Today we’d like to introduce you to Porschia Coleman.
Hi Porschia, so excited to have you with us today. What can you tell us about your story?
From a young age, I felt a deep calling to uplift my community and be a voice for those who are often unheard. Growing up as a dark-skinned African American woman, I experienced discrimination across multiple systems—like mental health, law enforcement, and education. Those experiences didn’t break me; they shaped me. They lit a fire in me to advocate for justice and healing, especially for marginalized communities.
I began my academic journey by earning a degree in Africana Studies at Cal State Long Beach, where I studied the history and resilience of Black communities. Determined to create meaningful change, I went on to pursue my Master’s in Social Work at the University of Denver.
While obtaining my MSW, I began working directly with unhoused individuals—starting in an overnight shelter, then moving into a role with the Salvation Army providing rental and utility assistance, and eventually supporting people in a co-ed Safe Outdoor Space. That work exposed me to the deep intersections of trauma, poverty, and systemic neglect.
Later, as a Family Resource Specialist, I mentored teens and supervised parent-child visitations, building trust with families navigating fragile situations. These experiences further deepened my focus on trauma-informed, culturally responsive care.
From there, I moved into child protective services as an intake caseworker—emotionally demanding work where I tried to disrupt cycles of harm while honoring families’ stories. But the weight of the system eventually took a toll, and I knew I needed to find a space where I could keep doing the work, but in a healthier way.
That led me to Kodiak, Alaska, where I worked in community mental health on a remote island. I provided crisis interventions and trauma-informed therapy in a region with limited resources. It challenged me to grow, adapt, and stay grounded in my purpose.
Now, I’m an Associate Clinical Social Worker and Discernment Counselor at Tala Mental Health, the first all-women-of-color practice in Long Beach, grounded in advocacy, compassion, and humanistic care. For the first time in my career, I feel like I’m in a space where I can show up fully and authentically—supported by colleagues who not only share my values but also reflect my lived experience.
What drives me—through every role and every transition—is a commitment to holistic, affirming care. I want to keep building spaces where people feel seen, heard, and empowered to heal—all while continuing to fight for equity and challenge the systems that uphold racial injustice.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
It definitely hasn’t been a smooth road. As a dark-skinned Black woman navigating predominantly white spaces—from academia to professional settings—I’ve carried the weight of constantly having to adapt, explain, and advocate for my own existence. I’ve experienced everything from overt racism to more insidious microaggressions, and the toll of that is real.
In many professional spaces, I was expected to be the spokesperson during Black History Month or the voice of all things “diversity.” It felt performative—like I was being tokenized rather than truly valued for the depth of my skills and insight. And when those inevitable microaggressions happened—like having my tone policed, being told I was “too passionate,” or having my ideas dismissed—what stung the most was the silence. No one intervened. I had to carry it all myself.
On top of that, there was the constant pressure to code-switch—adjusting the way I spoke, dressed, or expressed myself just to feel safe or respected in certain rooms. It was an exhausting form of emotional labor: constantly editing myself to be “palatable” enough for systems that were never built with people like me in mind. I knew that if I showed up fully as myself, I risked being misjudged or marginalized. But if I dimmed myself, I lost something vital in the process.
That tension created anxiety. I often felt like I was navigating two worlds—one where I was deeply rooted in the needs and experiences of my community, and another where I had to constantly justify why those needs mattered.
And yet, these struggles have made me who I am. They’ve given me a deep understanding of how systems operate—and how people of color are too often asked to contort themselves just to survive within them. These experiences have fueled my commitment to trauma-informed, culturally responsive care and my passion for advocacy.
That’s why my current role at Tala Mental Health has been so transformative. For the first time, I don’t have to code-switch or shrink parts of myself to fit in. I’m surrounded by women of color who affirm my identity and values, and together, we create space for clients to feel the same kind of safety and authenticity.
The challenges I’ve faced didn’t break me. They made me more intentional about the kind of healing I want to offer—and the kind of spaces I want to help build. Spaces where people of color can be seen, heard, and held—without having to translate or explain their existence.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
I’m an Associate Clinical Social Worker at Tala Mental Health, a private practice with locations in both Long Beach and Echo Park. Tala is a deeply intentional space—founded by Junie Abito, a woman of color and rooted in advocacy, culturally responsive care, and trauma-informed, humanistic values. We exist to serve communities that have often been overlooked or misunderstood in traditional mental health settings.
In my role, I work with individuals, couples, and children. I specialize in supporting people—especially Black women and other people of color—who are navigating complex trauma, anxiety, identity development, and relational struggles. With couples, I focus on strengthening communication, building emotional safety, and unpacking generational and cultural dynamics. With children, I use developmentally appropriate, trauma-informed approaches that honor their emotional worlds and help them feel safe, seen, and supported.
What I’m known for is the space I create—where people don’t have to explain or minimize their lived experiences. Clients often say they finally feel understood and affirmed. I show up with cultural humility, authenticity, and a deep commitment to honoring the whole person, not just their symptoms.
What I’m most proud of is the trust I’ve earned from people who have been failed by systems—clients who have never felt safe in therapy, families impacted by systemic injustice, or children carrying trauma they can’t yet put into words. Being able to walk alongside them in their healing process is incredibly meaningful.
What sets me apart is the intersection of my clinical expertise and my lived experience. I’ve worked across systems—child welfare, shelters, community mental health—and I understand the deep, often invisible impact of systemic oppression on mental health. I bring that awareness into every session, ensuring that therapy is not only effective but also affirming and liberatory.
At the heart of my work is a belief that healing is not just possible—it’s a right. And my mission is to help create spaces where people of all ages and identities feel safe to grow, reclaim their narratives, and move toward wholeness.
What do you like best about our city? What do you like least?
Long Beach is home for me—I grew up here, and I love the vibrant diversity and strong sense of community that defines the city. There’s a rich cultural fabric, with so many different stories and voices that make it a unique and dynamic place. I appreciate how people here are passionate about uplifting their neighborhoods, supporting one another, and creating spaces where everyone can belong. That deep connection to community is something I carry with me personally and professionally, and it inspires my work every day.
That said, like many cities, it’s not without challenges. One of the things I find difficult is how systemic inequities still show up—whether that’s in housing instability, access to mental health resources, or disparities in healthcare, education and employment. Sometimes it feels like the city’s growth and progress don’t reach everyone equally, and that can be frustrating. I also notice the pressures and stresses that come with urban living—like traffic, cost of living, and sometimes a lack of affordable, safe spaces for vulnerable populations. But I see those challenges as opportunities to bring my passion and skills to help make a real difference.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://talamentalhealth.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/talamentalhealth?igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==






Image Credits
Victoria Sanchez
Jeremiah Jordan
Xiaopan Xue
