I hesitated posting this particular piece of writing in fear of people misunderstanding me and taking offense. However, to me… this is worth it-whatever ensues.
In order to obtain my nursing degree there is a required community health rotation. These clinicals take place at homeless shelters, addiction rehab centers, inner city medical clinics and even inside a small RV providing care to the homeless in a parking lot.
Today I was slated to venture to another inner city clinic in downtown Indianapolis. The previous two clinical assignments before this one were incredibly different from one another and so I tried to expect the unexpected for today’s assignment as well. The unexpected is exactly what I encountered.
After arriving and speaking to the site manager I was paired with the lab technician, Renee*. Upon entering her space I could almost see on her face the disgruntled feelings of having to take on a student. She told me where I could post up for the day and what her general duties entailed. The first hour or so in a new clinical setting is always a little awkward. As the student, you have intruded on someone’s personal space and generally speaking, screwed up their workday groove. Initially, she and I engaged in the niceties of personal introductions, medical titles and future occupational desires.
When the first patient came in to have their blood drawn she immediately (and quietly) asked if I was interested in trying. Of course I agreed as I operate under the “the more practice, the better” mantra. While obtaining the blood sample the older gentleman patient made some ….ahem… “interesting” remarks to me. Renee and I looked at one another and did our best to contain our laughter and remain professional. After the patient left the lab and was safely in the lobby, Renee and I exploded into laughter -Phew- the ice had been broken between the two of us and a day-long inside joke had been created.
As the day went on we continued to laugh about a great many things. We talked about and demonstrated how we walked in heels during the first five minutes after putting them on as well as how we looked after wearing them for the remaining 4 hours of the night…one word-raggedy. She told me about her siblings and nieces/nephews. I showed her pictures of my three adorable savages. Because we were semi-isolated in the lab, the environment was ripe for conversation in the interim between patients.
I recounted to her the experience I had the day before at a different clinic… In the middle of the day I needed to go out to my car to get some chapstick (’cause my lips hurt real bad’). Being the extremely warm-blooded ice queen that I am I went out in the 30 degree weather without so much as a coat or even jacket, just my scrubs. As I passed through the lobby a guy said to the relative/friend next to him, “Dante, see I done told ’bout dem crazay white folk goin outside wit no coats on”. I glanced in their direction and replied, “Sho nuff” and smiled kindly, instigating looks of complete disbelief from my onlookers.
Right after I finished the story I became extremely nervous. You see, Renee is a black woman…and after doing my best ebonics impression I was unsure as to what her reaction would be. She had only known me for a few hours and did not know that there truly is not a racist bone in my body. Did she think I was being insensitive? trying too hard? out of line? A myriad of thoughts were racing through my mind as I looked up to see her face. She began wheeze-laughing… you know the kind… where you can’t hardly get an adequate breath between laughing fits and are reduced to wheezing… After catching her breath she commented, “You do that pretty well”. I almost melted onto the floor from sheer relief I had not offended her. I replied that I grew up in Cincinnati, love black stand-up comedy and channel my inner “Madea” as often as acceptable. She remarked that she had noticed earlier that I seemed exceedingly comfortable in the clinic despite being entirely surrounded by a black staff-from doctors to receptionists. I responded that is was probably because I WAS comfortable.
I told her of my affinity for cultures different from my own. She became unnervingly quiet for a moment, deep in thought. When she looked back in my direction, she asked if it would be alright if she demonstrated her best stereotypical-white girl impression. Ummm… of COURSE! She proceeded to walk back and forth across the lab floor speaking in an excessively over-articulated manner about pumpkin spice lattes, pinterest postings, her wine affinity and her most recent trip to Target for black yoga pants, punctuated by occasional “OMG(s)”.
I LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF IT!!!!
After her remarkable performance she excitedly said,”ok, ok. Now you… you do your best impression…if you want”. The stage was set and I was more than ready. I utilized a few extraneous and exaggerated eye rolls and arm gestures talking about grape drank and fried chicken while tapping my weave and saying, “O Lort, dis weave right hurre is a furreal mess”. Her wheeze-laughter could only be interrupted by a patient coming in for a urine dip.
The rest of the day proceeded as normal, performing blood draws, urine testing and the like. However, we laughed with one another throughout the afternoon, talking about different white and black stereotypes; which ones are accurate and which ones “need to go”. Renee, her niece, who also worked at the clinic, and I all went to pick up lunch at Shrimp Hut. Upon returning, they asked how much my meal was because it seemed higher than what they paid for the same meal. I told them the price and they looked at me quizzically. I quickly told them I also purchased a drink, which accounted for the higher cost. Her neice smiled and said, “Dang gurl, I thought maybe it was cause you white”. She quickly looked at her aunt, nervously. I lightly slammed my fist on the table and said, “I knew it!” When Renee and I began to laugh, she joined in.
At this point (or maybe far before this) you have begun to wonder my intention in writing this post. You may assume it is to present the typical “people are people, there are no differences between us” spiel. But I don’t think that is entirely true. There ARE certain cultural differences that become apparent when comparing black and white people, differences I have always celebrated and enjoyed. There is an increased amount of tension as of late in regards to racial relations. But I remember in high school and in college when my black girlfriends and I would openly cut up with one another without the lingering fear of saying “the wrong thing”. We knew each other’s hearts and accepted one another as “sisters from another mister”. I never pretended to act as if our friendship somehow allowed me to truly know what it was like to be black.
I never will.
I’ll never forget Taneka showing me how to properly itch my scalp via soft tapping as to not mess up my ponytail. I’ll always remember my fourth grade birthday party when Kristian displayed her superior dance moves in our dance-off and admiring just how beautiful she was. I can still see Cinnamon and I in gym class loosing our minds when her weave randomly came off during a basketball game, causing me to throw my cheerleading curly hair piece to the floor as well, confirming our solidarity and ridiculousness. I remember Ireka and Chonda trying to teach my roommates and I various dance moves (it was a struggle) and introducing us to the glorious world of Tyler Perry.
I miss those days.
But today I began thinking about how incredibly thankful I am for the strong, intelligent, beautiful black women that have befriended me throughout my lifetime. I’m thankful they chose to see beyond my stereotypical white girl facade, let me be me and encouraged questions about black culture that I was curious about and in return asking me “Why do white girls always be……(fill in the blank)?”
Today was reminiscent of those days. So my dear Renee, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for reminding me those days are still possible in this crazy world and I look forward to potentially working with you some day and laughing til we almost pee…again.
*names have been changed to protect personal privacy
Photo Credit: atlantablackstar.com
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