Today is the man's birthday.
For an entire year he has taken care of me as I navigated nursing school. For an entire year he has worked to turn other people's ideas about him on their head. And for an entire year I have been amazed by his strength, his growth, and his ability to provide for me.
I am so thankful.
Showing posts with label brown folks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brown folks. Show all posts
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Thursday, June 21, 2007
What Can We Do?
I notice I grind my teeth. Badly. In my sleep, when I'm tense, and especially when I'm irritated and trying to bite my tongue. I went to happy hour Tuesday night and we (myself and 4 other girls) got on the topic of educating young girls about their bodies and sex. I am all for education, seriously, I am. But then folks began to talk about how we need to teach girls that their body is a "temple" and it's "sacred" and virginity should be saved and on and on and on. I just can't get with this virtue script. I prefer terms like "informed choice" and "responsibility" and "self-empowerment." I guess all of these can co-exist, but the more we talked the less I believed it. It seemed like the old abstinence vs. protection debate, and although everyone claimed that what they were saying had nothing to do with their religious beliefs, I continue to think otherwise. What was most irritating to me was their intention to take this message to the masses of folks living in impoverished environments. All year, hearing folks talk about the communities they want to work in has made me tense. It seems like such a good idea...after all, we have race in common. But then it doesn't because it is overwhelmingly obvious that we don't share too much more than that simply because our upbringings were so vastly different. So what you have is boarding school educated brown people with ivy league degrees trying to run primary health care clinics in the middle of public housing settings. This could work. It does work. But at the same time, I think it's problematic because the differences in lifestyle is definitely noticeable. There is so much judgement that people don't even realize they are passing, and I feel it even as a college educated woman. So how must the people in these communities feel? Does this affect "compliance" to the plan of care created by the provider? In class people actually suggest things like Morning Star chicken nuggets to these families. And I'd love for someone to show a single mother with five kids how to eat organic fruits and vegetables everyday on the food budget she has. And kiss my butt organic, whole grain, and fruits and vegetables aren't more expensive than hot dogs, wonder bread, and ramen noodles. I keep saying, somebody has to tell the truth. But today I realized that they can't tell the truth I'm talking about because it isn't their truth to tell. They just don't get it. They can't get it because they haven't lived it. This was really a revelation for me because it allowed me to forgive them. You can't be mad because somebody who hasn't walked a mile in your shoes doesn't know what it's like to walk a mile in your shoes. It only makes sense that people make comments, suggestions and judgements based on their life experiences...what else can they make them with? This is why we don't simply need people of color in health care provider roles, we need people from the communities that lack these providers to actually obtain the education to be the providers in their own communities. I gave my school much credit for the diversity of our class, but I soon realized that while they picked more people who picked a colored box on the form, we are still very much lacking the economic diversity among brown folks. Most of the brown people I know at school come from an environment of privelege, even if only middle class privelege and I tell you, that makes class discussions so frustrating.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Student Group Woes
Starting a group on campus is very much like being a parent. You have these ideas about wanting to have a baby (start a group) and you look for a partner (a co-founder) who shares the same ideals. You do all the work of deciding to get pregnant, and how and where to give birth. Those are just logistics, but they matter. (You need a place and time to meet) You have values you want to instill, you know, stand up for yourself,be aware of where you come from, be cognizant of why you act the way you do. Be careful of your surroundings and those who inhabit them because wolves, too, come in sheep's clothing. You want to teach them the power of their voice,and encourage them to use it. Leadership, integrity, critical thinking. But at some point, as all parents know, you have to let them go. You lose all control over their ideas, their dreams, and their actions. You have to step back. Let them fall. And you can only hope that once they do, because they will, they will have the strength to get back up, and that they haven't made the kinds of mistakes that will make their lives much harder over the long term. So, here I am, a parent of this brown folks group, watching her children trample all over all of efforts she has made to give them a safe space to vent, to encourage, to remember who they are and where they came from - watching them learn hard lessons (and learning a few of my own) about what real leadership is, and the consequences of not stepping up to take control of your own life (and your own group). I wanted to say, you have invited a stranger to come in and tell you about yourself...but who knows you better than you know yourself except those who have been where you are standing? Is it possible to even have this conversation after I neglected to first teach you about internalized racism? How can I be disappointed that you allowed her to convince you that "race has nothing to do with it," when I did not prepare you for the possibility of such an articulate assault? Still, I give you some of the responsibility. You had the power to say "I disagree," but you didn't, and that is what bothers me most, worries me most. I'm thinking, "were you even listening when I said you have be sure of the purpose and mission of your life(the group)?" But what can I do? What can one do when their peers win the vote, when those with the least to lose, out-vote those who needed this the most? And what can I do if those who need it most don't yet realize they need it? It's like wanting poor people to vote when they don't even understand what they're voting for. All you can do is try to convince them that they need to speak up because their voices are so important, but you know that they're afraid to because they don't feel articulate enough, and, that, too, is your fault because you spent too much time teaching, talking, instead of listening as they developed the skill of speaking.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
The Meeting
Yesterday, the brown students finally had the meeting at the dean's house. It was supposed to be 1.5 hours, but it was more like 3.5! She has one of the most beautiful homes I've ever, ever seen and the spread of food was wonderful, and she is a very, very good host.
I had a goal of not complaining about anything for the entire night, and just listening, but it didn't work, mainly because I ended up semi-co-leading the meeting with dean, which is not want I wanted...but I can't say it's not what I expected, because when you put students in the room with faculty and administrators, they get nervous and they aren't as articulate as would be otherwise. Because I was the notetaker at the pre-meetings the students had to prepare for the "big meeting," there was a lot of "Can you talk about what I said at meeting last Monday about the curriculum?" And of course I would say, "You go ahead and say it!" But then they would start to stumble (which I think people should work through and keep talking because that's the only way you're going to learn), or they wouldn't speak at all. I thought it was very interesting that the dean wants everyone to "stand up, be loud, and be heard" at the school, as though she didn't recognize that students right there at the meeting couldn't manage to do that in a room full of people who were "on their side." But at least a few people spoke up. And then, because I was taking notes, the dean made me recap the first half of the meeting at the mid point, which was, seriously, like 4 pages of stuff that I did not have organized in any kind of way because they were just "my notes." But anyway, here are some positive things that came out of the meeting:
* We showed up, I mean in a critical mass kind of way!
* A student group (or 2, if we separate brown from rainbow) will be formed, separate from the administrative ad hoc committee---> and it will be funded!
* We got permission to call incoming diversity students, using the student affairs office for a call space
* We are invited to be on the curriculum planning, teaching and learning, and peer review committees (these are administrative committees that we will now take turns to attend the meetings where these issues are discussed, so that we can provide the "student perspective")
* We know what the current diversity committee is and is not, what they have and have not done, and what power they have or don't have (Can I just say that this ad hoc - there's your clue - committee is a joke?)
Some problems at the meeting:
* It was all about student responsibility...Ahem, it not only a student responsibility, but an institutional responsibility to improve the diversity issues at the school...it is not the responsibility of the students to do the job of the recruitment office and student affairs! At one point during the meeting she even suggested the students teach the faculty about diversity through giving presentations...huh? No. How about faculty take the initiative to educate themselves...and do us the favor of not spewing statistics until you do so.
* There were too many faculty/administrators, the ratio was 1:1 and they spent too much trying to tell us what they had already done, without asking us what we already knew...ie: 5 minute long ramblings about how we could volunteer at such and such clinic that they helped start, without first asking how many people already do (which was more than half the room!) It's like yes, we know about that, but one clinic doesn't negate your responsibility to not spew racist ideology from the lectern...nor does it have anything to do with what we're talking about ...we are asking for better discussion in the classroom, not a list of places to go to "get some diversity," hear me now? And they kept making suggestions for what we could do...and this is where my silent thing 1st fell through completely, because at one point I said "raise your hand if you..." and went through the list, because obviously they had underestimated how involved we've already been and the students were getting frustrated with all that "You guys can" and "You guys should" No, ma'am, we already did, so let's get to what you guys can do.
Updates from the things we criticized last semester:
* We're getting an actual Pharm professor! Imagine that, our very own full time professor of Pharm stationed right at the nursing school.
* Biomed is being completely redone. "The only thing that stays the same is the teacher." Hmph, I hate tenure.
* A new brown faculty member is coming for the fall! Doesn't that sound so ridiculous? I mean, we are so desperate, but when she said it I was really, really happy because that's how few we have...and one girl (a Latina) mentioned that all of our "diverse" faculty members are black...
* We secured a massive amount of money for scholarships...which won't trickle down to us, but hey, I'm happy for the next group.
So there it is (in as few words a s possible).
I had a goal of not complaining about anything for the entire night, and just listening, but it didn't work, mainly because I ended up semi-co-leading the meeting with dean, which is not want I wanted...but I can't say it's not what I expected, because when you put students in the room with faculty and administrators, they get nervous and they aren't as articulate as would be otherwise. Because I was the notetaker at the pre-meetings the students had to prepare for the "big meeting," there was a lot of "Can you talk about what I said at meeting last Monday about the curriculum?" And of course I would say, "You go ahead and say it!" But then they would start to stumble (which I think people should work through and keep talking because that's the only way you're going to learn), or they wouldn't speak at all. I thought it was very interesting that the dean wants everyone to "stand up, be loud, and be heard" at the school, as though she didn't recognize that students right there at the meeting couldn't manage to do that in a room full of people who were "on their side." But at least a few people spoke up. And then, because I was taking notes, the dean made me recap the first half of the meeting at the mid point, which was, seriously, like 4 pages of stuff that I did not have organized in any kind of way because they were just "my notes." But anyway, here are some positive things that came out of the meeting:
* We showed up, I mean in a critical mass kind of way!
* A student group (or 2, if we separate brown from rainbow) will be formed, separate from the administrative ad hoc committee---> and it will be funded!
* We got permission to call incoming diversity students, using the student affairs office for a call space
* We are invited to be on the curriculum planning, teaching and learning, and peer review committees (these are administrative committees that we will now take turns to attend the meetings where these issues are discussed, so that we can provide the "student perspective")
* We know what the current diversity committee is and is not, what they have and have not done, and what power they have or don't have (Can I just say that this ad hoc - there's your clue - committee is a joke?)
Some problems at the meeting:
* It was all about student responsibility...Ahem, it not only a student responsibility, but an institutional responsibility to improve the diversity issues at the school...it is not the responsibility of the students to do the job of the recruitment office and student affairs! At one point during the meeting she even suggested the students teach the faculty about diversity through giving presentations...huh? No. How about faculty take the initiative to educate themselves...and do us the favor of not spewing statistics until you do so.
* There were too many faculty/administrators, the ratio was 1:1 and they spent too much trying to tell us what they had already done, without asking us what we already knew...ie: 5 minute long ramblings about how we could volunteer at such and such clinic that they helped start, without first asking how many people already do (which was more than half the room!) It's like yes, we know about that, but one clinic doesn't negate your responsibility to not spew racist ideology from the lectern...nor does it have anything to do with what we're talking about ...we are asking for better discussion in the classroom, not a list of places to go to "get some diversity," hear me now? And they kept making suggestions for what we could do...and this is where my silent thing 1st fell through completely, because at one point I said "raise your hand if you..." and went through the list, because obviously they had underestimated how involved we've already been and the students were getting frustrated with all that "You guys can" and "You guys should" No, ma'am, we already did, so let's get to what you guys can do.
Updates from the things we criticized last semester:
* We're getting an actual Pharm professor! Imagine that, our very own full time professor of Pharm stationed right at the nursing school.
* Biomed is being completely redone. "The only thing that stays the same is the teacher." Hmph, I hate tenure.
* A new brown faculty member is coming for the fall! Doesn't that sound so ridiculous? I mean, we are so desperate, but when she said it I was really, really happy because that's how few we have...and one girl (a Latina) mentioned that all of our "diverse" faculty members are black...
* We secured a massive amount of money for scholarships...which won't trickle down to us, but hey, I'm happy for the next group.
So there it is (in as few words a s possible).
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Ramblings of the Day
|::|The Maternal Newborn exam was tough, but it was also fair. Not too many tricky questions, just an old-fashioned straight-forward, you-know-it-or-you-don't exam, and I happened to know most of it which was a really great experience and a big departure from Biomed days. My Biomed teacher actually proctored the exam, and he asked me about it afterwards...the first time I said "it wasn't too bad" but then he kept asking me about it, about "ambiguous questions" and "answers even geneticists wouldn't know" and I finally said that I actually thought it was one of the best exams I had taken since being at the school. And I meant it. I won't get the highest grade I've ever gotten on an exam because it wasn't the easiest exam I've ever taken, but it was one of the best written exams. It covered the 6 units it was over evenly according to how much material was in the unit...she put what unit each question came from, which really helps if you're one of those people who is always trying to "picture the notes" when you get stuck...and there were enough questions to miss a few and still do ok (60). Enough for me.
|::|Random side note (on the rare chance that any men read this blog): putting your hand in the small of a woman's back to escort her through a door is a little personal...I keep saying I'm going to start wearing my ring again because people look for it when they talk to you, but I don't feel like it. Just don't touch me - which shouldn't be dependent on whether I'm married or not!
|::|The brown people are having another meeting next week to collect our thoughts and get on the same page before our meeting next weekend at the Associate Dean's (our advocate) house...we had asked for the names and numbers of the incoming brown folks so we could call and give them a personal welcome, followed by individual cards signed by all of us - which we requested postage funds for (both are things that the med school does) but the Dean of Student Affairs brushed us off, so that's first on the agenda...
|::|Me and the man are in the market for a car, and it's such a headache. We were going to buy a newer (ie: 2003+) Honda (had one...loved it!) or Toyota (good car, period) so that we wouldn't have to worry so much about maintenance...but after looking at my credit report and being pleasantly surprised (up almost 150 points since this same time last year, woo hoo!) we are now leaning toward a cash purchased, 5K or so, car to get us through 1 year as we try to get the score up even higher so we can get a good interest rate on a really nice car. But of course that require some additional savings for the repairs that are sure to follow the purchase. Ugh.
|::|And lastly, I think I'm studying abroad at the end of the academic year. Oaxaca for Medical Spanish immersion for the month of August. Some women from our program have been working with a language school there for the past decade and they have the neatest opportunity: 7 hours a day of Spanish only instruction, including classroom lessons, private 1 on 1 sessions, 1 hour conversation sessions each day with people from the community AND.....drumroll...working/volunteering at the side of the lay midwives of the region as they provide midwifery care in Spanish...can we say FABULOUS? And the best part...it's cheap! Less than $1000 for the month including room, excursions, & food money. Still gotta buy your airfare though, but I'm working it out....
|::|Random side note (on the rare chance that any men read this blog): putting your hand in the small of a woman's back to escort her through a door is a little personal...I keep saying I'm going to start wearing my ring again because people look for it when they talk to you, but I don't feel like it. Just don't touch me - which shouldn't be dependent on whether I'm married or not!
|::|The brown people are having another meeting next week to collect our thoughts and get on the same page before our meeting next weekend at the Associate Dean's (our advocate) house...we had asked for the names and numbers of the incoming brown folks so we could call and give them a personal welcome, followed by individual cards signed by all of us - which we requested postage funds for (both are things that the med school does) but the Dean of Student Affairs brushed us off, so that's first on the agenda...
|::|Me and the man are in the market for a car, and it's such a headache. We were going to buy a newer (ie: 2003+) Honda (had one...loved it!) or Toyota (good car, period) so that we wouldn't have to worry so much about maintenance...but after looking at my credit report and being pleasantly surprised (up almost 150 points since this same time last year, woo hoo!) we are now leaning toward a cash purchased, 5K or so, car to get us through 1 year as we try to get the score up even higher so we can get a good interest rate on a really nice car. But of course that require some additional savings for the repairs that are sure to follow the purchase. Ugh.
|::|And lastly, I think I'm studying abroad at the end of the academic year. Oaxaca for Medical Spanish immersion for the month of August. Some women from our program have been working with a language school there for the past decade and they have the neatest opportunity: 7 hours a day of Spanish only instruction, including classroom lessons, private 1 on 1 sessions, 1 hour conversation sessions each day with people from the community AND.....drumroll...working/volunteering at the side of the lay midwives of the region as they provide midwifery care in Spanish...can we say FABULOUS? And the best part...it's cheap! Less than $1000 for the month including room, excursions, & food money. Still gotta buy your airfare though, but I'm working it out....
Monday, February 26, 2007
Biomed, In the Final Hour
The mornings of exams I used to listen to encouraging music while studying. I had my IPOD programmed to play 4 slower, encouraging Gospel songs (think, Yolanda Adams) followed by a Hip Hop anthem-style song (think "Survivor")...I actively study during the slow (20 mins) then take a break during the fast (5 mins) and keep going for about an hour or two. Well, since my IPOD was stolen last semester, I haven't been able to do this. But this morning I came to school and listened to Yahoo radio while I studied. A minute ago, a song called "The Struggle is Over" by Youth for Christ came on; there isn't a song more appropriate for how I feel this morning as I prepare to take this final BIOMED exam. I've reached that place where I can't even be anxious about it because I just want it to be over. No matter the outcome, the stress of it is now over. It's like the peace you get after making a decision.
Hearing the song was one of those "And this, too, shall pass" reminders, and we all need those.
Hearing the song was one of those "And this, too, shall pass" reminders, and we all need those.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Psych Mid-clinical Evaluation
I have a Pathophysiology exam in a week, then my Pharmacology final, Biomed final, and Psych final all in the span of two days...a hellish Monday and Tuesday.
I've started reading 72 Hour Hold because it's over 300 pages and my paper is due in three weeks, but I want to turn it in in two weeks because there's a lot going on the week it's due...
Thursday I have to present a case report on my chosen psych patient...and do a skills check off to prove I haven't forgotten the skills I learned last semester - eventhough I have.
I never talk about my psych rotation...here's the patient I'm presenting this week...which should give you some clue to what I'm going through:
In a few weeks, the day before my birthday, she will turn 36. She has five children ranging in age from 5 months to 19 years. She has a history of marijuana, alcohol and cocaine cocaine abuse, starting at age 13. She does not have custody of any of her children, they all live with her grandmother. She has been hospitalized twice for post traumatic stress disorder, depression, and substance abuse. Her mother was addicted to cocaine when the patient was born...when she gave birth to the patient, she went outside the hospital on a smoke break and never returned, and later died of AIDS. The patient supports herself via prostitution. The patient has been raped and her perp is serving time in prison. She is on our unit for a "treatment seeking" substance abuse study - a cocaine stress test. Because she is treatment seeking, they are not allowed to inject pharmaceutical grade cocaine into her veins, which makes my heart happy because there are others who are NOT "treatment-seeking" and therefore their version of the stress test is to have pharmaceutical cocaine injected intravenously to study the effects of the drug. But her study is a little different: when she came on the unit, she told (and they recorded) her worst experiences with using cocaine...now (for the study) she listens (via headphones) to these stories and they record her body movements, affect, etc.
This is why I chose her to present on:
When the patients are given a mental exam, they are asked to write a sentence. She wrote, "I am sombody productive in society." Her answer to the question "Why did you come here today?" was "I don't know who I am. I just want to know who I am." One moment in time when she was happy? "Journalism class in high school. I want to be a writer." And guess what? She can write. I also chose her because no one else is interested. Because I have been standing up for her and her experiences since I got there, because no one else will.
I had my psych mid-clinical evaluation last week. My preceptor said (after you are so wonderful, brilliant, yada yada yada) "I always give students something to improve on. I don't know what it is, but you've got it. I want to tell you that you can't take this stuff home with you, that you can't feel it the way you do because it's not healthy for you. I don't know if you can turn it off. Your heart is big. You shouldn't take all of this in. I don't know what makes you do it..." I know how it sounds cheezy, but I promise it's true.
I wanted to ask if it was really that hard to understand. All of these black patients. No black practitioners. No practitioners who come from the very environments that they criticize on a daily basis. No understanding of how much work it takes to coordinate section 8, food stamps, and utility assistance. No idea what is to stand outside in below zero windchills waiting on a public bus to come to get to those appointments. No understanding of what is to be a black girl in room full of entitled professional white people talking trash about black people and their lives...as if I'm invisible...or maybe they just don't give a damn that I'm sitting there...or maybe I've reached that "different kind of black person" status.
She's right, I'm taking it in - isn't that what we're supposed to do? Or was this supposed to be a game? A way to say "I've served the poor, the disadvantaged. See, I care." She's right, I take it home with me and digest it to the best of my ability because until I take it home and digest it - make some sense of it, I can't move on. I can't not feel it. I can't turn it off, believe me I've tried for so long.
"I don't know what makes you do it."
My heart is big. My heart is big. My heart is big.
I've started reading 72 Hour Hold because it's over 300 pages and my paper is due in three weeks, but I want to turn it in in two weeks because there's a lot going on the week it's due...
Thursday I have to present a case report on my chosen psych patient...and do a skills check off to prove I haven't forgotten the skills I learned last semester - eventhough I have.
I never talk about my psych rotation...here's the patient I'm presenting this week...which should give you some clue to what I'm going through:
In a few weeks, the day before my birthday, she will turn 36. She has five children ranging in age from 5 months to 19 years. She has a history of marijuana, alcohol and cocaine cocaine abuse, starting at age 13. She does not have custody of any of her children, they all live with her grandmother. She has been hospitalized twice for post traumatic stress disorder, depression, and substance abuse. Her mother was addicted to cocaine when the patient was born...when she gave birth to the patient, she went outside the hospital on a smoke break and never returned, and later died of AIDS. The patient supports herself via prostitution. The patient has been raped and her perp is serving time in prison. She is on our unit for a "treatment seeking" substance abuse study - a cocaine stress test. Because she is treatment seeking, they are not allowed to inject pharmaceutical grade cocaine into her veins, which makes my heart happy because there are others who are NOT "treatment-seeking" and therefore their version of the stress test is to have pharmaceutical cocaine injected intravenously to study the effects of the drug. But her study is a little different: when she came on the unit, she told (and they recorded) her worst experiences with using cocaine...now (for the study) she listens (via headphones) to these stories and they record her body movements, affect, etc.
This is why I chose her to present on:
When the patients are given a mental exam, they are asked to write a sentence. She wrote, "I am sombody productive in society." Her answer to the question "Why did you come here today?" was "I don't know who I am. I just want to know who I am." One moment in time when she was happy? "Journalism class in high school. I want to be a writer." And guess what? She can write. I also chose her because no one else is interested. Because I have been standing up for her and her experiences since I got there, because no one else will.
I had my psych mid-clinical evaluation last week. My preceptor said (after you are so wonderful, brilliant, yada yada yada) "I always give students something to improve on. I don't know what it is, but you've got it. I want to tell you that you can't take this stuff home with you, that you can't feel it the way you do because it's not healthy for you. I don't know if you can turn it off. Your heart is big. You shouldn't take all of this in. I don't know what makes you do it..." I know how it sounds cheezy, but I promise it's true.
I wanted to ask if it was really that hard to understand. All of these black patients. No black practitioners. No practitioners who come from the very environments that they criticize on a daily basis. No understanding of how much work it takes to coordinate section 8, food stamps, and utility assistance. No idea what is to stand outside in below zero windchills waiting on a public bus to come to get to those appointments. No understanding of what is to be a black girl in room full of entitled professional white people talking trash about black people and their lives...as if I'm invisible...or maybe they just don't give a damn that I'm sitting there...or maybe I've reached that "different kind of black person" status.
She's right, I'm taking it in - isn't that what we're supposed to do? Or was this supposed to be a game? A way to say "I've served the poor, the disadvantaged. See, I care." She's right, I take it home with me and digest it to the best of my ability because until I take it home and digest it - make some sense of it, I can't move on. I can't not feel it. I can't turn it off, believe me I've tried for so long.
"I don't know what makes you do it."
My heart is big. My heart is big. My heart is big.
Friday, January 19, 2007
New Applicants
New applicants to the nursing program started interviewing yesterday. Wednesday night me, M, and U, took the student M was hosting out to happy hour and gave her the low down because she had to leave the next day right after her interview and so she wasn't going to be able to go to a potluck. Then, Thursday (after my 7:30am - 4 pm clinical) I participated in the diversity session for applicants from 4-5:15 (which only had only one racial minority at it!) and then went to the potluck for new applicants at 5:30 and talked till 8. My voice hurt, my feet hurt, and I was exhausted. But I really do believe that people should know the truth about whatever program they apply to. This school is not a good fit for everybody and, just like every other institution, there are things that they claim they do, that they don't - and those are the things I want people to be aware of.
The diversity session was irritating at first because staff and faculty were present and wanted to (of course) present the school as a diverse and welcoming institution. I have no problem with this, but I do believe that the numbers should be mentioned! And I think "diversity" should be explained further, as in..."we're referring to diversity of sexual orientation rather than race." And think you can say, "our racial diversity this past year was X%, and although that's not necessarily a high percentage, it's more than last year's Y%" Those are the kinds of things I would say if I were from the diversity committee! But anyway, after they left, we had a real conversation about what the school really offers/doesn't offer and how it does or does not affect students. Basically, there is a committee, and so far I have known of one event they hosted (and it was a good event) but not much else. We also talked about the lack of conversation about diversity in the classroom and it's absence from the first-year curriculum all together. I think the student's got much more out of it after the faculty and staff left, and I think it was even more helpful because the three different students had very different experiences at the school.
I made a point of hugging and talking to the 2 black women applicants at the potluck. I don't think it was something many people noticed (I simply hugged them and said "special welcome, nice to see you" in their ear while I did it) and they were grateful. There were two other current students who are black women there, but one did not speak and the other did, but passes so it was lost on them. The first one said "I'm glad you came over" and the other said "it's nice to be seen." One of my friends who did see it all questioned me about it. At the time I just said "because" and smiled. I didn't feel like explaining. But now I do:
I don't think people get how isolated one can feel, even in a room full of people. You're standing there with your gold and tattoos, in urban hip hop wear, with a body frame that takes up a different kind of space than anyone else (woman number 1) or you have a great big afro with hoop earrings and are openly lesbian (woman 2) and you're nervous as hell. You gotta get over so many extra anxieties before the interview even starts! No matter how confident you were before you got off the plane and arrived at the school for your interview, when you step into the room this sea of whiteness blinds you until you see at least one person who looks like you, and when you find her you only hope she's as happy to see you as you are to see her! I recognized it in our new applicants, and I was proud to see that they found each other.
I'm so happy that I decided to go, despite my exhaustion.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Psych Clinical Orientation
I oriented to my new Psych clinical rotation on Friday. I wondered why my clinical group only had 3 people in it, including myself. (That's less than half the normal size of a group) Turns out my placement is on a very small unit - only about 8 patients - inpatient, locked unit. The patients have severe OCD, Schizophrenia, and substance addictions. The best thing about our unit is that it's a research unit, which means that the patients are inpatient voluntarily and that they get paid to participate. The worst is that facility is state funded, which we all know means that they're broke. The facilty has inpatient, outpatient, and walk-up services.
I was the first one there for the orientation and had to sit in the lobby by myself for 30 minutes because everyone else was late. It was...interesting. Many, many black folks, and consequently many, many young men trying to "get to know me." I met two black men who rapped out loud to themselves the whole time. They weren't paying any attention to me, but I was listening to them. I have always been fascinated by what I presume to be a very thin line between psychosis and sanity. Everything they said made sense, and that was my worse fear for this rotation. What does it mean if psychotic people make perfectly good sense to me? There was a lot of conspiracy theory in their rhymes, but I believe in a few so-called conspiracy theories myself. I'm not saying that I can't recognize the difference between me, a non-psychotic person, and them. However, I think we have gravely underestimated the psychological trauma related to racism in this country and so I can't help but wonder how many of these people used to be just fine (or borderline, like we all are) and then they just snapped under the reality of this life?
Our professor gave an example of an African American married man who had to work two full time jobs to make ends meet for his family; one day he woke up and decided that he just couldn't do it anymore and he went into a severely depressive & suicidal state and had to be instituionalized. I must say I CAN imagine. The goal is to get the person to remove their stressor, to put things into perspective, to change. How do you tell someone not to work as much? Are you going to supplement his income? How does a person without very many marketable skills find a job that pays so well that he will be able to work one job? If he could find it, wouldn't he already have it? Who chooses to work two full time jobs for their entire life? The point is, what if the event that leads to psychosis is just life. What if you are being crushed under the weight of a circumstance that isn't going to change?
There were many other examples, and a good friend of mine asked about the intersection of race and mental health. (We're getting much better at taking turns!) The professor referred anyone who was interested to the works of another person. Now, I am all for providing students with the resources that allow them to investigate something for themselves, but why is it that the impact of race on the psyche is not also a topic that up for discussion in the classroom? If we aren't going to discuss it, then what is the relevance of including the race of the person in the case study examples? And I find it wholly inappropriate to spout statistics that help to set up the minority/unhealthy vs. non-minority/healthy/normal dichotomy without dicussing race at all.
I realize I'm ranting at 2 am Eastern and no one's listening. But the other day I realized that I pay over $1,000 PER WEEK to this place! I refuse to pay AND be invisible. We are reading a novel for this course in order to write a paper on mental health. We write all about the character's mental disease, so it's stuff like The Bell Jar (Plath)(deals with depression) and She's Come Undone (Lamb)(deals with Obesity, PTSD, and depression). I submitted a proposal to read a novel by a black woman because I have reached the point where I refuse to pay and not get what I want. I learned this from my colleagues. These people are vicious climbers, demanders of what they came for - and the only way to not fall victim to getting what's left over because they didn't want it, is to be right there fighting for what you want. It's the game in every sense of the word. I chose 72 Hour Hold by Bebe Moore Campbell (Bipolar mania). What does this have to do with the whole "grad school is a game" theory? It occured to me that the only reason they get what they want is because they have the audacity to demand it.
I was the first one there for the orientation and had to sit in the lobby by myself for 30 minutes because everyone else was late. It was...interesting. Many, many black folks, and consequently many, many young men trying to "get to know me." I met two black men who rapped out loud to themselves the whole time. They weren't paying any attention to me, but I was listening to them. I have always been fascinated by what I presume to be a very thin line between psychosis and sanity. Everything they said made sense, and that was my worse fear for this rotation. What does it mean if psychotic people make perfectly good sense to me? There was a lot of conspiracy theory in their rhymes, but I believe in a few so-called conspiracy theories myself. I'm not saying that I can't recognize the difference between me, a non-psychotic person, and them. However, I think we have gravely underestimated the psychological trauma related to racism in this country and so I can't help but wonder how many of these people used to be just fine (or borderline, like we all are) and then they just snapped under the reality of this life?
Our professor gave an example of an African American married man who had to work two full time jobs to make ends meet for his family; one day he woke up and decided that he just couldn't do it anymore and he went into a severely depressive & suicidal state and had to be instituionalized. I must say I CAN imagine. The goal is to get the person to remove their stressor, to put things into perspective, to change. How do you tell someone not to work as much? Are you going to supplement his income? How does a person without very many marketable skills find a job that pays so well that he will be able to work one job? If he could find it, wouldn't he already have it? Who chooses to work two full time jobs for their entire life? The point is, what if the event that leads to psychosis is just life. What if you are being crushed under the weight of a circumstance that isn't going to change?
There were many other examples, and a good friend of mine asked about the intersection of race and mental health. (We're getting much better at taking turns!) The professor referred anyone who was interested to the works of another person. Now, I am all for providing students with the resources that allow them to investigate something for themselves, but why is it that the impact of race on the psyche is not also a topic that up for discussion in the classroom? If we aren't going to discuss it, then what is the relevance of including the race of the person in the case study examples? And I find it wholly inappropriate to spout statistics that help to set up the minority/unhealthy vs. non-minority/healthy/normal dichotomy without dicussing race at all.
I realize I'm ranting at 2 am Eastern and no one's listening. But the other day I realized that I pay over $1,000 PER WEEK to this place! I refuse to pay AND be invisible. We are reading a novel for this course in order to write a paper on mental health. We write all about the character's mental disease, so it's stuff like The Bell Jar (Plath)(deals with depression) and She's Come Undone (Lamb)(deals with Obesity, PTSD, and depression). I submitted a proposal to read a novel by a black woman because I have reached the point where I refuse to pay and not get what I want. I learned this from my colleagues. These people are vicious climbers, demanders of what they came for - and the only way to not fall victim to getting what's left over because they didn't want it, is to be right there fighting for what you want. It's the game in every sense of the word. I chose 72 Hour Hold by Bebe Moore Campbell (Bipolar mania). What does this have to do with the whole "grad school is a game" theory? It occured to me that the only reason they get what they want is because they have the audacity to demand it.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Odds and Ends 2 (or Three)
I spent the weekend tending to myself as much as possible (outside of a test review session on Saturday, studying for a couple hours each day, and a million freaking flashcards).
Friday, I skipped happy hour and went to a film festival at a museum to see a documentary. It was an excellent film about a family trying to move out of some housing projects into their own home. It really was excellent. It made me think about the mentality of poverty and how if you're only used to people taking advantage of you, how will you ever trust anyone enough to allow them to do something really positive for you, like help you buy a home. You're always looking for the catch. And usually there is one, but not always. It made me wonder how come more programs like the one featured in the film (home-ownership programs) were not being utilized if they cost less than public housing to run. In the back of mind I hear "conspiracy," but I am trying to not see it that way because that leaves a sinking hole in my stomach and that's the last kind of feeling I want to deal with right now. It's one of those "call to action" type things, and I just cannot be called to any other actions outside of nursing school right now!
I also finished last season's Desperate Housewives so that I was all caught up for last night's episode, and watched one of my new favs, "Brothers and Sisters." I should take a minute to talk about my disgust at the images of black men on Desperate Housewives last season, but I don't have the energy.
I also had a very interesting conversation with someone about judgement this weekend. Ever since I got here and have been vocal about not liking a local specialty food mart (ie; organic, health mart) people have taken that as license to discuss what they perceive my eating habits to be. This ticks me off beyond belief. So now it's all about Kool-Aid jokes (one of the items I mentioned I couldn't get at said specialty mart) and how me and my husband are gonna die of diabetes (a recent lecture was on diabetes and DKA) NO KIDDING, someone actually said this to me. Needless to say, I went off. I had been keeping my mouth shut because I didn't want to be defensive about it, but once you think you can tell me when and how me and my husband are going to die, all bets are off. So, I got on my soapbox. Is this how you're going to talk to your patients? If so, say goodbye to continuity of care because I guarantee you they aren't coming back to your office. How do you know what my health outcome is before you've even asked ONE question? How do you know that my Kool-Aid isn't sweetened with Equal or Splenda? How do you know that 2 quarts lasts me a week and a half? We have to be very careful about making a diagnosis about someone just by looking at them! "Well, it's also genetic, so since you're dad has it, so will you." Careful, careful, I do believe that in order for me to aquire a disease *genetically* I must be *genetically* related to the person...I am not *genetically* related to my "dad" (because he's my stepdad) and if you had of taken the time to ASK me ONE question, you might have known that, and thereby been able to keep from putting your foot in your mouth! So, that's what the hell I'm dealing with in my classmates.
Like I've said a million times, I miss fat people. Brown people. Poor people. I hope they all contract Ecoli from their lettuce and spinanch. LOL Nah, I'm just kidding, but I do hope they learn to be less judgemental...
Friday, I skipped happy hour and went to a film festival at a museum to see a documentary. It was an excellent film about a family trying to move out of some housing projects into their own home. It really was excellent. It made me think about the mentality of poverty and how if you're only used to people taking advantage of you, how will you ever trust anyone enough to allow them to do something really positive for you, like help you buy a home. You're always looking for the catch. And usually there is one, but not always. It made me wonder how come more programs like the one featured in the film (home-ownership programs) were not being utilized if they cost less than public housing to run. In the back of mind I hear "conspiracy," but I am trying to not see it that way because that leaves a sinking hole in my stomach and that's the last kind of feeling I want to deal with right now. It's one of those "call to action" type things, and I just cannot be called to any other actions outside of nursing school right now!
I also finished last season's Desperate Housewives so that I was all caught up for last night's episode, and watched one of my new favs, "Brothers and Sisters." I should take a minute to talk about my disgust at the images of black men on Desperate Housewives last season, but I don't have the energy.
I also had a very interesting conversation with someone about judgement this weekend. Ever since I got here and have been vocal about not liking a local specialty food mart (ie; organic, health mart) people have taken that as license to discuss what they perceive my eating habits to be. This ticks me off beyond belief. So now it's all about Kool-Aid jokes (one of the items I mentioned I couldn't get at said specialty mart) and how me and my husband are gonna die of diabetes (a recent lecture was on diabetes and DKA) NO KIDDING, someone actually said this to me. Needless to say, I went off. I had been keeping my mouth shut because I didn't want to be defensive about it, but once you think you can tell me when and how me and my husband are going to die, all bets are off. So, I got on my soapbox. Is this how you're going to talk to your patients? If so, say goodbye to continuity of care because I guarantee you they aren't coming back to your office. How do you know what my health outcome is before you've even asked ONE question? How do you know that my Kool-Aid isn't sweetened with Equal or Splenda? How do you know that 2 quarts lasts me a week and a half? We have to be very careful about making a diagnosis about someone just by looking at them! "Well, it's also genetic, so since you're dad has it, so will you." Careful, careful, I do believe that in order for me to aquire a disease *genetically* I must be *genetically* related to the person...I am not *genetically* related to my "dad" (because he's my stepdad) and if you had of taken the time to ASK me ONE question, you might have known that, and thereby been able to keep from putting your foot in your mouth! So, that's what the hell I'm dealing with in my classmates.
Like I've said a million times, I miss fat people. Brown people. Poor people. I hope they all contract Ecoli from their lettuce and spinanch. LOL Nah, I'm just kidding, but I do hope they learn to be less judgemental...
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Vacationing in St. Louis
I spent a week in St. Louis for vacation, dishing it up with cousins who are like sisters to me. This photo, however, is an imposter! I didn't take any pictures over the week. We did attempt to go to the top of the arch, but we never made it up because the lines were too long. But I did touch it, if that means anything. LOL. I had a great time doing everything and nothing all at the same time. Lots of drinking and lots of riding around seeing the sites (happy hour was a staple of our diet!) We also went to Union Station, which I thought was beautiful - especially when compared to East St. Louis...
My cousins live in the burbs, as they are well-educated, young folks who have had their fill of the hoodlife - especially since they're raising children. But they took me to the east side and, like all other similar hoods in our country, it was unbelievably discouraging. Pointing out the clinics, dead hospitals, and Planned Parenthood's along the way (because that's my thing - and theirs too) it was hard to keep in mind that the buildings I saw were actually functioning dwellings. Don't get me wrong, I've seen it before...Chicago and DC come to mind...but the bars, the trash, and the neglect never become normal. It always catches you off guard, like "where are we?" even if only 1 second later you remember that you are in the United States of America. It forced me to reevaluate my coping mechanisms. I have been thinking about/writing about how I will cope with continually being in the position of helping people in the most impoverished parts of our country without losing my joy, when each and everyone one of them will remind me of myself. There is some joy in the helping, but there is also pain and the pain is what kept us from staying too long in that part of town, and why the car gets quiet when we pass through row after row of the 'jects. It is because we all know that but by the grace of God we were granted the state of mind to climb out of, or alltogether avoid, the mentality of powerlessness and victimization that was constantly forced down our throats.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Billie Holiday: Screaming the Blues
If there were only one image to describe how I feel, this would be the one.
Lately, I have been trying to figure out how I got here. Here being my life as it stands in this moment. There is a constant pull to be both where I came from and where I'm going. I don't think I can exist in both of the worlds simultaneously. Someone or something will have to give. Up until now I have prided myself on my abilty to slip between the worlds of urban ghetto and academia almost effortlessly, but it's begininning to take a lot more effort. No longer a matter of McMillan vs. Morrison or Black English vs. Standard, my growing inabilty to function in both worlds threatens to negatively impact my marriage and extended familial relationships. Knowing, growing, and living within my urban ghetto birth environment is very important to me. I would even come very close to proclaiming that it is more important to me than academia. I also want very much to stay in touch with this reality, my reality, so that I can better serve those who I intend to serve. But, of course, I also am determined to go places, talk to people, and have experiences that will allow me to give those that I serve the absolute best there is to give. I feel like I am being stretched more than ever. I guess the only reason I'm screaming is because I refuse to give in to one place or the other, one mindset or the other. It'd be so much easier to choose one lifestyle and call it a day. But if I choose academia, there goes my life as I knew it - and loved it. And if I choose urban ghetto, there goes most of my hopes and dreams. Therefore, neither are a option. The only option is to make them coexist.
I just hope I can hold on a lil' while longer so that everything will be alright.
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