This speech was given by Kat D’Arcy-Cumber (Chelmsford) at the Church of England’s General Synod, in February 2026. With my thanks to Kat sharing it, and aspects of her own lived experience, with us.
“I was 23 and I’d never heard of psychosis. I was confused as to what the hell was happening. The doctors were equally unsure. At one point, I was looked at by a neurosurgeon. At another point, they thought I had schizophrenia. The jury was out for quite some time as they worked out how best to deal with me. The actual breakdown probably didn’t last very long, but I think I was suffering from the effects of psychosis for months.”
Those are the words of the actor, David Harewood, who experienced a psychotic breakdown not long after leaving drama school.
While we have come to understand mental health and its challenges better in recent years I would like to speak briefly about some of the statistics.
Of people detained under the Mental Health Act, those of Global Majority Heritage are disproportionately affected.
According to NHS data published in September 2025, those in the category “any other Black background”, experienced 780.3 detentions per 100,000 people, this is twelve times the rate of White British people. For those of any other mixed background – that’s people like me – it was 306 per 100,000, and for the Caribbean group 250.4 per 100,000 compared to just 64.9 per 100,000 for White British people.
Of course this isolates data by racial background, without taking into account other intersecting factors, such as poverty or disability, but the numbers give a stark message.
David Harewood attributes his psychotic breakdown to living in a country surrounded by constant sometimes blatant, sometimes low level or even unconscious, but ever-present racism. And there is no doubt that the pressures of being a Black or Brown person in this country at this moment in time are a constant, ringing voice in your head.
There is always the awareness of difference — of being the only person like you in a particular space.
Despite having been born in what was once the constituency of Winston Churchill, having lived here all my life, and having two British parents, I have lost count of the times I have been told I could not be British because my skin is the wrong colour. Growing up, it was a common experience to be called names in the street, and while you develop a level of resilience to this, there is always the awareness of difference. Of being the only person like you in a particular space. Every time I leave my town, or even pop to the supermarket, I have to drive down roads of flags. And not flags put up for VE Day, the King’s Coronation or my beloved Last Night of the Proms, but flags that are there to tell me that I am not welcome.
So it is no wonder, with this message of exclusion, everywhere you look, flags being flown across the country, right-wing politicians given vast amounts of airtime, wealthy Christians funding right wing and often racist media, poorly researched books trying to disprove what respected historians have already proved about the treatment of our ancestors, and even speeches in this chamber – a constant barrage that you cannot escape – that people of Global Majority Heritage will experience disproportionately high mental health challenges.
And so, if the church is serious about its spiritual and pastoral role supporting those experiencing mental health challenges, it must also confront, challenge and seek to change the wider social exclusion and injustice that contribute so significantly to them.
