Breaking the Cycle of our Fathers: Why Kid Cudi Saved A Generation
“And the way he roll just a rebel to the world with no place to go”
— Kid Cudi
Battling suicidal thoughts and depression, Kid Cudi courageously held off showcasing and promoting his new music to seek mental health treatment. Since Kid Cudi’s tweet, I’ve reflected on my father’s battle with depression and PTSD, and why Kid Cudi’s brave actions could save lives.
My dad was a charmer. He was the son of Jamaican immigrants and raised in Newark, New Jersey. He rarely shared childhood memories with me, but from what I knew, he loved comics, spending hours nerding out over the Avengers and Superman. Years later, he moved to Philly and fell in love with the Neo-Soul scene. Raheem DeVaughn, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott, Anthony Hamilton were constantly playing in his car and home, spending weeknights at Philly open mic nights and poetry slams. He had an infectious laugh and was a proud, self-proclaimed metro-sexual. It would take him hours to get ready, and was the first person to successfully convince me never to wear sweatpants on a flight.
But, my dad had his demons. One being that his dream of going to college never came to pass. He desperately wanted to pursue math and science and experience college life away from New Jersey. But, my grandmother couldn’t afford it. He never reconciled not graduating from college. Even as an adult, his smile would disintegrate if his own education was brought up in a conversation.
Instead, he enlisted in the Army, probably thinking this was the best way to afford an education. But after two tours in Iraq, he didn’t come back the same. By this time, my mother and father were divorced; but what once was a man that made every effort to be involved in family and friends’ lives, became a man that sank deeper and deeper into a depression hole.
Consequently, throughout my teenage years, we struggled to connect; there were months even years I didn’t hear from him. And when we did talk, it resulted in tears or anger or both. But even with these clear signs of isolation and sadness, he didn’t seek help. And myself and our family didn’t ask him to.
At 48, my dad passed away from heart complications. Just like that he left this earth. I spoke at my father’s funeral saying how he wanted to spend more time with family and loved ones, but he was just working too hard…I lied. He was suffering.
I struggle to make peace with that part of his life, and the many lives of African American men we could have saved if we reached out a little more. I don’t want to dismiss the complexities of Veterans with PTSD, or combine all Black experiences with mental health, but Kid Cudi showed us that we can’t ignore it anymore. For African American millennials and other minority communities where mental-health is taboo this is HUGE. We face countless battles, but yet have acknowledged that we must take care of ourselves in the process. Kid Cudi made that clear.
I still remember my dad as the ‘nerd with swag’, and erased the memories of him battling with this disease. But now, my generation won’t have to struggle by themselves. Kid Cudi’s actions were more than a hashtag, they were life-changing.
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