Hollywood Actor Eric Ways Unpacks Black Queerness & Mental Health

In honor of BIPOC Mental Health Awareness Month, we’re uplifting the stories of Black and Indigenous People of Color. DoSomething sat down with actor Eric Ways in honor of BIPOC Mental Health Awareness month to discuss his experience growing up as a young Black queer kid in North Carolina. Best known for his roles in The Best Man: Final Chapter and the 2021 Aretha Franklin bio-pic Respect, starring Jennifer Hudson, Eric looks to now help other young people through their growing pains while battling mental health struggles throughout his journey.

Eric shares how he discovered mental health resources within his community and then leaned into theater as a way to explore using creative outlets to combat stressors.

Learn more about his mental health journey and get inspired to support yourself and the BIPOC peers in your community.

When you were younger, did you feel that there were enough mental health spaces and/or resources for you to access? How do you manage your mental health now?

There weren’t enough spaces and resources. The toughest time for me mentally was while I was attending high school. I was one of a few Black students at an all-boys boarding school. I didn’t know at the time that I was dealing with so much surrounding my identity and my queerness. I think I was blinded so much by what this wonderful school had to offer that I wasn’t checking on myself mentally. I mean, maybe someone would notice my energy was different and ask if I was okay, but that definitely wasn’t enough. I think when I was younger it was still taboo to talk about your sadness. I don’t even think I knew a name or had any language to describe the mental health struggles I was going through.

I remember going to the Student Diversity Leadership Conference (SDLC) in Philadelphia with a club from my high school to meet with other students from around the country who were my age and talk about diversity, leadership, and what was important to us. This was one of the first spaces that I used as a resource to check in with myself. I got to dwell on the things I enjoyed and talk about what made me happy, without judgment.

In high school, how did your classmates support you on your mental health journey? Were there instances where you wish they were more aware?

In short, yes. Who doesn’t wish that the people around them would be more aware? I think that’s what I always try to do for my friends and peers. Stay aware. For me, when I was outed in high school I developed crippling anxiety for a while, and looking back on it, it was my friends that pulled me out. Most of them were Black. We had come together because there were only a few of us at Woodberry. At that age, all we knew was how to be empathetic and nice, but again we didn’t have the language to talk about mental health so we just did our best to spread love in the best way we knew how. Sometimes, that’s not always helpful depending on the situation and the person. For me, it was a little different because I was at an all-boys boarding school so the boys weren’t always the best talkers when it came to things going on in their lives, Of course, we talked about sports, games, and music, but not too much about our mental health. I think we just always tried to joke and make each other laugh.

We had a specific space that our Black administrators organized for students of color to come together, called The Caucus. Every month, we sat down for an hour, ate soul food and talked about our experiences as students of color on a particularly all-white campus.

We talked about things that only we could understand and laughed about. It was a breath of fresh air from all the pressure that a high school kid goes through. Other BIPOC students helped each other and lifted each other up. It was always good energy. I think some of my white classmates never really knew how hard they made our journey at Woodberry and I’m sure it's the same for other students of color at other schools around the country. It’s hard trying to fit in, at high school with other people who don’t look like you.

In BIPOC communities, there is often a history of overcoming adversity which can make talking about mental health struggles uncommon, is this what you yourself have experienced as a young kid when you moved to Durham, North Carolina?

Yes, I did experience the lack of conversations surrounding mental health specifically when it came to my community. I experienced it at home, at school, and at church. My mom was so busy working and trying to make sure my brother and I were taken care of that we never made it a priority.

I was 12 when I moved to North Carolina I really missed my hometown, my friends, and my neighborhood. It was such a pivotal time in my life, but I knew that I had to go where my mom could find work. I missed Indiana so much and I struggled to adjust to a new school, new kids, and different communities of color. I mean this was the South now and not the Midwest. Growing up in Indiana, there weren’t nearly as many Black people as there were in Durham, North Carolina. I had gone to a predominantly white school in Indiana, so when I moved and started learning in rooms with mostly Black kids my age, I learned a lot about myself. My identity, which had been so deeply tied to my time in Indiana, was so different from most of the Black kids I became friends with in Durham. It was scary at first, but I soon warmed up.

As a kid, was there a particular art form you honed in on?

This is definitely cliche, but theater saved my life. I can say that I’ve accomplished so many of my personal goals because of my discovery of theater and the performing arts. Growing up, my mother was a dancer and my dad took me and my brother to the movies when we went to visit him on the weekends. I also loved performing at the church and at school, and I knew one day I wanted to be an actor. I remember being made fun of when I first moved to North Carolina because I was the only boy on stage dancing with the girls at the talent show.