I’ll never forget the shake of terror in my mother’s voice the day her partner was rushed to the ER after he suffered a stroke. He spent the next month on life support in a coma, his family and friends all praying for his recovery. Eventually, he was taken off support and passed away quietly in his hospital bed leaving his family reeling from the sudden and unexpected loss. This is the fate of far too many Black men in America, and what’s worse - it’s preventable.

This topic is making headlines yet again as we mourn the loss of legendary screenwriter and director John Singleton, who suffered a stroke and was taken off of life support yesterday. He’s been a staple in Black art and cinema history since his debut film in 1991, Boyz N the Hood. The film earned him an Oscar nod and the rank as the youngest person to receive a Best Director consideration from the academy.

After that, other John Singleton movies included gems like Poetic Justice, Baby Boy and 2 Fast, 2 Furious - films that will forever be known as cult classics. But at only 51 years of age, Singleton’s passing feels too quiet for such a thunderous creative presence. As we reflect on his impressive career and untimely departure, it’s important to also talk about why we are losing Black men to stroke, hypertension, and fatal heart conditions so often.

John Singleton isn’t the first Black celebrity to die of a stroke at a fairly young age. In 2011, rapper Nate Dogg passed away suddenly after suffering a stroke. Within the same year, actor and comedian Patrice O’Neal also passed away from a sudden stroke. Both men were 42 when they died. The National Stroke Association notes that Black men in America have a risk of stroke that is twice as high as their white counterparts.

Of course, as is the case with many health organizations, the National Stroke Association gives no definitive answer as to why strokes happen more often in the Black community. In fact, there is a similar sense of mystery surrounding the exceptionally high rate of maternal and fetal complications and fatalities among Black women, who are four times more likely to die during or after childbirth.

But to many within the Black community, the answer is pretty clear. This is another example of racism showing up in our medical care. I spoke with Byron Jasper, MD, MPH, founder and executive director of Comprehensive Medical Mentoring Program (CMMP) to ask why it has become so commonplace for young Black men to lose their lives to stroke.

“A lot of these [providers] who are often tasked with treating our demographic don’t understand the demographic as a whole,” said Dr. Jasper, who has been practicing medicine for eight years as a primary care physician.

Programs like CMMP advocate for Black medical students who may otherwise find it difficult to navigate through the “white tape” of becoming doctors. “We’re focused on mentoring minorities that are interested in going into the medical field so we can get more minority physicians and minority pharmacists and so forth.” The racial gap that exists between Black patients and doctors reveals why diversity can be the difference between health and illness for some.

“These doctors don’t realize that this is not a person issue, it’s a public health issue and a generational issue.” Dr. Jasper went on to say that it’s typically the entire family related to a patient that needs to be helped as well, either because they are also suffering from similar ailments or because their daily lifestyle and habits are hindering their health from improving. But many Black men are at a disadvantage before they even enter the doctor’s office.

Dr. Jasper goes on to explain why entering a doctor’s office is still an experience that feels foreign to so many Black people. “If you are a person living in an area that experiences a lot of violence, it’s less likely that you are going to want to leave your house to even go to the doctor, because of the possibility of getting robbed or shot.” This is part of what is called social determinants of health - or factors from one’s life which hinder their ability or motivation to seek medical care.

How many of us have been told to put ice on a wound that might have needed an x-ray? How many times have we heard family members pray away illness or take an over-the-counter painkiller to avoid seeking medical care? These factors are the tip of the iceberg when it comes to silent killers like high blood pressure, hypertension and stress, which seem to sneak up on us as early as our 20s.

It’s no mystery why - walking down the street in our own neighborhoods, many of us had reason to feel extreme stress and experience trauma. For the boys I grew up with it was the constant threat of police harassment that kept them confined to the routines they were used to day-to-day.

Black men are dealing with structural racism as well; being underpaid and overlooked for career opportunities and hearing teachers tell them they won’t make it to college or should sit down and be quiet. There’s constant messaging telling Black men they’re not here to thrive and should be content with mere survival. This does not teach men of color they deserve and have a right to make their physical and emotional health their top priority.

Because of this disconnect, a very harmful and profitable pattern perpetuates. Black men, who are incarcerated five times more frequently than white men, are more likely to die by stroke than homicide, according to a study done by the National Center for Biotechnology Information.

What we’re battling as a community is much deeper than just being seen as a low priority by healthcare providers. This is an issue that requires re-education not just within the medical community but within our families.

Dr. Jasper explained a concept he referred to as “generational training,” which essentially means that we’ve been taught as a people not to seek help. “If your grandmother didn’t have access, so she didn’t know when to go to the doctor, she didn’t know when to seek healthcare. So how would your mother know? And how would you know?”

He continued to explain the other side of this issue, lack of diversity in the medical industry and a history riddled with abuse - the Tuskegee syphilis experiments, the stolen cancer cells of Henrietta Lacks and Marion Sims, who infamously practiced painful procedures on Black women without anesthesia. We have been deeply wounded by the medical community, and a lot of us are still leery of trusting physicians especially when they don’t look like us.

Dr. Jasper’s organization is just one of a handful that has emerged to help increase the number of Black faces we see and can trust at the doctor’s office. There is also a surge of awareness around Black mental health and healthy stress reduction techniques among men and the unique ways to empower them to talk about what hurts.

A 2018 study by the National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute (NHLBI) found that barbershops offered safe spaces for Black men to engage with each other in healing ways. In the study of a group of Black men ages 35-79, 63% saw their dangerously high blood pressure lower to healthy levels after six months of being exposed to barbers who encouraged them to seek mental health care and medical intervention. This hard to reach demographic is uniquely trapped within toxic stereotypes that protect self-neglect, unhealthy diets and shame, and programs that meet these men where they already are are absolutely vital to seeing things change.

Our generation is tasked with changing the trajectory of stigma and questioning the ignorance of arrogant doctors who are colorblind to a dangerous fault. In the meantime, we stand to continue losing Black men too soon and in ways that are often so easily preventable. In the battle for our health, Black men and Black women face the same enemy - the resistance to make the important connection between our stories and our health.

The opinions expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of BET Networks.