July marks National Minority Mental Health Month, a time to acknowledge and address the unique mental health challenges faced by communities of color. While much of the conversation rightly focuses on access to therapy and overcoming stigmas related to seeking help, one critical area that is often overlooked is the emotional toll of serious illness — especially cancer. For many patients of color, the cancer journey is not just a medical crisis; it’s a mental health emergency shaped by longstanding inequities, medical mistrust, and unequal access to care.
Supportive cancer care can be a powerful tool for both psychological and physical healing. Supportive care helps patients and caregivers address the unique and multifaceted challenges that come with a life-altering diagnosis, from emotional distress to financial stressors. It includes services like pain and symptom management, counseling, and help with decision-making. Yet too often, patients of color are left out of these services or encounter barriers that delay or deny their access. As we reflect on mental health this month, we must also confront how cancer care systems can either deepen trauma or become a source of healing.
As a Black woman who is supporting a national coalition on supportive care and a lifelong health advocate who founded a philanthropic foundation, each of us has seen how communities of color are expected to carry the weight of illness with quiet strength. Black patients are often praised for being resilient, but resilience shouldn’t mean suffering in silence or without support. The emotional toll of cancer doesn’t end at the diagnosis. It extends into the long waiting rooms, the overwhelming paperwork, and the sense that you’re navigating it all alone.
For example, in a 2024 study, Black cancer survivors described how racism shaped their care in ways that left lasting psychological scars. One patient in the study recalled being ignored in a waiting room while white patients were seen first. Another recounted how an emergency room doctor “did not give credence to what I was telling her, she did not listen and take me seriously. [I…] had all the classic symptoms of colorectal cancer and she ignored them all.” These aren’t isolated incidents. They’re part of a broader pattern that erodes trust and discourages Black patients – and those from other racial communities – from seeking the very care that could ease their suffering.
Supportive cancer care, on the other hand, can be a lifeline, offering patients and their caregivers relief from pain, anxiety, and fear. As one patient in another study shared, “I had a meltdown [and] I finally emailed my oncologist and I said I don’t know what I need. But I need something and it’s not in my head … And she immediately referred me to somebody and I started talking to someone on the phone.” But as the word “finally” in this patient’s testimony shows, too often supportive care comes late in treatment or not at all for patients of color.
To begin addressing these inequities, we must expand access to supportive cancer care in every community — especially those historically underserved. We need to invest in culturally responsive and racially equitable care teams who understand and reflect the communities they serve. We must integrate supportive services early in the cancer journey, not as an afterthought, but as a standard part of treatment from day one. And we must ensure that every patient — regardless of their background or zip code — has access to the emotional, physical, and practical support they need to navigate cancer with dignity. Policymakers, health systems, and insurers all have a role to play in making this care the standard, not the exception.
But change doesn’t only come from the top. If you or someone you love is facing cancer, ask your doctor about supportive care. It’s not just for end-of-life — it’s for anyone who wants to live better while facing a serious illness. And if you’re a provider, advocate, or policymaker, ask yourself: Are we doing enough to make this care available early, equitably, and compassionately — especially to communities that have long been excluded?
This National Minority Mental Health Month, let’s take action:
- Patients and families: Ask about supportive care early. You don’t have to wait until things get worse to get help.
- Health systems and clinicians: Make culturally responsive supportive care a standard, not a privilege.
- Policymakers and insurers: Fund it, integrate it, and hold systems accountable for equitable access.
- All of us: Speak up, share stories, and push for care that heals the whole person — not just the disease.
Healing the body means caring for the mind — and every patient and caregiver deserves both.