The Jegna I Never Knew I Needed But Couldn’t Survive (or Thrive) Without

The challenges Black folx face in academia, deeply rooted in a long history of systemic racism and exclusion, create significant barriers to success. From the era of slavery, when Black people were prohibited from learning to read and write, to today’s ongoing struggles against systemic racism in academic spaces, Black scholars have had to navigate environments that marginalize our experiences and contributions. This history has bred a pervasive sense of isolation, especially for Black women, who remain underrepresented in many fields. The ivory tower often compels us to downplay our cultural backgrounds or alter our communication styles (i.e., code-switch) to fit in, while microaggressions subtly chip away at our confidence. This constant state of otherness makes it difficult to thrive and contribute our unique voices to the academic landscape. Yet, despite these obstacles, Black scholars continue to persevere, drawing strength from our cultural heritage and communal bonds. It is within these connections, and through the guidance of mentors and jegnoch (plural of jegna), that we find the support necessary to not just survive but thrive in these spaces.

Finding My Jegna

When I entered my doctoral program, I expected the usual challenges: rigorous coursework, personal growth, and perhaps the guidance of a few mentors. What I didn’t expect was to find a jegna—a term in Black psychology for a wise, courageous, and nurturing “elder” who takes on the role of protector and teacher. A jegna is someone who not only invests in your academic success but in your entire being, speaking truth to power (a phrase I learned from Dr. Chapman-Hilliard who she credits Dr. Kevin Cokley for teaching her), embodying integrity, and showing an unwavering commitment to the welfare of our people (ABPsi, 2019). Dr. Chapman-Hilliard (affectionately known as Dr. H) has become exactly that for me: the jegna I never knew I needed but couldn’t survive—or thrive—without during this journey.

From the moment our paths crossed, Dr. H’s presence in my life has been nothing short of life changing. I’ve had mentors before, but a jegna? That’s different! A jegna doesn’t just guide you academically or professionally. They see you, the fullness of who you are, and recognize your potential even when you can’t see it yourself. They challenge you to grow not just in your work but in your identity, your spirit, and your sense of purpose. That’s what Dr. H has done for me.

Rooted in Black Psychology: A Journey of Growth Beyond the Classroom

Black psychology teaches us that jegnaship is more than just mentorship—it’s about fostering a deep sense of cultural pride and belonging. In fact, the term "jegna" is favored over "mentor" in Black psychology due to the negative historical associations with the Greek figure Mentor (ABPsi, 2019). For Black students, like me, navigating predominantly White institutions, the challenges we face extend beyond coursework and research. We grapple with the subtleties of racial stress, the weight of institutional betrayal, and the pervasive undercurrents of anti-intellectualism. Jegnaship responds to this by offering us strength and encouragement rooted in our heritage, our community, and our shared experiences. In Dr. H, I found someone who understood those layers without needing explanation. Her guidance was never about telling me what to do, but about showing me how to stand firm in my identity while navigating spaces not always made for us. She modeled what it looks like to exist boldly and unapologetically, while offering me the tools to do the same.

One of the greatest gifts Dr. H has given me is the permission to be vulnerable. In academia, particularly in psychology, we often feel the pressure to have it all together, but with her, I learned that real growth comes from owning both our strengths and our struggles. She created a space where I could openly discuss my fears, insecurities, and the pressures I faced as a Black woman in psychology. In those moments, Dr. H did more than just listen—she empowered me to reframe my challenges as steppingstones toward becoming the scholar and psychologist I’m meant to be. Her influence has extended far beyond the academic space. She’s taught me how to build meaningful relationships with my peers and future colleagues, how to balance ambition with self-care, and how to lead with both compassion and conviction. In many ways, Dr. H has not only prepared me for my future career—she’s prepared me for life. Through her example, I’ve learned the importance of showing up fully, both for myself and for the communities I serve.

Thriving Through Jegnaship

As I approach the end of my doctoral journey, I realize that I’ve thrived in ways I never thought possible, and I owe much of that to the support, wisdom, and unwavering belief Dr. H has poured into me. She has been more than a mentor or advisor—she has been a jegna, embodying the roles of protector, nurturer, and cultural guide. Her presence in my life has been a constant reminder that I do not walk this path alone. I am part of a lineage of strength, intellect, and resilience, and I have the power to forge my own path forward.

Reflecting on my journey, I now understand the profound need for a jegna—someone who sees beyond our academic potential and nurtures the essence of who we are as human beings. I am incredibly grateful that I found my jegna in Dr. H. Her legacy will accompany me in every step I take, not only as a scholar and a psychologist but as someone committed to carrying forward the lessons she has so graciously shared. In every success I achieve, in every life I touch, her influence will echo, a testament to the power of jegnaship.

References:

ABPsi (2019). 51st Annual ABPsi Convention. https://abpsi.org/convention/pdf/ABPsiProgramBook2019.pdf