The Emotional Toll on Mental Health Advocates

Faith Greaves is a dedicated community leader and advocate working on the frontlines of mental health, programs, housing, and food security. Known for her hands-on approach, she has spent years providing direct assistance to individuals in crisis, ensuring they have access to stable housing, food, programs and mental health resources. 

As the founder of Mozia Women’s Network Society, Faith leads programs that empower African, Caribbean, and Canadian women, children, youth, seniors, and families through resilience-building, life skills development, culture and arts and economic opportunities. She plays a key role in supporting over 600 families weekly through Mozia food bank, helping address food insecurity in her community. 

Her advocacy extends to multiple leadership roles. She serves on the advisory committee for the Little Jamaica Land Trust, is the vice chair of Harriet Tubman Community Organization, and is a member of the African Canadian Collective, which focus on advocating for the rights of refugees and asylum seekers. She is also a collaborating partner with the Canada Accessibility Network (CAN), working to advance the inclusion of persons with disabilities through multidisciplinary approaches. Most recently, she was appointed president of the Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA), a historic organization founded by Marcus Mosiah Garvey to promote self-reliance and economic empowerment. Through her leadership and unwavering commitment to community well-being, Faith continues to be a driving force for systemic change and social justice.

For mental health advocates, the emotional toll of supporting others can often be underestimated. Faith Greaves, a dedicated community leader and advocate, has firsthand experience in navigating the complexities of mental health advocacy, particularly within the Black communities. Through her work, Faith has witnessed the challenges of balancing her own well-being while providing support to those in need. In this conversation, Faith opens up about the emotional strain that comes with being on the frontlines, how she maintains her resilience, and the importance of self-care for those who dedicate their lives to helping others. Her insights highlight the often-overlooked aspect of this work and the critical need for advocates to care for themselves as they care for others. 

Your work puts you on the frontlines of community care. What first drew you to this work, and what keeps you in it?

Faith Greaves: I started my career in the corporate world, working with organizations like Nortel, GlaxoSmithKline, and Immigration Canada. But when I relocated to Calgary in 2009, I saw firsthand the gaps in our community. It was difficult for newcomers to integrate, and there was little Black representation in decision-making spaces. Access to Black history was limited, often locked away in museums or academic institutions, making it hard for the community to engage with its own past. 

By 2013, I had brought a grassroots initiative to Calgary under Mozia Shows & Play. Mozia Women’s Network Society, started as a grassroot in 2015, which supported community initiatives such as Black history, Marcus Garvey Youth leadership, and community festivals.  In 2017, when I ran for political office, it became even clearer how deep these issues impacted the communities stability and growth. I worked with politicians, including the Minister of Education, to advocate for curriculum changes and ensure that Black voices were heard. But just as things were beginning to take shape, I had to return to Ontario for personal reasons. 

Now, back in Ontario, I continue this work because I care about people. I want to see the very best because we are part of the human race. It’s not about me, it’s about the people who need the support. Being an advocate, being that ambassador for humanity, makes a difference. Being that voice for the voiceless is critical. 

What keeps me in this work is knowing that we provide solutions. We see results, even if they are small. We have a long way to go, but we are doing the work. It gives me hope knowing that we have collaborators and allies who are willing to say, “Yes, let’s do this.” It gives me hope to see people who understand the need for this work and want to contribute to real change. But the reality is, we are fighting against systems that are not working for our people. There’s frustration because we know what needs to be done, but the resources are not there. So much funding is given to Black communities, but it doesn’t always reach the people who need it most. 

This work is exhausting. It’s a lot. But we must be intentional. We have to collaborate, share resources, and uplift each other. At the end of the day, even when it’s frustrating, I know the work matters. Seeing people get the support they need, even in small ways, reminds me why I keep going.

Mental health challenges in Black communities don’t always look the way people expect. What patterns have you noticed in the struggles people come to you with? 

Faith Greaves: Mental health doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it’s deeply connected to every aspect of life. When people come to me for help, they’re not asking for therapy. They’re trying to survive. They’re struggling to find housing, facing food insecurity, dealing with financial stress, or navigating unstable employment, and are so afraid of the unexpected. The weight of these challenges creates constant anxiety and emotional exhaustion. 

I’ve seen young people who can’t afford groceries, international students barely managing to stay afloat, mothers carrying layers of trauma while trying to keep their families together, and seniors struggling to make ends meet with their fixed income that doesn’t cover their monthly expenses. Many feel completely alone because the system isn’t built for them, it’s complicated, expensive, and culturally irrelevant. Even when people do reach out, they’re often met with long waitlists, high costs, or professionals who don’t understand their lived experiences. That discourages them from seeking help at all. 

Another major issue is the lack of emergency resources. We don’t have enough immediate funding to help people in crisis. If someone urgently needs to see a specialist or find stable housing, there’s nowhere to turn. That only deepens the struggle. The hardest part is that this isn’t new. When basic needs go unmet, mental health takes a front seat in their life. It becomes a cycle, generation after generation, people fighting the same battles without real systemic change. Until we address these root issues, we’re just treating symptoms instead of solving problems. 

You receive calls at all hours from people in crisis, whether they need housing, food, or mental health support. Many of the young people you help call you ‘Mama’ or ‘Auntie,’ turning to you as a trusted figure. How does carrying that level of responsibility impact your own well-being? 

Faith Greaves: It is a lot to carry. I get calls at two in the morning from people who have nowhere to stay or feel like they have no one else to turn to. Many young people, especially international students and those without family support, call me ‘Mama’ or ‘Auntie’ because that’s how our children are raised, to show respect, and they know I will never turn them away. I take that trust seriously, but with it comes a heavy responsibility. 

The hardest part is that sometimes, despite my best efforts, I do not have all the answers or the resources they need. I see their struggles firsthand and I do everything I can to help, but the demand is constant. The work never stops. When you care deeply, you do not just clock out, you make calls, you reach out those who can support the cause. It follows you home and weighs on you until it’s resolved. 

Carrying this responsibility can be overwhelming. It is not just about offering advice, it is about being the one constant in their lives when everything else feels uncertain. I have to be intentional about maintaining my own well-being because if I am not strong and resilient, I cannot continue this work. Too often, people doing this work carry these burdens in silence. Advocates need just as much care as the people they serve. Balancing my commitment to the community while protecting my own well-being is a constant challenge, but at the end of the day, I know that this work matters. 

Advocacy is deeply personal, but it’s also relentless. When does the work start to take a toll, and how do you recognize when burnout is setting in? 

Faith Greaves: The work takes a toll when you are constantly surrounded by crisis. People come to me for support with housing, food, and mental health concerns, and I see firsthand how much they are struggling. It is frustrating to know that resources exist, but they are not always accessible to the people who need them the most. 

Burnout sets in when I realize that no matter how much I give, the demand keeps growing. There are times when I feel like I am running on fumes, constantly moving from one crisis to the next without a chance to pause. The hardest part is that advocacy does not come with an off switch. I am always thinking about the people I serve, even when I step away. When I start feeling emotionally drained and detached, I know it’s time to reset. For me, that reset comes through prayer. My strength is greater than I often realize, and it’s what allows me to continue this work.  I see myself as a vessel, called to do what is needed. 

At the same time, stepping back feels impossible because there is always someone in need. But I have learned that I cannot carry everything alone. If I do not take care of myself, I won’t be able to keep doing this work, and daily prayer helps me stay grounded and focused. Advocacy is not just about providing support to others. It is about making sure that the work continues in a way that is sustainable for the long term. 

Grassroots leaders are often the first to step up when there’s a need, but they don’t always have the resources to sustain themselves. What kind of support is missing for the people doing this work? 

Faith Greaves: The biggest challenge is that funding does not reach the people doing the actual work. Time and time again, we see funding go to larger organizations, while grassroots leaders, those working directly with the community, are left behind to figure out how to make it work with limited resources. They are asked to support initiatives, but when the money comes in, they are no longer included or needed. They are not part of the success story. There is no training, no development, and no sustainability built into these funding models. 

Beyond funding, there is a lack of direct investment in the growth and stability of grassroots organizations needed for their success. Many leaders are expected to continue doing this work with limited support, no long-term planning, and no access to decision-making spaces. The people closest to the challenges are often the ones with the least power to influence the solutions. Without stable resources, their ability to create lasting impact is constantly at risk . This needs to change for the overall success and well-being of our communities. 

Advocacy and community work require more than just passion. It takes resources, specific training, and a seat at the decision-making table. If we truly want to support those on the frontlines, we need to ensure that they have direct access to funding, the ability to grow their organizations, and the power to shape the solutions they are helping to implement. The cycle of keeping resources at the top while expecting grassroots leaders to carry the weight must be broken. Real change happens when the people closest to the work have the tools to sustain it. 

You’ve said that we need to check in on each other more. In your experience, what does real, meaningful support for advocates look like? 

Faith Greaves: Real support goes beyond words. Too often, people assume that because we are the ones helping others, we are automatically okay. But the truth is, the burden is heavy, and sometimes the volunteers are few, without real support, we suffer in silence. Checking in means more than saying, “I am sorry you are going through this.” It means asking, “How can I help? How can we support you? What challenges are you facing?” and then taking action . 

Support must be intentional and consistent. It means having real conversations, listening to what people need, and following through with actual help. People doing this work should not have to ask for support, it should be built into the system. There should be emergency funds available for those in crisis and real investment in the well-being of advocates. Too many of us push forward, even when we are struggling, because stepping back is abandoning the people who rely on us. 

We have to create a culture where checking in is the norm, not just something we do when someone is visibly struggling. The work is challenging, and we carry a lot. Investing in each other, ensuring we have space to breathe and recover, allows us to continue the work and create lasting change. Real support is not just about helping us survive the work but about making sure we can do it in a way that is healthy and sustainable.

How does the struggle to secure funding and resources affect the mental health and well-being of those working on the ground? 

Faith Greaves: It is frustrating and disheartening. We sit in meetings and hear about the millions of dollars allocated to Black communities, but when it is time to distribute funding, the people doing the real work are often left out. The organizations providing direct support do not get the resources they need, while others with stronger ties to decision-makers receive the bulk of the funding. 

This creates deep resentment and burnout. When you are passionate about your work but constantly struggling to access resources, it takes a toll. We see talented, dedicated people walking away not because they do not care but because they are drained and not getting the support. You cannot keep pouring from an empty cup. 

The system is flawed. It favors those with influence over those making the greatest impact. We need to rethink how funding is allocated. It should be intentional, equitable, and focused on real outcomes, not temporary band aid solutions. If the goal is to strengthen Black communities, then support must reach the organizations working closely with the people who need it most. Every time funding fails to reach the right hands, it not only limits what we can achieve but also affects our mental well-being. The stress, the exhaustion, and the feeling of being overlooked all add up. 

Despite the long hours, the challenges, and the frustrations, you’re still here doing the work. What gives you hope? 

Faith Greaves: What gives me hope is seeing real, tangible results in the work we do. Even small successes, whether it’s a young person finally receiving the support they need or a family finding stability amid turmoil, reinforce that our efforts matter. Those moments, when someone reaches out and says, “Because of you, I was able to get through this,” are incredibly powerful. It’s a reminder that we’re not just offering resources, we’re building connections and changing lives. 

Another source of hope comes from knowing who I am and why I am here, to do the work I’ve been called to, without letting up. I put my trust in God, knowing that change will come. 

Finally, what gives me hope is the power of collaboration and the support of allies. The willingness of people to come together, whether in organizations or within the community, with a shared vision of making a difference, helps me remember that I’m not alone in this. Even though the challenges are overwhelming at times, and the systems we’re working within can be slow to change, knowing that others are equally committed to the cause gives me strength. There’s an undeniable force in collective action, and that’s what keeps me going, even when it feels like the road ahead is long. When we work together with intention, transparency, and commitment, progress becomes not just possible, but inevitable.  

Having friends, family, allies and, collaborating partners gives hope, and above all, daily prayer that helps stabilize my own mental wellness. 

Visit Mozia Women’s Network Society to learn more about the impactful work Faith Greaves is doing to support Black Communities, or contact her directly at [email protected]. 

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the interviewee(s) and do not necessarily reflect the position of the Network for the Advancement of Black Communities (NABC). NABC is committed to providing a platform for diverse voices across the Black community sector and sharing stories that deepen understanding.