violently unaccounted for social factor impacting their well-being. They asserted that marginalizing the impact of racism upon Black youth can be detrimental to their development and well-being (Grills et al., 2016; Loyd & Williams, 2017).

Culturally-grounded approaches to PYD advanced this position by centering cultural identity and social action, while addressing typical developmental challenges with cultural remedies (Gaylord-Harden et al., 2017; Grills et al., 2016; Loyd & Williams, 2017; Tyler et al., 2020). The field of PYD is beginning to propose alternative frameworks and interventions that support unique identities based on shared history and community (Loyd & Williams, 2017; Tyler et al., 2020). In one review exploring the literature associated with boys of color (BOC) and PYD, several studies suggested positive implications for PYD interventions with BOCs, but few specifically addressed culture as a mediating factor associated with development (Gaylord-Harden et al., 2017). One promising study noted the salience of ethnic identity associated with African American and Latino adolescent males, offering implications that programing associated with ethnic identity minimized the likelihood of negative mental health symptoms and countered the negative effects of discrimination (Gaylord-Harden et al., 2017).

In summary, while an extensive literature base suggests the negative impact of racism psychologically and physiologically upon health, and notwithstanding the social, economic, and political impact of racial discrimination, it still has not been addressed widescale in PYD practice (Loyd & Williams, 2017). PYD scholars with an Afrocentric or culturally-oriented perspective contend that the PYD field would be remiss to not address anti-Black racism (Grills et al., 2016). Notions of individual accountability and efficacy—without full acknowledgment of the impact of systemic violence and true contextual barriers—reinforce anti-Black racist ideas that blame Black people for the disparities experienced. In other words, African Americans, and other ethnic groups of the Black diaspora, deserve models of PYD that move away from individualized labels such as “vulnerable” and “at-risk.” By confronting contemporary and historical patterns of racialized violence and recognizing the context of collective cultural strength, PYD programing can support Black youth to heal from historical trauma and anti-Black racism (Ginwright, 2018).

Historical Trauma and Positive Youth Development

The historical trauma (HT) framework elucidates additional dimensions for PYD to incorporate in order to more fully address the needs of African Americans and other racial and ethnic groups that have experienced racial subjugation and oppression. According to the Historical Trauma framework, the harm from contemporary injustices compounds the pain of an intergenerational trauma response (Brave Heart, 1998; DeGruy-Leary, 2005; Walls & Whitbeck, 2012). Historical traumas have been defined as a soul-wound, cumulative trauma, unresolved grief, and compounded losses that are experienced at the mass group-level, such as a racial and ethnic group, when subjugated (Brave Heart, 1998). Dr. Brave Heart (1998), a Lakota social worker, originated this framework to create a paradigm shift in how disparities of health are assessed and addressed among Indigenous people.

The historical trauma framework, which began with understanding the impact of mass group-level oppression and subjugation among the Lakota, has also been used among multiple racial and ethnic groups, including African Americans (Ortega-Williams et al., 2019; Williams-Washington, 2010). Enslavement, racialized terrorism such as lynching, and legally-sanctioned racial segregation such as Jim Crow laws are historical traumas that Black people have experienced in The United States (Mullane, 1993; Williams, 1987). Historically, Black youth have been the target of White supremacist mob attacks: In 1955, Emmet Till, a 14-year old boy, was lynched and brutally disfigured for allegedly whistling at a White woman in Mississippi and 6-year old Ruby Bridges was harassed as the first Black child to integrate the Louisiana school systems (Mullane, 1993). Black youth at the forefront of the thrust for civil and human rights in The United States have faced persecution, surveillance, and murder (Franklin, 2016). The intergenerational emotional, physical and spiritual effects of historical trauma are compounded by persistent interlocking forms of contemporary racism that Black youth encounter, such as racially-biased policing and mass incarceration at disproportionate rates (Alexander, 2012; DeGruy-Leary, 2005; Richards, 1994; Tolliver et al., 2016; Williams, 1987).

In the historical trauma framework, intentional genocide, exploitation, and cultural disruption are conceptualized to harm the first generation and produce an intergenerational trauma response across generations, negatively affecting psychological, spiritual, physical, behavioral, and social well-being (Brave Heart, 1998; Brave Heart et al., 2011; Sotero, 2006; Walls & Whitbeck, 2012; Walters & Simoni, 2002). In this conceptualization, historical traumas are distal social determinants of health that compound proximal factors, such as current exposure to racism, systemic violence, and discrimination that need to be systematically addressed to support well-being (Sotero, 2006).

It has been postulated that the impact of historical trauma intergenerationally is maintained in several ways. For example, it has been proposed that four primary social pathways initiate and maintain a historical trauma response: segregation, systematic physical and psychological violence, economic destruction, and cultural dispossession (Sotero, 2006). In this public health perspective, systemic violence is linked to one’s level of psychological and physical distress (Breland-Noble, 2012; Sotero, 2006).

Colorism—the preferential treatment for those with what is associated with phenotypically Whiter or lighter features—also is considered to have a harmful role in historical trauma. It has been theorized that colorism functions as an influential mechanism both to inflict historical trauma and to maintain an intergenerational historical trauma response (Ortega-Williams et al., 2019). The colorist-historical trauma framework (Ortega-Williams et al., 2019) conceptualizes how colorism mitigates exposure to racism and therefore impacts the historical trauma response. For example, there is evidence that suggests that African Americans with what are considered deeper skin tones have a higher likelihood of psychological distress from racism, school suspension, and harsher prison sentences (Hunter, 2007; Smith-Bynum et al., 2008; Viglione et al., 2010). According to Hunter (2007), colorism as a function of racism can be expressed as intragroup discriminatory behavior, (i.e., among the same racial or ethnic group members) or intergroup (i.e., between Blacks and Whites). Colorism is an oft-ignored stressor that is relevant when healing from anti-Black racism and historical trauma (Jackson et al., 2004; Ortega-Williams et al., 2019). By addressing anti-Black racism and historical trauma, including how it manifests as intragroup colorist-historical trauma responses and intergroup racist violence, positive youth development interventions with African American youth can offer deeper and more nuanced approaches to healing and wellness (Crutchfield et al., 2020; Jackson et al., 2004).

The context of historical trauma supports a shift away from the dominant individualized approach to PYD. Expanded models of PYD such as EB and CPYD should prioritize addressing historical trauma and disrupting mass group-level racism in order to promote well-being and development. The unit for intervention would be not only the individual, but also simultaneously the meso- and macro-level—for example, by organizing for systems change or implementing community-based healing efforts (Ginwright, 2018; Ortega-Williams et al., 2018).

Transforming the Definition of “Prosocial”

The initial paradigm shift to PYD moved youth development practices away from a deficit orientation and stigmatizing labels such as “youth delinquency” (Larson, 2000; Lerner et al., 2000). However, if not contextualized, the repositioning of language from deterring “anti-social” or “delinquent” behavior to fostering “active civic engagement” and prosocial behaviors, paradoxically, can still be detrimental to groups that have experienced historical trauma and subsequent racist systemic violence. For example, a body of research about the criminal justice system has uncovered that African American youth are more likely to be targeted for arrest regardless of innocence and to receive longer sentences when controlling for crime (Alexander, 2012; Goldsmith et al., 2007). The “school to prison pipeline” disproportionately impacts the well-being and life chances of African American youth and also has been widely documented (Alexander, 2012; Fine et al., 2003; Shedd, 2015; Wacquant, 2002, 2010).

Adult allies focusing on African American youth being actively engaged civically and “prosocially” must simultaneously leverage their institutional power to decry, combat, and transform systemic racism. The social change process cannot be reduced to a positive experience that spurs individual change and adaptation in society alone, or it is not actually developmental in the context of anti-Black racism. Social injustice and anti-Black racism have severe impacts upon youth well-being, such as disproportionate rates of mortality and incarceration (Alexander, 2012). EB and CYPD must be hinged upon interrupting anti-Black racism and systemic violence, explicitly, if programs adhering to these frameworks intend to support the development of African American youth in their lived realities.

Expanding Civic Engagement in the Context of Historical Trauma

In the EB and CPYD models, socially acceptable mechanisms of civic engagement, such as advocacy and voting, are promoted (Case et al., 2017; Larson, 2000; Lerner et al., 2000; Travis & Leech, 2014). Promoting youth engagement using these platforms is positive in that they validate the collective political power of youth and their ability to contribute, which has value developmentally and socially. Additionally, evidence suggests that civic engagement supports individuals to feel a sense of self-efficacy which is important for behavioral health (Bandura, 1986; Watts et al., 2003). However, EB and CYPD frameworks need to include and recognize a wider range of civic engagement strategies.

Non-sanctioned, youth-led mechanisms of social action inspired by cultural “remix” and resistance to “respectability politics” are important vehicles for change. Respectability politics are defined as the policing of behavior within minoritized groups to achieve acceptance in a hostile dominant culture (Lalljee & Sailappan, 2018; Obasogie & Newman, 2016; Payne & Hamdi, 2009). Cultural remix, or remix culture, is the capacity within people to recycle and repurpose human expression to produce something new; in other words, cultural remix “thrives on the relentless combination of all things possible” from “originating sources” (Navas, 2012, p. 6).

Black youth have historically been involved in many “non-sanctioned” social actions employing cultural remix that have been impactful in shifting national and international discourses. For example, in 1968 Tommie Smith and John Carlos were 23 and 24 years old when they won the Olympics in Mexico City (Smith, 2007). They raised their fists using black gloves during the rendition of the American national anthem (Smith, 2007). In that act, Smith and Carlos used a cultural symbol—the Black power fist—to decry racism and the lack of human rights for Black people (Smith, 2007). They received much backlash for their stand, including death threats (Smith, 2007). Contemporarily, Black youth have organized unpermitted walkouts from schools and implemented neighborhood watches to monitor and interrupt police brutality. Additionally, they have halted highway traffic to protest racist non-indictments of police who murdered Black people, as well as honor Black lives. At times, they have faced harsh criticism in the media and from more long-standing groups that promote conservative approaches to social change (Franklin, 2016).

Healing from anti-Black racism and historical trauma is an example of cultural remixing—taking elements of collective mass group-level harm and building upon historical resistance from one’s cultural legacy to carve a new path forward (Franklin, 2016; Ortega-Williams, 2021). For example, Black Lives Matter organizers, often Black youth, use 21st Century tools like social media platforms to organize, remix narratives, and disrupt the status quo (Franklin, 2016). Organizations that use EB and CPYD frameworks and honor the capacity of Black youth to use cultural remixing to produce new norms and strategies can support youth in their transformation of civic engagement. The organizational response to unsanctioned action in this view would be responsive and supportive rather than restrictive, shaming, or punitive.

The historical trauma framework can be incorporated into programing within organizations using EB and CPYD frameworks to contextualize feelings of distrust, resentment, disinterest, anger, numbness or apathy toward “formal” strategies of making a difference, such as voting. In this view, these reactions would not be considered pathological or irresponsible, but logical and possibly informed by a historical trauma response stemming from racial subjugation, exploitation, and enslavement (DeGruy-Leary, 2005; Ortega-Williams et al., 2019; Schultz et al., 2016). Organizations centering healing would use a sanctuary approach, acknowledging that collective pain might require a more responsive and nuanced approach to development (Bloom, 1998). According to the historical trauma framework, experiences of a soul wound, cumulative loss and unresolved grief are culturally-specific stress responses that could occur from subjugation (Brave Heart, 1998; Walters & Simoni, 2002). Additionally, activism, commitment to social change and reclaiming one’s cultural legacies of strength and survival could also be mass group-level posttraumatic growth passed down intergenerationally (Beltrán et al., 2018; Ortega-Williams, 2021).

In a persistently hostile social context in which anti-Black racism is pervasive and reparations have not been made for historical trauma, what is considered “prosocial” must be redefined. Positive Youth Development frameworks for African American youth could include creating alternative institutions, disrupting unfair practices and policies, and conducting unsanctioned civil disobedience as prosocial best practices (Lalljee & Sailappan, 2018). Additionally, expressing “street love” at the individual, gang, or communal level (Payne & Hamdi, 2009) could be included in the continuum of what “civic engagement” has meant or will mean in the future.

Reimagining EB and CPYD could expand its relevance and utility among young people by honoring activities that they engage in outside of agency doors, which have been ignored or misinterpreted as illegitimate or inconsequential. For example, acts of “street love” could be acknowledged as integral. Acts of “street love” may include gathering informally; playing games of basketball, cards or dominoes in the park or street together; and pouring liquor/beer on the pavement and lighting candles when someone is killed (Payne & Hamdi, 2009, p. 29). Anecdotally, young people who connect in this way have reported that they form strong lifelong bonds; leaders of these informal practices are often the credible messengers community-based organizations rely upon to offer tangible guidance to other youth toward positive change (Wical et al., 2020). Youth who support each other in informal neighborhood networks, sometimes mislabeled gangs, provide community, material aid and protection to those often unreached by formal community-based organizations or those who are labeled difficult or uncooperative and pushed out (Harden, 2014).

The “street” in this way is a resource, a “site of resilience,” and a space to potentially inspire healing in moments of traumatic grief and loss (Harden, 2014; Payne & Hamdi, 2009, p. 29). For example, when Black youth were killed by vigilantes, like Trayvon Martin at 17 years old in 2012 in Florida and Ahmaud Arbery at 25 years old in Georgia in 2020, the streets were able to hold the national collective grief of Black youth in ways no singular program could (Alvarez & Buckley, 2013; Author, 2017; Fausett, 2020). Similarly, the murder of Breonna Taylor by police in Kentucky (Oppel & Taylor, 2020) and police brutality against a 9-year Black girl in Rochester, NY (Ly & Levenson, 2021) have been responded to with collective pain and organizing.

The Truth n’ Trauma Project (TNT) is an example of a robust positive youth development program that expanded the definition of “prosocial” and “civic engagement” to acknowledge historical trauma and anti-Black racism. TNT focused on supporting African American youth in an urban context who were exposed to community violence via developing restorative, trauma-informed and youth-led practices that encouraged advocacy (Harden, 2014). The intervention included culturally-informed practices, education concerning historical and structural racism and violence, and socio-political awareness to frame violence and racism as structural—not only interpersonal. Curriculum and advocacy efforts both included critical thinking to better understand the role of police violence, militarism, and education and housing policies in order to support local youth in healing and actively participating in community change (Harden, 2014; Ginwright, 2018). Efforts such as TNT illustrate the promise of expanding the definition of prosocial and grounding PYD efforts in culturally-affirmative and socio-political practices.

Lardier et al. found similar positive effects of culture in a sample of Black and Latinx youth (n = 383), which showed a significant relationship between cultural identity, sense of empowerment, and well-being. Additionally, Anderson et al. (2018) piloted a 5-week intervention with ten family dyads to support healing from racial discrimination. Preliminary findings demonstrated that parental support with transmitting cultural pride and assessing racial stressors supported a decrease in reported stress. These studies suggest that cultural identity in the context of anti-Black racism can be reparative.

In summary, by expanding EB and CYPD to incorporate anti-Black racism and historical trauma, a paradigm shift is possible in the youth development field. Narrowly envisioned civic engagement and prosocial behavior among Black youth can be re-imagined. A range of youth-led social actions, including spontaneous reactions of outrage about social conditions and systemic violence or apathy, can be valued and sanctioned as legitimate, instead of “antisocial” or deviant. Without this expanded view, the continuum of healing responses of Black youth to contemporary and historical trauma, as well as persistent anti-Black racism, could be misinterpreted. Centering healing in the framework of EB and CYPD shifts the purpose of youth development work beyond fostering successful adaptation of an individual youth to fostering and amplifying both individual and collective wellness (Jennings et al., (2006). Wellness encompasses collective and individual hope, strength, and capacity to transform the future into one where there is less systemic harm—a future all youth deserve (Ginwright, 2015). For African American youth specifically, EB and CYPD can be re-envisioned as more than models that aim to edify youth, but instead as integral parts of the movement to create a society in which all Black lives matter.