Student Profile: Saharra Dixon

Saharra Dixon is a Community Health Education doctoral candidate in the Department of Health Promotion and Policy under the supervision of Dr Aline Gubrium and Dr. Linnea Evans. She is currently in her third year of the program, and a working board member of the Collective for Radical Death Studies.

Q: Tell us about your experience at UMass so far.

I’ve been able to get involved in so many things that align with my interests and goals. My graduate assistantship is with the Peer Health Education program through Recwell (Recreation and Wellness). I work with undergraduate students who are interested in public health and am a resource and mentor to them. The students are awesome and my supervisor, April McNally, has been a great mentor to me. I have been able to find a community through the program which is important to me.

During the second year of my Ph.D. program, I served on the student advisory board. My role was as a student advocate for the department. I was a contact for students who wanted peer support.  I love leadership roles, and I learned so much about being an advocate not only for others but for myself. The role also allowed me to build partnerships with professors which was a rewarding experience and has helped me further my education.

Another thing I appreciate about the Department of Health Promotion and Policy is the funding for professional development. I was able to go to Austin, Texas this past summer for a conference. I appreciate that support and funding to travel and get real-world experiences. It is so helpful as a Ph.D. student.

Q: You do a lot of interesting research, especially with LGBTQIA+ folks. Can you explain more about your work?

I am a Black, queer storyteller. My research is arts-based. I am a performing artist, as well as a digital and performance storyteller. I am passionate about anti-racist and anti-colonial public health practices. I work with children and adults alike in using art as a tool for reflection, transformation, & radical healing. My research works to understand how systems and social environments (re)produce health inequities. I use my creativity through arts-based and participatory methods to promote more caring, collaborative, and community-accountable approaches to health promotion.

I’ve done a lot of work around body-focused repetitive behaviors (BFRBs). I did a digital storytelling campaign with Black women and gender non-conforming persons with BFRBs like hair pulling and skin picking. People of color, women, and queer persons have to navigate health inequity because there is a lot of shame and stigma around mental health. I’m looking at how social environments and culture impact mental health outcomes differently, and how to address this. Having my own BFRB, which I’m still navigating, I started to see that other people were telling our own stories. I invited other folks who are living with BFRBs, specifically women and gender-non-confirming folks, to tell their stories. I led them in a digital storytelling process. I had them create 2- to 5-minute-long videos explaining what it’s like living with a BFRB. I used those videos and created a composite film. I was then able to share that video with the TLC Foundation of BFRB. I’ve partnered with the foundation a few times. [Click here for a TLC Community Conversation with Saharra.]  I’ve also been able to show the video to clinicians, and other providers hoping to change the narrative around BFRBs and the fundamental causes.

Right now, I am specifically looking at collective grief and wakework that allows us to reimagine Blackness and Indigeneity as life and living memory. I want to look at ways to better support people who are grieving loss and transition. We live in a society that does not openly talk about death or dying. There’s a lot of stigma around grief. For Black, Indigenous, and queer folks, we are often in a constant state of grief. We are grieving our own lives because statistics tell us we are going to die sooner than our cis, white counterparts. We don’t get to live our lives and think about what life means to us because we are so focused on survival and beating the statistics. We don't get to dream.

I am beginning to look at Black and Indigenous folks who live with chronic illness and/or mental health conditions. I want to study how grief impacts their ability to function in different environments. For example, I’m interested in working with Black women with BFRBs & Black family caregivers, exploring how the Superwoman Schema and Black grief impact the onset, symptomatology, and intensity of mental health disorders. Similarly, I want to find and share their stories to identify what supports people need in grief and create spaces where they can dream of the life they want to live, while honoring those who came before them.      

Q: How have UMass and SPHHS supported you and your research?

One thing I love about my program in SPHHS is the option for a minor, and it can be in any course university-wide, not just public health-related. I’ve taken a lot of classes through the College of Education and the W.E.B. Du Bois Department of Afro-American Studies. I took classes like arts-based research and the Black Arts Movement. Those classes were filled with people who were challenging academia. It showed me that I don’t have to stick to the status quo. I was able to see that other academics think very similarly to me. Connecting with people in other departments and other schools has been life changing.

My advisors, Dr. Aline Gubrium and Dr. Linnea Evans, have been very accepting of me and how I show up as a student and researcher. You don’t see a lot of arts-based researchers in schools of public health. Being a Black, queer, confident woman interested in this kind of work, it can feel alienating. However, my advisors are very affirming. They helped me navigate my own grief earlier in my program. Dr. Gubrium brought me on and made space for me as an arts-based researcher and artist. Both Dr. Gubrium and Dr. Evans have connected me with resources and people who are doing similar work. I never feel alone.

My cohort has been very supportive of me as well. We bounce ideas off of each other and share perspectives. We care for each other, and we’ve created a little community. It’s been great to have that, especially moving from the greater Philadelphia area into a new state.

Q: Reflecting on LGBTQIA+ History Month, what does it mean to you?

It has given me a minute to sit and reflect on how far we’ve truly come. I’ve been doing a lot more reading and inner work around my own identity. For me, what we saw in the past was survival. We still have a long way to go, but we are also starting to see queer folks living. Queer folks are dreaming bigger and bolder than ever before. That is something I strive for in my own life. I am living authentically in my queerness, my Blackness, and my womanness. I won’t let anyone make me feel bad for living in my truth, whatever that might be. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve been embracing my queerness as a critical part of my life and identity. I can be more vocal about it because of Black queer women and men before me like June Jordan, Audre Lorde, bell hooks, and Toni Cade Bambara who have done a lot of great, transformative, seminal work to help us not only get free but dream of freedom in more colorful and robust ways.