photo by UofL photographer Susan Sawning
(continued from page 31)
have events focused on the needs of the Louisville community
and part of that will be going out and seeing
what the community needs are.
LM: What role do medical professionals play in the
search for racial equality?
TC: I feel like our role is equal to everyone else. When
we have more racism in our everyday lives, it effects how
we care for the people we serve. Especially when you’re
working at a place like UofL Health - UofL Hospital with
so many diverse patients, you have to take back those
lenses and remove those stereotypes, because if not, you
can hurt a lot of people. If we did that more often, the
health care disparity piece of it would be improved. But
we can’t put that all on health care professionals. Access
to health care is a big issue. I know almost every doctor
I work with, if we could give our services for free to
everyone, we would.
We also have to educate at a level where people are able
to understand it, so that when we are giving advice,
they know where it’s coming from. Especially with the
African American community, who have been burned
by the health care institution, they’re a little bit hesitant
to listen to their doctors. Educating them, giving them
resources, time to think about things and not writing
them off if they don’t take their health care advice seriously
the first time. We can’t give up on them. We play
a major role, but our role is just as important as any
provider or any American. If we all did this, we wouldn’t
have the racial wars that we’re having today in 2020.
Our job is to recognize our biases like everyone else and
not just recognize it, but correct it so that it doesn’t hurt
someone. So that we don’t lose that trust. So that we don’t
lose that relationship with that patient.
DOCTORS' LOUNGE
Dr. Tawana Coates is a third-year resident in the Department of Obstetrics,
Gynecology & Women’s Health at the University of Louisville.
WHITE COATS FOR BLACK LIVES AUTHOR Terri Mason, MD
On December 10, 2014,
a small collective of
University of Louisville
medical and
dental students acted
in solidarity for
the “White Coats for
Black Lives” movement
by holding a “die-in,” at the
Health Science Center (HSC) campus. At the time,
the nation was up in arms after the fatal shooting of
18-year-old Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri. Approximately
50 students and only one faculty member
participated in the event. The message that it sent, I
recall, was not well-received. Some complained about
the event being promoted over the listserv. Flyers posted
for the event began disappearing. Tension was high. In
an effort to continue the conversation, an additional
event was held at the HSC to discuss race following the
protests. Though that seemed to be a “safe space” for
dialogue, I left feeling frustrated and uneasy.
Following the “die-in,” many of us also participated
in a candlelight vigil in downtown Louisville followed by
a Black Lives Matter protest at the Middletown holiday
festival. I wasn’t prepared for the hostility we had to face.
As I stood holding a sign, White churchgoers yelled in
my face things like, “Get a job!” and “Get off welfare!” I
was seen as a poor, jobless Black woman invading their
space, not as a medical student. It felt like they saw us
only as hindering and disrupting their holiday cheer.
The truth is, racism never takes a holiday. Many have
lost loved ones and lives have been decimated due to
systemic racism. The pain, anger, and dismay from that
experience will linger for the duration of my lifetime.
Almost six years later, overwhelmed by pain and
anger, I cried watching the video of George Floyd taking
his last breaths. For eight minutes and 46 seconds, a
police officer knelt on his neck. And almost immediately
after this video was shared everywhere, outrage swept
the nation. A few days after the recent 2020 protests
began, Dr. Tawana Coates texted me about her department
wanting to participate in the “#WhiteCoatsFor-
BlackLives” (WCFBL) event being held at institutions
across the nation. She asked for my help in spreading
the word and determining other departments’ desire
to participate in such an event. Her text was welcome
and brought me a sense of relief.
As Shenequa Golding has been quoted as saying,
“Your Black employees are exhausted. Scared. Crying
in between meetings. Putting on a performance.
Mentally checking out.” Struggling with the factual
evidence that Black people are disproportionally affected
by COVID-19, watching the news into the late-night
hours, praying others would not die attempting to have
their voices heard: these endless, painful worries are
consuming much of my life. Walking around the hospital
daily, it is hard to move forward with a “business
as usual” attitude, given so much despair and suffering
throughout our nation.
(continued on page 34)
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