- Nyallah Noah is a 22-year-old musician from Los Angeles who graduated from the University of Southern California Thornton School of Music.
- As a Black queer genderfluid femme, Noah faced a lot of
racism , classism, and homophobia during their time at USC, a predominantly white institution. - The discrimination they faced turned into severe anxiety, so during their sophomore year of college, they started going to
therapy . - Their therapist was white and didn't understand much of the oppression she faced, which made it impossible to connect.
- "It was like she just was projecting all of her white guilt all the time," Noah told Insider.
In this As Told To, Insider's series of edited conversations about unique experiences, Canela López talks to Nyallah Noah, a Black femme musician who uses she/they pronouns. Noah decided to break up with their therapist because she didn't understand
This conversation has been edited for clarity.
Once I got into college, I knew I wanted a therapist at some point.
Going from being in a high school setting and then going into this college setting of being fully independent and dealing with real-world problems, such as racism, classism, white supremacy, sexism, and homophobia — just the intersectionality of all of those different oppressions — was extremely stressful.
My sophomore year, I had just started in the Popular Music program at the USC Thornton School of Music and I was in an a capella group at the time.
It's almost 60% white, and then everybody else makes up the remaining 40%. It was a culture shock for me — like a reverse culture shock.
At USC, all of the acapella and groups like that are notorious for not having that much diversity. When I got in, I became the second Black person, but I was the first Black femme in the acapella group. Being in a space where everybody's very white, you hope that everything's going to be okay and that there's not going to be any forms of oppression.
But I dealt with a lot of the stereotypical people grabbing at my hair because I changed my hair a lot, and not asking me for consent.
I had been conditioned about how to be around white people. Still be myself, but limit the things I'm going to say, because I know if I get too loud, it's going to be read as ghetto or something incorrect or just vulgar and negative.
In my classes, being an intelligent black femme, I dealt with people trying to silence me, people trying to correct me, or trying to invalidate my thoughts all the time. Or just taking what I'm saying, repeating it back to the class, and having everybody uplift it.
I was just dealing with this hyper-invisibility, but hyper-visibility at the same time.
I really wanted a therapist to talk about it because I wanted a second opinion and another perspective. I wasn't sure if all the things I was experiencing were as direct as I was thinking or if maybe I was making it all up or maybe it wasn't real. I was like, "Okay if I'm really as delusional as I'm worried about, this therapist will be able to affirm those thoughts and to give me that transparency."
I made an appointment, but it wasn't like I could pick any specifics on race, gender, or sexuality
I feel like it's upsetting when different community networks or institutions provide you with free services for counseling, but they don't take into consideration race or gender, or sexual identity, or class.
Those are all things that are really important when considering therapy, and I think these institutions need to take the time to add those options in.
Had they asked me what my preference was, and if I was like, "Yes, I want a Black person or a person of color," my experience would have been a lot better. There would have been more to relate to.
There was a lack of relatability with the white therapist they paired me with, and as a Black person, there are things ethically, racially, cultural-wise that you need to take into consideration.
Therapy was good at first because I had been censoring myself, which I learned to do for survival as non-white person in white spaces
When I first got to my therapist, I was just kind of talking to her about
Once I noticed what I was doing I said, "I want to bring up the fact that I sometimes feel uncomfortable about bringing up race-related issues or situations." I remember she cut me off — not in a rude way — it was very much like she was anxious about it. She said, "Yeah, because that is something that I was also worried about, but I just would love to hear your thoughts on it."
I thought, "Damn, If you have uncertainty or think that you lack qualifications to counsel a non-white person, you need to unpack that s---, because you probably shouldn't be a f------ therapist."
Even after I started to bring race up, it was hard because she couldn't provide any relevant resources
Once I started being more transparent about race, like, "This racialized thing happened" or, "I have a teacher who really doesn't want me to pass, and I'm doing all my work, but they're just being racist," she couldn't give me solutions.
It would always be a thing of her being like, "Oh, I don't know what I can tell you," or, "Oh, I wish I knew what I could tell you so that this could be better" or "Wow, that must be so difficult for you."
It was like she just was projecting all of her white guilt, all the time.
I also felt like I had to frame topics in a way where I acknowledged that things were about being Black, and then I would try to find a way to frame it in a way so she could relate. It wasn't like she asked me to do it, but I felt like I had to do it, and she didn't stop me from doing it.
It's like: "You as my therapist should see that this is uncomfortable and know that I shouldn't be trying to explain these things to you four different ways. You should just get what I'm saying the first time and just give me an answer, and we can just talk through it."
It was hard because then I felt like I had animosity towards her. Because I didn't want to share, or I'd feel selective on what I wanted to share. Sometimes I felt like she wanted me to feel bad for her, more than she wanted me to feel bad.
Around the two-month mark, we decided that we should stop seeing each other
Basically, we just talked, and it was a mutual agreement.
She felt like she didn't have the range to be my therapist. I felt as if I needed a therapist that was at least a person of color so that they could at least resonate with the issues that I was talking about and understand where I was coming from when I'm talking about these white people.
It wasn't like I was mad at her. I just got tired of it. I only had a certain amount of free hours given by USC for therapy. So I'm not going to waste them.
I had a white therapist when I first moved to New York, and she was one of the best therapists I had
I told her flat out how I was nervous about having another white therapist. She said, "I'm going to be transparent. I am a white therapist and I am a white person. And if you ever feel uncomfortable about addressing specific topics or subjects because of race, we can talk about that. And if you want to get somebody else, we can definitely do that."
But she never had me feeling weird. She felt like your white homie that you could be like, "White people are racist." And they would be like, "Yeah, you're right."
She listened to me and I liked her. But I don't really want white therapists. I would prefer somebody Black or brown. I understand that that might not always be the case, unfortunately. I hope that whenever I find a long term therapist, that my therapist is Black.
I would love a Black queer person because I feel they would really be able to understand my experiences.
They would understand what it means to feel misgendered or othered or feel discriminated against across the board. They understand the intersectionality of discrimination, racial politics, and identity politics.
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