Opinion: A patient called me a racial slur. Unfortunately, my experience is universal.

Share

Explore Our Galleries

A man stands in front of the Djingareyber mosque on February 4, 2016 in Timbuktu, central Mali. 
Mali's fabled city of Timbuktu on February 4 celebrated the recovery of its historic mausoleums, destroyed during an Islamist takeover of northern Mali in 2012 and rebuilt thanks to UN cultural agency UNESCO.
TO GO WITH AFP STORY BY SEBASTIEN RIEUSSEC / AFP / SÉBASTIEN RIEUSSEC
African Peoples Before Captivity
Shackles from Slave Ship Henrietta Marie
Kidnapped: The Middle Passage
Enslaved family picking cotton
Nearly Three Centuries Of Enslavement
Image of the first black members of Congress
Reconstruction: A Brief Glimpse of Freedom
The Lynching of Laura Nelson_May_1911 200x200
One Hundred Years of Jim Crow
Civil Rights protest in Alabama
I Am Somebody! The Struggle for Justice
Black Lives Matter movement
NOW: Free At Last?
#15-Beitler photo best TF reduced size
Memorial to the Victims of Lynching
hands raised black background
The Freedom-Lovers’ Roll Call Wall
Frozen custard in Milwaukee's Bronzeville
Special Exhibits
Dr. James Cameron
Portraiture of Resistance

Breaking News!

Today's news and culture by Black and other reporters in the Black and mainstream media.

Ways to Support ABHM?

By Amanda Joy Calhoun, Boston Globe

Racism from patients is a violent rite of passage for Black doctors. So are the excuses and dismissals from White colleagues.

Amanda Joy Calhoun speaks at a Black Lives Matter protest of medical professionals. (AHMET ESAT IMAL, MD.)

About a year ago, a patient called me a “nigger” for the first time.

I was working an extra weekend shift as the only doctor on-call. It was a sunny day in New England, and seemingly calm. Until it wasn’t.

“Code gray. Code gray,” announced the neutral voice through the hospital speakers. “Code gray” signified a behavioral emergency. A patient was at imminent risk of harming themselves or others. Or already had. My work phone rang. “Dr. Calhoun, we need you in the adolescent unit,” a nurse said. I was already on my way.

The patient was a red-headed teenager. For several weeks he’d exhibited severe behavioral problems during his hospitalization. He’d just broken a window with his fist because playground time was over and he did not want to come back inside. A crowd of mental health staff, including psychiatric nurses and mental health techs, gathered around him. They took turns attempting to de-escalate the patient as he hurled out insults and curse words in return.

I approached him, smiling: “Hello, I’m Dr. Calhoun—”

“Get away from me, you nigger,” he hissed, nursing his bloody wrist.

The all-White staff, who moments before had been firm about setting behavioral limits with the patient, were silent. I held my ground, and my deep brown eyes met his bright green ones. “I will not tolerate racism in this unit, and I expect an apology,” I said, resolutely. I continued to care for the patient, but I felt demeaned in a way that curse words and rude language — both common in hospitals — had never accomplished.

Read more about the prevalence and impacts of racism in American medicine.

In her piece, Dr. Calhoun mentions “weathering,” the accumulation of stress from exposure to racism.

Get more Black culture news here.

Comments Are Welcome

Note: We moderate submissions in order to create a space for meaningful dialogue, a space where museum visitors – adults and youth –– can exchange informed, thoughtful, and relevant comments that add value to our exhibits.

Racial slurs, personal attacks, obscenity, profanity, and SHOUTING do not meet the above standard. Such comments are posted in the exhibit Hateful Speech. Commercial promotions, impersonations, and incoherent comments likewise fail to meet our goals, so will not be posted. Submissions longer than 120 words will be shortened.

See our full Comments Policy here.

Leave a Comment