The Cutting Edge of Mental Healthcare
A fantastic initiative to support black men’s mental health.

Lorenzo Lewis is a genius.
Founder of the Confess Project, a movement to support the mental health of black boys and men, he has been working with barbers in over 40 US cities to train them to actively listen, affirm and support their clients while having their haircut.
Wait…what? A barber providing an ear at the same time as trimming a beard or snipping the locks?
Yup! What a novel and brilliant idea.
The background story
Last week I was feeling blah, and instead of writing, I took to my TV apps and watched documentaries. The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation — CBC — has a Gem App that genuinely lives up to its name.
Mysteries of Mental Illness is a four-part series that explores the horrible history behind the care for people who have a mental illness. From brutal, torturous approaches involving asylums and solitary confinement, the documentary sheds some light on initiatives — and frustrations — of managing this prolific illness in the past and now in the 21st century.
Unfortunately, today, mental problems are still why people are incarcerated, stigmatized, and wholly misunderstood. According to the documentary, over a million souls are in prison in the USA because of their incapacity to function in society due to their unstable mental health. One person they interviewed had been incarcerated 15 times because of his reoffending associated with having Bipolar Disorder, an illness characterized by fluctuating periods of psychosis and depression.
There’s something wrong with this scenario, yet, the current system is not geared to support offenders who commit crimes when they’re mentally ill. The documentary highlighted several issues within the penal system, but the glaring one was how they treat ex-convicts with known mental health disorders.
The day an offender leaves prison, after completing their sentence, they are sent out into the big wide world with a prescription for the medications they religiously received while incarcerated. The prison cannot temporarily provide the drugs until the person finds a pharmacy.
Guess what happens?
The newly released prisoner doesn’t fulfill the script.
Whether it’s related to finances or insight, these folk have depended on a system to provide the drugs as required. They are likely told of their importance before their caged door is unlocked, but — and I’m putting myself in their shoes writing this — the first thing I’d do if I were just released from serving time would not be to hit the nearest pharmacy!
They’re reoffending within weeks. Their symptoms return because they aren’t taking their medication, and the vicious cycle begins again.
It’s not their fault; it’s a complete failure of the system in place that starts the second they step their big toe into fresh, free air.
Does the penal system prepare prisoners for life outside bars?
I’ve no idea what goes on behind those barbed wire, 14-foot-high security fences, and steel-doored cells while a person is incarcerated. I can’t answer that question, but I have many more under its umbrella.
- Are inmates near the end of their sentences educated about the importance of their medications and given some responsibility for taking them?
- Are they told they’ve done the ‘hard work’ because it takes weeks for antipsychotic drugs to build up a therapeutic effect in the body?
- Are they aware that the hallucinations can return if they stop taking the medication? Psychosis can only be controlled, not cured.
- Are they educated about the side effects of these drugs? One of the main reasons patients with a psychotic mental illness don’t take their medications is because they’re notorious for causing sedation and erectile dysfunction.
Lorenzo Lewis was a ray of light in this rather depressing documentary.
His story starts with a profoundly disturbing statement:
MY STORY HAS two defining moments and they both happened in jail cells.
The first one starts with how I was born. My mother was incarcerated and had me in prison. After my birth, my mother was released from jail and my aunt was declared my legal guardian. I grew up with her, my uncle, and my cousins, in their home in Little Rock, Arkansas. My father was in prison at the same time as my mother. I never lived with either of my parents.
Then my father died when I was 10 years old. I was in the third grade when it happened and I remember my teacher told me to be a man and stop crying. It was degrading.
It doesn’t get better; Lewis’ experience and the associated bottle-it-all-in sentiment turned him into an angry young man. His vexation eventually exploded, and he found himself in jail at the tender age of 17.
Thankfully, this event was a turning point in his life; he used it to better himself — and, in turn, is now helping others. The Confess Project was born in 2016 to help black boys and men to navigate the emotional turmoil of experiencing common life incidents such as death, divorce, separation, personal injury, illness, or job loss and dealing with stigmatism and racism that is unfortunately rife in society
What is the Confess Project?
This initiative aims to improve self-worth, foster better familial relationships and reduce the terrible statistics of suicide and incarceration prevalent in the black community.
Knowing that men tend not to talk about their thoughts and feelings for fear of seeming weak and instead bottle and explode, Lewis was determined to change that mindset.
The Confess Project’s philosophy is simple:
Just talk.
