I Survived My First Year in Residency & My First Year in New York. Let’s Talk About It.

SURVIVAL. I was driven into that mode almost instantly. My start in NYC was rough. And it did impact my view of the city and my experience therein. Allow me to explain.

On my 4^th day of residency, I was called into an unexpected meeting with two admins. They said they wanted to talk to me about my social media. I was a bit nervous and confused at the same time, though I knew I had nothing to hide. They had never spoken to me about my social media before, but I assumed they knew about it. Everyone includes social media in background checks. They referenced a video I posted to IG stories my first day of work after an OB shift. I was incredibly excited and said I can’t wait to only see women as my patients; no men or children. Common sense dictates the implication of that video: I will be a women’s health provider once residency is over; clearly, as I am in a Family Medicine program. I was speaking about my future practice. Funnily enough, one of my SAC community members sent me a DM this past Tuesday. The last DM she sent me was from the day I posted the video in question exactly 1 year ago. I watched the archived video and I CLEARLY AND LITERALLY SAID, “No men. No children. ONCE I’M DONE.” After seeing that video in over 1 year’s time, I’m even more floored by the situation. No, I did not watch it back last year because I felt the entire conversation was unnecessary and I had a lot going on. I digress. The admins said two recent graduates had screen recorded and sent them the video out of “concern.” Invasion. Of. Privacy. Based on the entire video I watched, these perps did not even bother to screen record the entire sound bite. The admins said repeatedly that I have a public page which is open for scrutiny and criticism. Get this: people can have an opinion, but when those opinions start to get in the way of my job which I worked incredibly hard to secure (!!!), that’s a problem. And no, it’s not ok with me. My page has been and will remain public because it’s a source of income and brands need to be able to find me/see my work. No one gets in between me and my bag. And if we’re talking about a monthly income, I do make more from blogging than I make from being a resident physician.

The admins said they wanted to check in with me to ensure I have an understanding of what Family Medicine is. One video. A 10 second sound bite. All this drama. I stopped the conversation and interjected immediately: “My career trajectory, my decision on what I will and will not practice.” Women’s health was all over my residency application and all over my personal statement. I actually had lengthy conversations with the admins prior to starting residency so we could ensure I get everything I need in the next three years. I reminded them I went to medical school. I had to complete a Family Medicine rotation. I knowingly applied to Family Medicine residency. Why would I then come here and think I would only see female patients? Yes, I welcome all opportunities for more women’s health exposure, but I know full well I have to see men and children as a part of this residency. And I Do. Again, it’s common sense. I felt the entire basis of this conversation was so petty, so small. And the perpetrators? Two bored, sad, underemployed recent graduates and a couple of their current resident friends. The admins did not even have to confirm who they were. I already knew. Being observant has its perks. I kept saying their names until one of the admins confirmed it was indeed them who sent the video. The two ringleaders were showing up to clinic “just to say hi” to people even after residency graduation. They were extremely loud and obnoxious during my interview. This act of harassment had their names all over it. And they didn’t stop at sending the video to my bosses. They sent it around the entire program.

How incredibly juvenile. Yep, the video made its way to various resident group chats and I was informed a few days later. These two perps had not even had the decency to speak to me first about their “concerns” directly. During my meeting with the admins, I was informed one of the perps would be joining faculty at the program. I told them I absolutely would not be working with her and that we have to stop telling Black people to work with those we know are problematic. That is never the answer, especially not for me. I also said I would not be working with any current residents who helped circulate the video. They agreed. Oh yea, I brought up race almost immediately because this incident was indeed racist. Why, you may ask? The program has at least two white female faculty who exclusively or almost exclusively see female patients. As a matter of fact, one of them told me that’s what she does. But when I say that’s my goal (after already saying it ad nauseam in my application materials), it’s a problem? I can’t do that for my community? Nah.

One of the perps actually approached me a few months after this incident and behaved as though she had no clue who I was. “You’re Anya, right? I don’t think we’ve met yet.” Y’all, I was FLOORED. It’s one thing to harass me. It’s quite another to think I’m not smart enough to figure out it was You. I told her with the quickness, “No. We haven’t met yet, but I heard you’ve already been talking about me.” Egg all over her face. I wish I had taken a photo of her expression. She walked away bewildered and bamboozled. Clearly, she had already run amok. She and her little comrades really did expect me to lay down, be meek, and say I’ll practice the type of medicine they want me to. I’ll acquiesce to the storyline they contrived in their imaginations about me. They had no idea who they were ranking in that residency match.

I cried. I felt violated. I didn’t yet trust folks in my program because I didn’t know them. Still, I thought enough of my colleagues to allow them into this sacred space I had created for myself and my SAC community. Here I am trying to encourage future doctors and generate positivity. These people came in with their negativity and tried to terrorize me in my own space. When I saw people from my program start to follow me on social media, I allowed it without question; thinking all were mature enough to leave me be and quietly watch as I live my best life. I was wrong. They tried to turn my space into something ugly and control my narrative while doing it. I let them know no one will ever control my narrative. EVER. And believe me, I said it loudly.

I absolutely went on a Blocking. Frenzy. One of my co-residents took the time out of her day to send me multiple screenshots of pretty much everyone’s IG profiles so I could block them and protect my space accordingly. She found everyone. A real one. I will never forget how she did that for me. I’m tearing up as I write the words. I blocked pretty much anyone I did not know outside my intern class (nothing personal) and those who violated me (personal!!). And that’s very sad for them. Cause baby, this content is A1.

Another one of my co-residents sent a group message to our resident-wide group chat indicating I was owed an apology from all who participated in the harassment. Again, the tears. She stood up for me and backed me when she barely knew me. I will always appreciate her for that public display of support. A Black woman PUBLICLY initiated my defense and I want the record to show that. Others in the group co-signed what she said. Again, real ones. I won’t share exactly what I said in the group chat lol, but rest assured I made myself clear: I am not the one.

I never received that apology from the actual perps; not even the one who joined faculty as an Attending. Instead, those involved apologized to the then chief. I suppose the message was supposed to be relayed to me. Yes, allow that to sink in. I could not and still cannot believe the level of immense cowardice, immaturity, and ignorance. And y’all…here’s the real kicker: Guess where one of the perps and her little recently graduated accomplice ended up working. Go ahead. Just guess. PLANNED PARENTHOOD. Yep!! I wonder how many men and (non-adolescent) children they’re seeing there. For those who are even a bit confused, NONE!!! Looks like they are just as interested in Women’s Health as I am, if not more. Total, utter, unmitigated hypocrisy and stupidity. I was expected to stop talking about this incident and to stop talking about it almost immediately. I did not and will not until there are appropriate measures in place to keep Black residents safe. Let’s just say I’m not the first Black resident to have an issue here. One of my co-residents said (behind my back) that I would likely get really depressed, start to call out of work, and cause other residents to come in for back up to cover my shifts. Yep, that’s what was said instead of holding the perps accountable for their actions. Not one person was held accountable. Still, I’ll have you all know I only called out and activated back up ONE time this entire year. ONE. If anything was going to make me call out, it would not be THIS. With residency suicide rates being what they are, I’m perplexed at how this act of harassment was minimized. I thank God I know Jesus and don’t require much external validation.

So what did I do? I bossed up and kept showing up as always. I:

-Called another meeting with the admins and discussed my expectations going forward. I also reminded them I am in no way, shape, or form affiliated with the program on my social media. My program name is not in my IG bio. Y’all still don’t know where I matched and I don’t intend on telling 13.1K people where they can find me on the daily. Still love y’all! Therefore, any comments I make reflect not on the program, but on my personal experience. And I reserve the right to talk about that.

-Explained that no other residents—past or present—should ever or will ever have jurisdiction to impact any part of my experience or training

-Developed a presentation on Black resident wellness and provided recommendations for our program

-Met with the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) president to ensure there is a standardized method for reporting racism and harassment in our workplace. A company-wide email with reporting procedure and protocol was sent out a couple months ago.

-Developed a policy for mandatory reporting of racism among residents especially on final evaluations for post-residency job evaluations. The policy is currently being reviewed by the DEI. Here’s why that policy is important.

-Provided recommendations for a cultural competency remediation plan for residents accused of racism

-Advocated for a reproductive health track so I could have even more exposure to the women’s health I love so much. My program director obliged and y’all…my 2^nd Year schedule is LIT!!!

One day, all of these recommendations and policy development with come with a consultation fee, m’kay.

Y’all know I have plenty experience advocating for myself. I didn’t stop. I didn’t quit. I didn’t go back home. Instead, I turned my frustration and anger into endeavors to protect Black residents the way I was not protected and to support future residents who, too, have an interest in women’s health. I’m proud of that, y’all. I am proud. One of the admins did ultimately apologize to me for bringing me into that senseless meeting on my fourth day of residency. She apologized for listening to the useless comments of those graduates. I respect her for that and I thank her for helping me get the training I need.

At the same time alllll of this was going on, I was working 70-80 hours a week. I was learning how to be a doctor. I was working overtime to figure out if there were faculty who had preconceived notions about me (based on that video) which may impact my learning. I also had a nice warm welcome to NYC with a few unexpected guests in my apartment. Yep, roaches. They were everywhere all the time. I was disgusted. I tried everything from boric acid to that liquid gel stuff to hiring my own exterminator. Nothing worked. I was so disheartened. I felt like I was fighting for my life at work and did not have a comfortable place to lay my head at night. I have family in the city and very close by, but I came here alone. I do not have a significant other (as do almost all of my co-interns) to cry to at night or, at the very least, talk trash about people who were mean to me. And I surely didn’t have anyone to stomp out those roaches. I began to wonder if there were any points of entry large enough for mice and would mentally lose my cool each time I thought about it. I didn’t use my oven for months. I didn’t prepare any food, not even my typical salads. I would get noodles from the Thai place down the street and just pray I didn’t pack on mad weight. My landlord and broker were incredibly slow to respond about the issues I had in my new home. Sometimes they didn’t respond at all. I felt lied to. I felt jilted. I take great pride in my home and the cleanliness therein. I am Type A. Everything is organized and kept clean. I am a good steward of what God gave me. Here I was completely without control over my home’s cleanliness. I live in Manhattan, so there are no in-building trash shoots. Instead, trash piles up on the street and there aren’t enough garbage days in the world to control it. The trash is incredibly unsightly and, in my opinion, downright depressing to see every single day. During those first few months, all I could think about was my Atlanta apartment, the 1 day turnaround for any maintenance issue, trash in actual trash bins, and the real amenities. That rooftop…

Eventually, the super discovered there were multiple holes in my apartment. They were hidden behind appliances. He covered them with tons of caulking. I watched intently as he did it. My Auntie and I had already filled any openings surrounding the radiator pipes with steel wool and tape. Nothing was getting through there. And nothing did.

The roaches stopped. I learned that if I kept my window unit on all day, my apartment would not be a complete sweat box when I returned home from work (what electricity bill?!) The temperature became cooler. The trash stopped smelling as badly with the hot summer months behind us. I learned more life hacks for living in NYC. For those who watch my IG stories, my in-unit washer/dryer got fixed. My landlord got better (although he still has a long way to go) and my neighbors thanked me for it. I grew more confidently in my skills as a clinician. I began to trust my co-residents (who didn’t act crazy toward me). I even went on a group trip with my co-interns and had an amazing time (when we weren’t hiking. Ha!) I started to go out more. I started to enjoy the city. I fell in love with Harlem. I fell head first into this experience.   

After my incredibly harsh welcome into residency, I thought I would resolve to keep to myself, put my head down, and just focus on work for the duration of the program. I thought I would live in a silo and not let anyone in. I’m just so glad God softened my heart and freed me of bitterness. I can honestly say I like each and every one of my co-interns. I truly enjoy spending time with and working with them. That is rare and I do not take it for granted. Most of my co-residents are amazing as well. I am so grateful for them. I have met and worked with some incredible faculty who want me to practice the kind of medicine I want to practice when all is said and done. They train me, advise me, and help me develop the skills I need.

And New York. My, how we’ve grown since this post. Some of those sentiments will remain (especially the ones about the trash, cost of living, and racism), but I can honestly say I’m trying. I still do not see myself being here for the long haul, but I really have worked to enjoy the city when I have the time. I’m trying to remind myself of the beauty that is here and the initial intrigue I once felt in my 20’s. I’ve become a tourist of the city and I like what I see. Harlem is absolutely That Girl and I hope to live there before my time here is done. I’ve created a routine here. I pop over to Harlem Cycle on weekends for my spin class. I stop by Red Rooster for the sweet potato soup and cornbread on a cool day. I meet up with friends at Settepani for coffee and conversation. I pick a new place to go at least every two weeks; whether it be an Alvin Ailey show, a tour of the Apollo, shopping in SoHo…

And my blog. Y’all my blog!! Surgery And The City is in THE city and it’s been a whole year since I’ve written this post. I’m just so proud of the growth. A lot of y’all noticed how I picked up with content creation almost immediately after moving to the city. No time lost or wasted. I pride myself on that consistency even with a 70-80 work week as an intern. I pride myself on the relationships I’m building here with NYC partners and PR firms. I surpassed my half year goal before the end of Q2 and I do believe I’m just getting started. Moving to NYC has absolutely been good for business and I will always be willing to come back and forth to New York for SAC opportunities.

Someone in my SAC community asked me what I wish I had known prior to starting residency. I wish I had truly known and been more confident in the fact that I can do the hardest of things. God is constantly showing me new levels of exactly what that means. Perhaps that knowing would have ameliorated some of my fears about this big move a bit sooner. The beginning of this year could have crushed me. Instead, I rose to the occasion. I reminded myself who I am and who God is. And here we are. That’s what I want newly minted residents to know: You can do anything. You are strong enough for anything. Many a thing may be thrown at you during residency, but you can handle it. Pray. Go to therapy. Take time for yourself. Handle your business. I Did. You Will.

I’m excited for what the future holds. I’m excited for my reproductive health track. I’m excited to see more Black residents supported and encouraged and made safe. I’m excited to see SAC grow beyond my wildest dreams. For the first time in months, I feel excited. I’m not surviving anymore, y’all. I’m thriving and I worked really hard to get to this space. If you are new to NYC, I pray you get to that space too. I hear if you can make it a year, you can make it several more. If you are starting anything new, I pray you lean in all the way and get all you can from the experience. I hope it turns out beautifully.

Well, I’m off to be a 2^nd Year resident!! I’m at the hospital and I gotta help out my intern. Until next time.

My tracksuit is from Telfar. You can shop the rest of my look below:

xx,

Photos by Sweetie Mensah

Preset by Tina Smith