How a New Orleans barber is helping Black men talk about mental health

Barber David Rankin talks about the importance of Black men’s mental health and how barbershops create a safe space to vent and connect.

Lede New Orleans
7 min readMar 3, 2023
David Rankin, right, started cutting hair at age 17 as a way to make extra cash. He sees his barbershop as a gateway to mental health support for local Black men. (Photo by Lede New Orleans)

By De’Anna Johns

David Rankin is a barber and a community leader advocating for mental health in New Orleans. He’s passionate, funny and easy-to-talk to — essential traits in his line of work. Rankin began cutting hair at age 17 as a way to earn extra cash. Now 34, he owns a small barbershop in Central City. He’s also the creator behind Revelationary God, a lifestyle brand aimed at encouraging and educating the African American community and promoting positive change.

Rankin’s barbershop is located at the corner of South Robertson and Erato streets. Men who patronize his establishment leave with a fresh fade and a clear mind, the kind that can only be achieved by sitting in the chair of someone who cares about more than just your hair.

One Saturday morning last October, Rankin took his operation on the road to meet the Lede New Orleans team at Milne Park Recreation Center in Gentilly and provide a cut for Keith Bryant, a long-time friend and client. The two let our team listen in on their discussion about life and mental health.

Bryant relaxed into his chair and began to reminisce about his day almost as soon as Rankin got to work. They spent 45 minutes discussing topics ranging from love and relationships to their views on mental health. Rankin and Bryant talked as if no one else was in the room despite the public setting. Rankin listened closely, nodding his head in agreement while his clippers buzzed away at Bryant’s overgrown fro.

“It’s something about clippers and getting their haircut that does something to the mind,” Rankin said. “I don’t know if it’s the vibrations that massage the mind, that makes [clients] vulnerable.”

Mental health is not a topic trending consistently within the Black community. That’s why the kind of conversations Rankin has with his clients are so important.

In 2022, 46 million Americans–or about 13.4% of the U.S population–identified as Black or African American in national census data. Of that group, over 16% report living with a mental illness such as major depressive episodes or suicidal thoughts within the past year, according to a 2018 survey by the federal Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration. That translates to over 7 million Black Americans struggling with their mental health.

Racist policies that uphold major disparities in health care and economic opportunity bear the bulk of the blame for disparities in mental health care. But there is also a good amount of stigma in the Black community when it comes to talking about mental health.

Rankin set out his clippers during an October 2022 appointment with long-time friend and client, Keith Bryant. (Photo by Lede New Orleans)

A 2013 study completed by researchers at the University of Wisconsin-Madison and University of South Florida found Black participants were open to seeking mental health services, but were less likely to acknowledge psychological problems within themselves or family members. Those surveyed reported prayer and religious practice as an important tool in strengthening mental health. Black men in particular expressed concern about the stigma related to discussing and getting treatment for mental health.

Rankin said he continues to see Black men and boys in New Orleans struggling with unaddressed mental health issues. This is especially true for young men who are living in poverty and lack access (or are denied access) to mental health resources because of cost, insurance, awareness and stigma among other factors. He believes getting more Black men to engage in tough conversations is the pathway toward positive change. Barbers like him are uniquely positioned to start those kinds of conversations, he added.

“It starts by creating safe spaces where Black men can feel comfortable being vulnerable,” Rankin explained. “They don’t think people know their struggle, so talking to professional therapists is not an option for them.”

Keith Bryant, right, sits for a cut with David Rankin, who runs a barbershop in Central City. (Photo by Lede New Orleans)

There’s a good reason for that. Just 5% of the country’s psychology workforce is Black, according to the American Psychological Association. Even fewer are Black men. Rankin noted the lack of therapists who look like them and share their experience makes many Black Americans hesitant to tap into traditional therapy. (Only about 1 in 3 Black people reporting receiving care for their mental health, according to the National Alliance on Mental Illness.)

We sat down with Rankin to discuss the role Black barbers can play in supporting mental health within the Black community, acting as bridges between licensed mental health professionals and struggling individuals who may be afraid to trust them. Here is some of what he had to say.

What do you think is the biggest misunderstanding people have about Black men and their mental health?

I think the biggest misunderstanding is that Black men don’t care about their mental health, and they don’t want to be vulnerable. Black men really want to heal. The thing is, they don’t know how. Most of them are battling with what they’ve been taught. For example, [they’ve] never been taught to show emotion because that’s a sign of “weakness.” But I tell them that tears are a weakness leaving the body. So many Black men don’t understand that when they hold in their emotions, they are holding in pressure that needs to be released. Black men don’t want to be judged, they want to be treated like everybody else. They actually want to heal, be loved and love.

Do you feel comfortable relaying people to a therapist or other mental health professionals?

Yeah, I do. But my clients don’t always feel comfortable being told that. They feel comfortable talking to me because of personal relationships. I talk to people who I watched grow up, or who grew up with me, and I’ve noticed that a lot of times if they see me doing it first they’ll be more open to it. I lead by example. A lot of these guys look up to me, and the kids look up to me, [so] they will trust my judgment. They need professional help. They need therapy. But they don’t know they need it.

How do you care for yourself while caring for others?

I have two mentors. One is my old college coach, and the other is my cousin. I respect these people, so I lean on them for support. We talk on the phone or in person, and just have a session where we talk about the things going on in the world. My community calls me The Younger Brother, so everyone always makes sure I’m OK, even the people I pour into.

What can barbershops do that traditional mental health interventions cannot?

Barbershops can connect with Black men on a personal level that maybe a professional therapist cannot. When you say “professional” that automatically alerts [a person]. So, the fact that I’m a barber in the community, [Black men] see me every day. They know whatever I might tell [them] it’s not coming from a bad place. I’m not judging them or anything like that, because I’m in the same environment. Professional therapy [can feel] like, “You don’t understand my struggle, I don’t see you every day, who are you?” And that lack of knowledge of each other is going to automatically create a disconnect, because I want to open up to [a therapist]…but I don’t know [this therapist]. Barbers have this thing where people feel comfortable-like.

How can we connect more Black men in New Orleans to mental health support?

That’s a great question. We can start by creating more spaces where Black men feel safe, a space where men feel they can trust someone. Kind of like team building between Black men and whoever is trying to make the connection. I’m a barber, so one of the things I do is, once a year at the church I go down and volunteer my services. And through that I meet new parents and kids in the neighborhood. The relationship kicks off. Trying to build a relationship with Black men is not a one-sided thing. It’s a community effort.

De’Anna Johns is a Fall 2022 Community Reporting Fellow with Lede New Orleans. Johns, 25, is a storyteller based in Slidell and a student at Xavier University. An avid traveler, she recently conducted audio interviews with New Orleans residents documenting their international travel experiences.

This article is available to republish under a Creative Commons license. Read Lede New Orleans’ publishing guidelines here.

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