On Being Black And In Medicine: Considerations for New Black Interns

To say being Black in Medicine is incredibly layered and nuanced would be an immense understatement. Even more so for new Black interns. If an employee isn’t calling you the nurse, someone else is eyeing your ID badge (HARD!) and sizing you up while trying to determine if the MD or DO is a typo. If the fake woke people in your program aren’t engaging you in some performative conversation about their latest social mission, they’re showcasing their actual blindspots by being incredibly racist toward your patients. And if folks aren’t reminding you how they “advocated for more Blacks in the program,” they’re undercutting you to try to encourage acquiescence to their ideal power dynamic. Yes, even in the great “progressive” state of New York. Add in the other factors like moving your whole life, potential strains on relationships, humanistic self-doubt, minimal recovery time from the arduous process that is medical school, an abrupt increase in responsibility for people’s actual lives…it’s A LOT, y’all. Oh the things I have already seen, heard, and experienced. BUT I constantly remind myself I am where I am for a reason. God makes no mistakes and I fully intend to live out my specific purpose for this season and locale. I wanted to share some tips and considerations that really have helped me deal and get through this daily walk that is residency. Keep reading for how I have been operating as of late:

Draw a line in the sand and demonstrate how you expect to be treated by colleagues early on. Unfortunately, we are often targeted for foolery and expected to respond in a “certain way.” Keep it cool. Call a meeting with your higher ups if necessary. If anyone tries to engage you in nonsense, nip it in the bud on the FIRST encounter and keep a paper trail of how you managed it. You are there to learn and should have a zero tolerance policy for anyone who tries to jeopardize that. Be firm. Be direct. And then back to work.

Always introduce yourself as Dr. ALWAYS!! None of that “Oh it’s ok to call me (first name)” stuff. Nope! Not with patients and not with some staff. Feel it out. We don’t always have the luxury of assuming informality. We are already presumed to be the nurse, the tech, the custodial staff; anything but Doctor. All of our jobs are important; however, we should absolutely stand in the positions we worked to achieve. I introduce myself as Dr. Bazzell when I walk in and talk to my patients. I am Dr. Bazzell when I walk in and introduce myself to the nurse and team. I politely correct people when they assume the incorrect role. When we all do this, we show people from all walks of life that we, too, are what doctors look like. We also affirm ourselves in our roles and garner the confidence we need to foster decision-making power and healthy working relationships. Some say titles don’t matter. I WORKED for this. We all did. Our ancestors did. Call me Doctor, please.

If you see something, say something. Y’all, please do this. We are here to advocate for all patients and especially ones from our community. Oftentimes, Black patients are categorized as “difficult.” They’re discussed differently. Things are escalated with them more quickly. They’re dehumanized more easily. Yes, I’ve already seen it. Step in when you can. Ask your chief or attending if you can try speaking with the patient. Sometimes it really does help to see someone who looks like you and who may take a different approach. I have done this on more than one occasion. I am asking the nurse. I am speaking with the chief. Engaging people you have barely worked with (and who may not even be on your service) in conversations surrounding patients and race may be uncomfortable. But part of the reason our positions are so important is because we can actually make a difference. Another reason why titles can and do matter. Sometimes people see or hear “Dr.” and respond differently or move faster. Advocate, y’all. It means so much for patients to have someone who looks like them step in.

Try not to tell future residents how hard things will be without giving them solid tips on how to overcome. It’s residency. It’s medicine. And we’re Black. It has its hard parts. But fear mongering helps no one. Also, your experience and program may be completely different from someone else’s. I was told I would NEVER have a life outside of medicine…clearly not the case. Provide solutions and encouragement so we can build up the generation of Black docs coming behind us. Don’t be a gatekeeper (especially when it comes to helpful information and tips for survival). Bust that thing wide open for those coming up behind you.

Find your tribe. Surround yourself with those who care about your success and respect your career trajectory. Surround yourself with those who can identify with your unique experience. It really does help. Brunch. Game night. Venting sessions. The like. Truly, it makes all the difference.

Y’all, we are in such unique positions. We are Black in Medicine. We are new. We are at the steep end of the learning curve. We are also powerful beyond measure. Let’s stand in that power and be great—for each other, for our patients, for our communities. Proud of y’all! Let’s keep rocking!

xx,

Photos by Dadou Studios

Preset by Tina Smith