Black Exhaustion: Perspectives From Black Surgeons in Training

[Views expressed in this opinion article are those of the authors and do not necessarily represent those of their employer or General Surgery News.]

By Wilson Alobuia, MD, Auriel August, MD, and Kirbi Yelorda, MD

This is not new. It was 2012 when Trayvon Martin was gunned down by a white vigilante; nearly a decade later, what has changed? The current outrage over the senseless slaughter of black men and women is long overdue.

Many of you find discomfort in the unjust treatment of the black community, so you reach out to your black friends, colleagues, loved ones and genuinely ask, “How are you doing?” To put it simply, we are not OK. The centuries of generational trauma that we carry are being brought to the surface and laid bare for the world to witness—and even worse, justify. Current events remind us that we cannot rely on our education or profession to protect us.

The reality is that many of us cannot accurately express what we feel, let alone what we need from you. How do you express feeling devalued because of your skin color to a work colleague? How do you explain fearing for your life when you see red and blue flashing lights in your rearview mirror? How do you ask that the country you live in recognizes that the value of a black life is equal to that of a white one?

Heartbreak does not even begin to cover it.

While we are encouraged by your desire to do something, we are hurting, and words cannot heal that pain. Amidst the psychological anguish, frustration and distrust that we feel, the best and only form of support is action. So, the next time you are compelled to ask your black medical student, resident, fellow, friend or colleague how they are doing or how you can help, please consider doing the following instead.

From left: Dr. Yelorda, Dr. August, Dr. Alobuia

Talk the Talk
Speak out against the injustices endured by those in the black community. Post publicly on social media platforms. Speak out whenever and wherever you can: during department meetings, at grand rounds, in the OR, on rounds, in patient rooms and with your loved ones. Wherever you have a voice, use it. We understand there is fear around saying the wrong thing, but that is not an excuse for inaction. When you voice your support of black people, it proves to us and the world that you truly know what it means to be an ally. The phrases “Black Lives Matter,” “black people” and “police brutality” carry significant weight and convey the gravity of the discussions at hand. Skirting around these words fails to convey the reality of what is happening and negates the power of your voice and ally-ship.

Walk the Walk
Donate, march if you are able-bodied, write to your senators, email your congressmen and congresswomen. Volunteer to help register people to vote. Use your strengths and resources to protect and uplift the black community. Integral to this is the understanding that none of us are free until all of us are. Reform can only happen if it is done unanimously.

Look Inward
If you are feeling grief, rage, guilt and helplessness, please recognize that these feelings are valid, appropriate and necessary to facilitate activism and change. They are an important reminder that systemic racism and this attack on the black community are not aligned with your own values and beliefs. If these conversations are making you uncomfortable, ask yourself why that is. If you find yourself shying away from saying too much or wanting to “go about your regular life,” consider how you would feel if your family members were being targeted and your “friends” blatantly ignored it. 

We all look back and wonder how people could have turned a blind eye to the Holocaust or to the civil rights movement. Choosing to ignore our public outcry is a commitment to repeating history. Have the courage to have hard conversations with yourself and your family. In medicine, we pride ourselves on being lifelong learners. Take the time to educate yourself on this topic. This important step can be initiated with something as simple as watching a documentary on racial injustice as a family. As part of these conversations, consider ways in which you and your loved ones have benefited from systemic racism. You have the power to ensure that your sons, daughters and grandchildren do not perpetuate the harmful, hateful and disgraceful foundations on which this country was built.

Lastly, we need you to give us time to heal. In order to curb stereotypes and preconceived notions that society has long held regarding the black community, many of us find ourselves going above and beyond, in order to be perceived as professional, competent, reliable and even worthy of our positions. We need space to be human, to grieve, to be off our game. So be particularly gracious in this difficult season. Many are hurting, and yet continue to contribute our best to the care of our patients. Should you find that a black colleague/trainee is particularly quiet, needs to step out of rounds, or appears to be having a bad day, please be compassionate. Our people are dying.

“A single candle can both define and defy the darkness.”
—Anne Frank

With love,
—Drs. Alobuia, August, and Yelorda are general surgery residents at Stanford Medicine, in Stanford, Calif.