The Professional Counselor | Volume 13, Issue 4 435 In contrast, meetings with Diondre were very combative; there was always a more solemn tone, and sometimes even an aggressive one, used with him. Team members would say about Diondre, “He’s acting like a thug,” “I think he’s in a gang. Is there a father figure in the house?” “We need to get him some mentoring,” and “You know, his mom has never attended one of the intervention meetings; she probably doesn’t care—you know these parents.” At meetings, Diondre would hear statements such as “If you don’t stop doing this, you’re gonna be in juvie” and “Diondre, you need to shape up. Life is hard, but you gotta toughen up.” Coming out of those meetings, Diondre might have thought of himself: “I’m a bad seed, inherently flawed and destined to be locked up. I can’t have a bad day. It’s always like this. I don’t learn. My mom doesn’t care about me, and people don’t believe I’m worth the trouble.” Because I was the only Black male on the team, I was assigned to “speak some sense” into him— “Have a man-to-man talk with him,” as one team member said. I recall during my first meeting with Diondre that he was slumping in the chair, and I caught his eyes—it is an image that is indelibly imprinted on my mind. Diondre sat in the chair defeated, exuding hopelessness and sadness. Looking over at me, before I could get a word out, Diondre mumbled with a sigh, “Man, you don’t even know me.” His facial expression, his dispirited disposition, and his words shocked me. Immediately, I recognized that yes, it was true: I did not know him. I did not care to know his story, his experience, or his world. I had made assumptions about him and his cannabis use, just like the others on my team. I realized I had been complicit in the system by criminalizing a young man for his cannabis use and never once finding out what was underneath it. I had never given him the benefit of redemption as I did with Johnny. Now I had learned that, yes, Diondre was redeemable, and like Johnny, he could have bad days. I experienced his life changing as I worked through my biases about him, his community, and his cannabis use, which was something to which I could not relate. Although I had taken a course in multicultural counseling and addiction, I was so steeped in my biases and “cultural superiority” that it impaired my ability to effectively work with a population different from mine. I had become complicit with the system; until my epiphany, I did not advocate for change. I share this story and this article especially for new or emerging counselors who may work in programs or institutions that serve Black youth as a reality check and way of reassessing their roles and fiduciary duties to the clients they serve. Cannabis Use and Mental Health Among Black Youth Cannabis is the most frequently used illicit substance by adolescents in the United States (Miech et al., 2017). For instance, in 2019, 37% of U.S. high school students reported past cannabis use, and 22% reported use in the past 30 days (C. M. Jones et al., 2020). Moreover, teenage cannabis use is at its highest level in 30 years, and today’s teens are more likely to use cannabis than tobacco (C. M. Jones et al., 2020). Despite this rise in teen use and the laissez-faire, pro-recreational support of cannabis use by the majority of U.S. adults (Van Green, 2022), researchers have well elucidated the dangers of cannabis use on the developing brains of teenagers and youth. Several studies have, for example, found that consistent or heavy use of cannabis is likely to have permanent effects on adolescents, including long-lasting impairment of cognition, brain structure, and brain function associated with a potentially irreversible decline in intelligence quotient (Batalla et al., 2013; Jackson et al., 2016; Szczepanski & Knight, 2014). Furthermore, long-term use of marijuana during adolescence is also associated with increased incidence and worsened course of psychotic, mood, anxiety, and substance use disorders (Levine et al., 2017). Additionally, the American Academy of Child
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy NDU5MTM1