The Duality of Healthcare, 25 Years of Beauty & Pain
Hi Friend! I’m here unexpectedly, I’m supposed to be packing for my vacation. My daughter would light me up if she knew that the suitcase in the corner of my room was empty. We are heading abroad to celebrate her birthday :) If I wait until I return to write this, I might lose the courage. This is a topic I wanted to touch on with my last blog, but I felt so uncomfortable bringing it up, it stirs many emotions inside of me.
I wanted to share a moment that happened less than a few hours ago. I was on a morning virtual meeting with NYCDA (New York Coalition for Doula Access), listening to all the amazing work that birthworkers are doing across New York State. It hurt my heart, really bad, to hear that BIPOC birthworkers are experiencing racism. We always explore safeguards we can implement to keep BIPOC birthworkers protected from that. The level of racism they’re experiencing is insane. As a child, I watched my mom go through what doulas are currently experiencing. It’s wild that we even need to carve out time to put initiatives together to really remind adults how to behave like, well, adults. New York doulas are experiencing racism. Doulas across the United States & internationally are also experiencing it, it’s exhausting.
Now, I was sitting there during the NYCDA meeting like a proud big sister, giving my birthworkers their well-earned flowers. Minding my own business, friend. I came off mute to share my gratitude for all their hard work & started crying. Bruuuuuh (I’m sorry but my son has me speaking in bruh, now) why did my tear ducts decide this would be the right time to bawl? In front of 39 other people. 39 other people!! I wanted to hit that leave meeting button so bad.
I started to cry after I shared a little about my story. I proudly boast that I’m 25 years deep in the healthcare system game. I’m not bragging, I’m proud of myself, it took a lot of dedication, commitment & sacrifice to stand here before you, today. I can be mean to myself, I rarely express pride in my accomplishments, but that has changed more recently. I am an expert, people feel comfortable working with me because my level of expertise is up there. It took time to build all of this luscious goodness, time away from the family I created. It feels strange even admitting that. Despite that, I have continued to be disrespected in certain spaces.
As much as I love my career, I should also recognize that I am angry & hurt to have witnessed 25 years of racism, systemic bias & the neglect of BIPOC patients & professionals within the healthcare system. Years marked by the dismissal of pain, cultural incompetence, medical gaslighting & rigid policies that reinforce health disparities. Being constantly told that I need to work 100x harder than the average to be seen as a human being worth being valued. I’ve seen tokenism passed off as inclusion, disinvestment in our communities & the silencing of our voices in rooms where HUGE decisions are made. I mentioned in my last blog that these systems aren’t broken, they were built this way, every barrier, every inequity, has cost lives. That’s where the healthcare system had me all the way messed up, we don’t play like that over here, partner.
Hearing others share the same stories, decades later, hurts. During the meeting, my mind involuntarily flashed back to years ago, when I was rushed to the ER during a shift at work after a patient punched me repeatedly & strangled me, enraged he was assigned a black nurse. I made it through the crack era to get tag teamed at work? After years & years of rallying in the stuffy rooms of Albany, protesting, speaking up at many tables, enduring great stress, it hurts to know that I have to hand this world over to my children. I already have. Myself & my nurses fought so hard so the generations behind us would have a better system in place. Some days it feels like we lost the battle. I can’t explain the level of pain that causes for me.
I live in Staten Island (hey fam!), I haven’t shared this before, but the people out here were trying me something awful. As I share this, I am not directing this to all Staten Islanders, there are way more good Staten Islanders out there than bad. For the good ones, please cover your eyes. Actually, don’t cover them, please partake in this one story of many, friend. When I stepped into birthwork, doulas from other boroughs warned me about SI. One said my business wouldn’t last a year out here. I thought my biggest issue living out here was being chased by turkeys. I didn’t believe it then & that’s definitely not the case, but my goodness I’ve gone through some stuff.
One sunny & splendid day, during my second year of birthwork, I hopped on a virtual doula consultation with a couple. Beautiful couple, expecting their first baby, Staten Islanders since birth. Before the consultation, they contacted me by phone gushing about how wonderful I was, they even had me convinced lol. They wanted to move into contract signing without “officially” meeting first, but I encouraged them to meet with me virtually. When they entered the Zoom call, I could see their faces fall, I didn’t think much of it, until they started grilling me. I don’t mind anyone asking questions, but this felt strange. They wanted a copy of my nursing license to verify I was even a nurse. They were both hitting me with questions so quickly, I swore I had bench warrants out there somewhere. Are these the Feds? What’s going on right now?! They shared that they didn’t know I was black after visiting my website directly & researching about me. Yes, I am black, that much is true. I’m Bajan & Irish, to be specific. They expressed that they didn’t see me as qualified to be a doula. The husband said the only way he’d be comfortable working with me was if I supported them for free. They felt I could use the experience supporting birth anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal. By that time, I supported 50+ births, they knew that. They requested a free-ninety-nine contract to be emailed to them. I politely shared the names of other doulas with them & ended the meeting. Don’t worry, I gave the doulas a heads up.
After the consultation, I really sat & wondered what was wrong with me. What am I doing that’s giving people this vibe? Pleasing people often reigned supreme for me. I looked over my business, trying to find something to fix. I had to stop myself from moving into that space.
There are more stories, but I really don’t like that I even need to touch on these topics here, on my website page, my safe fun place that I love to visit, but it would be a sin to not share that your people are out here peopling & it needs to stop. Please tell them to stop.
Lastly, people are fighting to end DEI (Diversity, Equity & Inclusion) programs. Amazing programs that benefit our families & the professionals that care for us. I owe my entry into the field of nursing to the DEI programs created by Health Resources and Services Administration (HRSA). DEI programs are often criticized in the college admissions world, yet the practice of parents paying private high schools to inflate their children’s grades for Ivy League acceptance rarely sparks the same level of constant scrutiny or outrage. Go figure.
For all of our families, we work hard behind the scenes to make things better. Policy changes, new initiatives that are working, it’s beautiful. To me, it’s proof that change is possible. That’s all we’re asking for, close the gaps in healthcare so every family & every child has a fair chance. This is their life. We want them to be healthy, happy & thriving. We carry our families in our hearts long after the work ends, they are our why.
We don’t want our families, or our babies, carrying the weight of the world’s cruelty on their shoulders for another second, another day, or another generation.
For birthworkers, we love you down. Not the raggedy doulas, y’all need to go on a sabbatical or something. But for the ones making change, silently trudging through real heartbreak & devastation but have the courage to continue to show up. We see you. You are heard, we will always stand ten toes down for you. Birthworkers of all colors & backgrounds have stood up for us. I can’t thank you enough.
For my BIPOC birthworkers & families. I am truly sorry that the world can be so hurtful. You deserve immense wealth, safety, joy & rest without having to fight for it every step of the way. You do not need to sacrifice the most precious parts of you to do this work. I hope you always feel the love, community & ancestors uplifting you & carrying you forward. Our ancestors built the very foundation of birthwork, it’s time to recognize that we are more powerful & expansive than the world could ever imagine. Stand on that. We’re doing away with struggling & sacrificing in order to be seen. I’m calling that for all of us. We are not handing that “tradition” down to our babies, to the unborn members of our lineage. We are not genetically handing down our stress & pain to the people we love.
For myself, I used to give disrespectful people something they could feel. I’d stop to check them without losing my cool. I bottled up my feelings over the years. I was quiet. I was well-behaved. Now I am tired. I think it’s okay to recognize that 25 years of beauty can also be shadowed by the same amount of pain & both truths deserve space. That’s something new for me, I guess I buried my experiences so deep in the closet that I forgot they were there. My tears felt cleansing in a way. I’m angry that I cried after getting my lashes done, but I will live :)
I have earned my spot here, it feels so good to say that. I hope you know you have earned yours too. I have nothing to prove. For the people that see me, there will always be space here for you. For the people that don’t, we are just not a good fit for each other & that is ok. And no, you cannot have a vial of my blood to prove my worth. I have to draw the line somewhere.
Special thanks to the birthworkers that touched base with me after the meeting. The outpouring of love is felt & so needed. I appreciate your energy in this space.
I truly appreciate your presence, your open mind & your ongoing support.
Always remain empowered,
Anjanette