Strong Minds, Strong Men with Dan Gillison

We live in a microwave society trying to solve crockpot problems—especially when it comes to men's mental health. 

In this powerful conversation, I sit down with Dan Gillison, CEO of NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness), to break down the stigma around men's mental health, the importance of lived experience, and why men need to start having real conversations about mental well-being.

💡 Topics We Cover:
The role of mental health in a man's overall well-being
The stigma of men’s mental health and why it needs to end
How NAMI is leading the charge for awareness and support
Personal stories of resilience and overcoming struggles
The power of community, connection, and conversation

🎧 Watch, Listen & Share – This discussion could change a life. If you or someone you know needs support, visit nami.org and or manupwithrandyryan.com  for resources and more information.

📌 Don't forget to LIKE, COMMENT, and SUBSCRIBE for more real conversations about men’s health, mental wellness, and personal growth.

Transcript

Randy Ryan:
We've become a microwave society trying to solve crockpot problems.

It takes a special kind of person to be the face, voice, and leader of a national nonprofit—someone who approaches challenges and opportunities with innovation and an open mind. It takes someone with the intellect to speak eloquently about complex topics, and the "IT factor"—the kind of person you simply want to be in the room with.

And today, I’m in that room with Dan Gillison, the CEO of NAMI—the National Alliance on Mental Illness.

Dan’s background is impressive. He studied at Southern University, continued his Executive Education at the University of Richmond, and later at Harvard University. But as we both know—no one really cares how much you know until they know how much you care.

So, Dan, why do you care about mental health, and why should we all care?

Dan Gillison:
It’s part of the human experience, Randy. For far too long, we’ve focused only on physical health, neglecting mental health. But there is no physical health without mental health—something the World Health Organization recognized over 20 years ago.

Too often, we focus on **what we can see—the shoulders down—**ignoring the mind, emotions, and struggles that aren't as visible.

But before I get into that, I want to say thank you. Thank you for using your voice and platform to amplify these conversations. Every discussion like this is a force multiplier, helping so many others.

For me, this work is deeply personal. After spending 32 years in corporate America, I saw an opportunity to give back. My "why" comes from family experience—I lost someone very close to me to suicide in 1986. She was supposed to be the first in our family to graduate from college, a role model to younger siblings. She felt alone. She was alone.

That loss created a ripple effect in my family. If there’s anything I can do through NAMI to prevent another family from experiencing that kind of pain, then I want to do it.

And for men, this is huge. We struggle with navigating emotions, vulnerability, and expectations. Too often, we hear that men need to "be strong," but we need to redefine what that really means.

Randy Ryan:
I believe that as men, we are bridges—built over time using bricks of masculine clichés passed down through generations.

But some of those bricks are no longer useful. Some need to fall away. And when they do, the foundation of what it means to be a man feels like it's weakening.

And yet, some of those bricks must fall for us to grow.

Dan Gillison:
Absolutely. Society often judges a book by its cover—but we need to read the chapters, understand the lived experiences behind every individual. That’s what NAMI is all about—lived experience.

Suicide has touched so many lives, including mine. I lost a dear friend, a retired Marine—someone who had served his country, built a successful life, had a beautiful family. From the outside, everything looked fine. But one day, he died by suicide.

Even now, we ask, "Why?" But sometimes, there is no easy answer.

What I do know is this—talking about it matters. And NAMI provides spaces—both in-person and virtual—where people can connect, share, and process their grief without judgment.

Randy Ryan:
And that’s the key. Because when we don’t talk about it, we fuel the stigma.

I’ve lost two friends this year—both completely different. One was a veteran, one was a civilian. One was Black, one was White. One was successful, one was struggling.

Different lives, different stories—but the same ending.

And at both of their funerals, their families described their deaths as an "untimely passing." Suicide was never mentioned.

I respect their choice, but it made me realize something: The silence is part of the problem.

If we can’t even say the word, how can we expect men to come forward when they’re struggling?

Dan Gillison:
That silence is crippling. And it’s not just the men who are struggling—it’s their families, their communities, their legacies.

I was recently speaking with a sheriff in Coconino County, who showed me something eye-opening—his "military pod" in the county jail.

There were inmates from the Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force, and Coast Guard. And he told me something powerful:

"I’m not a medical professional, but I can tell you—every single one of these men has something going on mentally."

These are men who served their country, followed a creed, upheld their values—and now, they’re in jail, struggling in silence.

That’s why having these conversations is so important. We have to talk about it—everywhere.

Randy Ryan:
Speaking of conversations, I teach NAMI Homefront, and I’ve seen firsthand how powerful these peer connections can be.

Just recently, I had two mothers in my class—both had sons in the military, both had sons in prison.

They bonded instantly, forming a relationship that lasted far beyond our eight-week sessions. That’s what community looks like—people finding each other, supporting each other.

Dan Gillison:
That’s exactly why NAMI exists. We’re not just a mental health organization—we’re a community, a collective, a convenor.

We create judgment-free spaces where people can sit around the table, share, and heal.

Men, in particular, need these spaces. We’ve been conditioned to believe that strength means silence. But true strength comes from speaking up, from being vulnerable, from breaking the cycle.

That’s why we at NAMI say: "We meet you where you are, not where we want you to be."

Randy Ryan:
I love that. And as men, we need to meet each other where we are, too.

I developed my own coping mechanisms—I call it my "mental health menu."

• Appetizers: Quick coping skills, like taking a deep breath.
• Entrées: Deeper work, like journaling or meditating.
• Desserts: Small rewards, like a piece of chocolate.

We all need a toolkit. But too many men turn to unhealthy coping mechanisms—substance abuse, overworking, shutting down.

We need to encourage healthy coping, healthy conversations, and healthy connections.

Dan Gillison:
Exactly. That’s why NAMI is doing everything we can—social media campaigns, podcasts, outreach, books, and advocacy.

In fact, we recently released a book: "You Are Not Alone: The NAMI Guide to Navigating Mental Illness."

It’s filled with real stories, lived experiences, and practical advice for those struggling and their families.

Randy Ryan:
And that’s the key—hope starts with us.

Men need to talk more, connect more, break down barriers—just like we’re doing today.

Dan, thank you for this conversation. Your leadership, passion, and vision are changing lives.