Thoughts for LGBTQ Folks Currently in Russia/Sochi

Thoughts for LGBTQ Folks Currently in Russia/Sochi

As the Winter 2014 Winter Olympics commence in a matter of hours, it’s an important time to think about human rights not just in our country, but in others. In Russia, LGBTQ people are beaten, criminalized, and murdered for being who they are.

My heart goes out to the many Russian citizens dealing with this human rights violation, as well as the international LGBTQ athletes who must not only deal with the pressure of the competition, but also worry about their personal safety.

I hope that we will look back on this time and see what a dark era we are living in – not only for matters of sexuality, but for all of the hatred and persecution that is occurring on a global scale.

“The practice of sport is a human right. Every individual must have the possibility of practicing sport, without discrimination of any kind and in the Olympic spirit, which requires mutual understanding with a spirit of friendship, solidarity and fair play.” –Olympic Charter

Photo from: http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/c8/71/3f/c8713f168f2def96897dea761c51c353.jpg

Coming out stories: The importance of bias recognition and active listening

Introduction

Coming out “of the closet” can be a defining moment for a gay individual. It can be invigorating, empowering, terrifying, dangerous, and evoke many emotions for anyone involved in the process. The definition of coming out, however, is not as simple as one may believe. In the anthology Boys Like Us: Gay Writers Tell Their Coming Out Stories, almost every writer gives a unique meaning of what coming out meant for him, and sometimes how it continues to impact his life. While their experiences were all interesting and provided many lenses in which gay identity could be appreciated under, as a human I found that some stories were more interesting to me than others. I was able to place myself into some writers’ situations, almost imagining that it was me living their experiences, while others’ stories seemed redundant and not as enlightening, as if I was merely an outside observer. Reflecting upon this dynamic, I realized that both writing style and the context of the authors’ experiences determined how easily I could relate to them, and in turn how compelling I found their stories to be.

Writers who were much more active in their writing, including explicit scenes from their lives instead of focusing on emotions and thoughts, were those who I tended to find more invigorating. While all of the stories were obviously lived experiences, some authors seemed to have written them in much more “real” styles. The use of profanity, the inclusion of very erotic sexual encounters, and an overall “tell it like it is” spirited style of writing led to a much more interesting and relatable experience while reading. How does this relate to health care and my goal of equitable care for all people? Listening to how people tell their story, regardless of their background or your own, is a skill that many need to improve on. It was apparent by examining my preferences that I paid better attention to people I can relate to or those whose stories I find intriguing, entertaining, or personally moving. While learning about what it means to actually come out, I believe the realization that I need to constantly be cognizant of and improve how I listen to others is the lesson learned from this experience.

The many definitions and explanations of coming out

In our society today, coming out (of the closet) predominantly means being open about your sexual minority status and membership in the LGBT community. This could be to one or more family members or friends, or even complete strangers. In the 1950s, however, Samuel Delany believed that coming out meant having your first sexually major homosexual experience. He writes “And what you came out into, of course, was homosexual society… Now coming out had become something entirely aimed at straights” (Merla). Ron Caldwell was never sure what being “out” actually meant. “I have no earthy idea what it means to be completely out, out of the closet… it seemed to me I didn’t really have to come out at all, that somehow my mere aspect conveyed to the world that I was gay” (Merla).

There are many nuances between the stories told in this anthology, with only a very few showcased previously. It is very evident that coming out means something different to almost everyone who goes through the experience. For some it is a rite of passage, for others a way to reveal a secret they may have been hiding for a long time, and for others it is a form of systematic oppression forced upon them by our very heteronormative society. Some people in the anthology came out to a single person at a time – close friends or family members – while others made the transition to out for the world to observe. The important aspect to be cognizant of when listening to or reading these stories is that this is a very unique process for each individual and should be treated as such. Once again the concept of equity applies over equality. It is important to realize the differences that make each individual’s story unique and think about how that has affected their experiences in life and the state of life they are currently in.

Parents as an example

Coming out to one’s parent(s) can be one of the most difficult processes of coming out in general. The fear of familial rejection causes many individuals to be hesitant. The quality of a parent’s listening as well as their reaction can define how well the experience transpires. Some parents are not as skilled at this as others, which is unfortunate.

Rodney Christopher came out to his father during a conversation which started with his father asking Christopher, “What’s wrong with you?” (Merla). He told his father that he was gay in a very roundabout fashion, but it was clear. Christopher recalls, “He looked disgusted with me… Dad asked my mom and sister to join us in the living room for a ‘family meeting’” (Merla). The meeting consisted of his father barraging him with inappropriate and hurtful questions about why he wound want to be gay, and never allowing his son to tell his story. Christopher’s sister finally gave him salvation and his father concluded the meeting. Not surprisingly, the father-son relationship was irreparably destroyed. Would this coming out story have been more positive if the father had been a better listener, or was he simply set in his ways of homophobia? I cannot accurately speculate, but I would like to think that a higher quality of listening would at least have allowed Christopher to feel heard, maybe not understood, but heard and appreciated.

Some parents, such as Ron Caldwell’s, were excellent listeners and his coming out to them ended up being a positive experience. “Nowadays, if my mother calls after a guy has stayed the night, I’ll roll over, pick up the phone, and tell her, with a giggle, what we’ve been doing – in general terms.” he writes (Merla). “She seems genuinely glad to know that I’m not keeping anything important from her” (Merla). Caldwell came out to his father later, but had a neutral to positive experience; “… he said it didn’t matter, that he’d thought or a long time that I might be gay, and just wanted me to be happy” (Merla). His father asked him questions and related to him based on his past experiences with having homosexual friends.   The common link between this family was good listening, allowing Caldwell to tell his story, and asking him questions about it to better comprehend his experiences. This is a simply model that can be transcribed into almost any type of active listening process: listen, allow the storyteller to share their journey, and question them (positively, of course) to get a better understanding of their experiences.

Narrative Storytelling in Medicine

It is not surprising that I found certain stories to be more personable and interesting than others, but the reflection on how this affects the way in which people tell stories, and more importantly how people listen to them, was the true lesson learned from reading Boys like Us. When applying this to the health professions, Carmen Green’s work to promote storytelling in medicine, allowing patients to tell their story without interruptions to simply “get to the point” (Green) to save a health care practitioner’s time, comes to reference. Green states, “We empathize more with people who are like us, and are more comfortable hearing their stories, rather than those who are not like us. As simplistic as it sounds, we are also more likely to provide better care for people that we can better relate to or we like. Without the patient telling their story, the listener has no context for what the illness means to the patient” (Green).

Conclusion

We all have personal biases based on our lived experiences that lead us to react uniquely to different situations. These biases can affect how effectively we listen when someone tells a story – whether it be their coming out story or their medical history, in the case of a patient. While some stories may seem more fun, interesting, and/or relatable than others, each person has their own experiences to share. It is important to remain conscious of our biases when listening to someone’s story so that one can effectively listen to their narrative. This involves taking extra time and effort, whether it be adapting to a new style of storytelling you have never heard before, or listening to someone’s experiences which you have had no previous exposure to. How we listen to an individual’s story can affect how it is perceived and what actions are subsequently taken. As medicine continues its evolution, Dr. Green points out that while medical students are currently rewarded for obtaining “pertinent and concrete” patient information in short periods of time, the true emphasis should be placed on taking the time to listen to everyone’s story, to let them guide the journey (Green). In the population I intend to study, many of these journeys will involve a coming out story, and it will be important to remember the individuality of expression that is a part of coming out. Everyone is the guide on their journey of life, and hopefully the medical field as well as I will become better listeners to all storytellers, no matter what their story may be or how they may tell it.

 Works Referenced

Green, CR  Listening: Can storytelling transform health care to enhance quality and ensure equity? Ann Arbor: University of Michigan; 2013.

Merla, Patrick. Boys Like Us : Gay Writers Tell Their Coming out Stories. 1st ed. New York: Avon Books, 1996. Print.

Fun Home: My First Experience with a Graphic Novel

Fun Home: My First Experience with a Graphic Novel

 

Preface: This essay contains my personal opinions of this memoir based on the experiences I have lived and thoughts I currently hold. This is in no way meant to negate any of Alison Bechdel — the author’s — experiences, but instead to show how they have impacted me.

 

I found Fun Home – A Family Tragicomic to be an interesting and tragic memoir, but I definitely missed any or all parts of this book that were comical. I do not know the intentions of the author, Alison Bechdel, but I did not gain the experiences that I had expected from reading this memoir. I did not enjoy this book for many reasons, but the most important reason which stands out to me is that the author made her father seem to be a horrible person when I strongly believe that he was just unhappy because of his semi-closeted sexuality. I also realized that I appreciate more narration in a memoir, which this story lacked as it was a graphic novel comprising of much dialogue. I believe this is why some people may enjoy this book and other graphic novels – they do not want all of the narration and instead appreciate the directness that the author provides here. There were some positive aspects of the book, the most influential to me being the story of this family itself and the journey taken by the author. While I may think that I did not acquire a lot of knowledge from the content of this book, its purpose may have actually been to make me learn about myself.

From the beginning of the story, the author makes her father out to seem as if he is a cold, unloving person who deals with his family only because he feels obligated to. She describes a scene around Christmastime: “Sometimes, when things were going well, I think my father actually enjoyed having a family. Or at least, the air of authenticity we lent to his exhibit” (Bechdel). This may very well be true and the author most certainly knew her father better than I, but she seems to be very critical of him. To give some backstory, the author is a lesbian and her father enjoyed the company of other men. He died unexpectedly in what many believe to have been a suicide.  From reading the story I believe he was bisexual, but this is open to a lot of speculation. Alison finds out her father’s sexual secret as she is going through her self-discovery of her sexual identity. She never cuts him any slack, however, for being a sexual minority man trying to live the life of a heterosexual. I feel as if they both would have been more open with each other, their relationship would have been much stronger and they could have learned much more from each other. The connection was just waiting to be forged, but neither of them seemed to want to make it until the very end.

It is no surprise that the author and her father were not jumping at the opportunity to share their non-heterosexual sexual orientations to each other. The story takes place in a time where lesbians like Bechdel were thrown out of bars and had to find sanctuary with other queer folk as she describes in the novel. Not being heterosexual was still a clandestine characteristic that someone may take to their grave, as the author’s father (Bruce) did. There is one short night near the end of Alison’s father’s short life where the two talk about their sexual identities. The scene is as awkward as one can expect from a queer father-daughter duo talking about this for the first time. Bruce tells his daughter about his first experiences with other males, but Alison does not get a chance to talk about her experiences. Another night Bruce takes Alison to a gay bar, but is denied entry as she is not over the age of twenty-one.  I think this was their closest encounter with a more-than-surface-deep moment. Unfortunately Bruce died soon after this night and the two of them could never cultivate this shared commonality.

Alison ends the book by stating “But in the trick reverse narration that impels our entwines stories, he was there to catch me when I leapt” (Bechdel). This one sentence made me reflect on the entirety of the memoir. Alison seemed to have resented her father throughout the whole story, but on the last page it seems that she believes that he truly was there for her, especially in her “leap” into her lesbian identity. This is why I appreciate this story and Alison’s journey so much; while her father was alive it may have seemed that she resented him, but after his death she truly realized how much of a positive impact he had on her. This is a valuable lesson for anyone, in my opinion. We take for granted those around us, but when they are gone we realize how important they were and how much they educated us. I wish Alison would have expanded on this sentence, as I feel that my thoughts on her intentions are very speculative and not driven by factual evidence. This was a feeling that I encountered throughout the memoir. 

I wanted more from the author in terms of narration and emotion. While I think that she is a reserved person who does not show a tremendous amount of emotion, I feel as though it would have helped me to connect and enjoy the story more if I could have better understood how she was feeling throughout. This is the main discovery that has led me to believe that I do not like graphic novels as memoirs, and instead prefer the traditional style of story-telling. I enjoy the author being able to tell me how they felt explicitly, and not having to try to abstract it from dialogue and thought bubbles. After reading reviews that described the book as “bleakly hilarious” I was expecting to get some good laughs out of the story. I did not laugh once, and this led me to wonder why. The reason I came up with is because I felt so terrible for the father in this story that I could not get past thinking about his horrible, closeted life for long enough to enjoy any of the humorous aspects of the story. This is definitely a factor of me and not of the author, and I think that my focus on social justice has led me to behave in this way. While usually under the assumption that there is a problem that needs to be addressed, I think I sometimes neglect the surrounding factors. In this case I was so focused on the sexual minority status of Alison and her father that I was unable to effectively learn from her experiences.

Fun Home made it to the New York Times’ Bestsellers List (New York Times, 2006), so someone obviously must have liked it better than I did. Why is that? I think the main reason is that most people did not open the book with any intentions on what would be found inside. I did. I was intent on learning how a sexual minority father would impact the life of his family, in particular his lesbian daughter. Most people probably would not enter the journey with those clear expectations, and in turn would probably be more likely to enjoy the book and its humor. The story is also somewhat risqué and has many intimate scenes, between Alison and her female lovers and Bruce and his male companions, some of them being very scandalous. As many people know – sex sells – and this story has plenty of sexual content and even nudity. Upon reading all of this one would probably think that I hated the story told in this memoir. In reality, the story was very interesting to me and I think that it would be interesting to anyone interested in the LGB community. In many ways it is a coming out story, but more so a coming to terms story. I think the many risqué elements of the novel, its perceived humor by the general population, and the content of the story itself are what made it successful. Most people would find it to be enjoyable.

While this may not be the most enlightening or enjoyable book I have ever read, I have come to appreciate what Fun Home has taught me. Sometimes it is necessary to take a step back, take off my social justice “hat”, and just listen to someone’s experiences with an open mind. I think that this memoir would have been much more enjoyable — although I am still unsure of how comical it really is — if I would have been able to read it without trying to focus on how social identities affected the characters. This is something I have never realized about myself until writing this essay, and is what I believe to be the greatest tool this experience has made me more cognizant of.

 

Works Referenced

Bechdel, Alison. Fun Home : A Family Tragicomic. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2006. Print.

“Hardcover Nonfiction”. The New York Times. July 16, 2006. Retrieved July 19, 2013. http://www.nytimes.com/2006/07/09/books/bestseller/0709besthardnonfiction.html?ex=1155096000&en=aaca93d5bcae9024&ei=5070&_r=0

If you don’t like (INSERT OPPRESSED POPULATION HERE) get out of medicine, because this is where it is: A reflection on Borrowed Time: An AIDS Memoir

“I don’t know if I will live to finish this” (Monette). This is the first line in Paul Monette’s memoir, Borrowed Time: An AIDS Memoir. If someone asked me what HIV and AIDS were a month ago, my answer would have been relatively straightforward. HIV stands for the Human Immunodeficiency Virus, a retrovirus that eventually progresses to AIDS. The virus integrates itself into a person’s DNA, and once it has invaded, it is there to stay. Risk factors include unprotected sex, sharing intravenous needles, and any other blood or sexual fluid transfer. Young gay men who have sex with men are at increased risk, followed by intravenous drug users. AIDS is an acronym for Acquired Immunodeficiency Syndrome, a disease that is characterized by an extremely weakened immune system and chronic wasting of the patient. The disease is treatable if you have the money to afford antiretroviral therapy drugs, but as of now there is no cure. That is what first came to mind when I think of HIV/AIDS before I read Paul Monette’s memoir.

Borrowed Time is not the typical book one would read to learn about HIV/AIDS, but I feel that it has taught me more than any textbook on the subject could ever teach. To attain some background on this book, the memoir chronicles the adult life of Paul and his long-time partner, Roger. They seem like a normal gay couple living in California; a writer (Paul) and a lawyer (Roger). They have a dog, many friends, and a supportive set of older family members. However when Roger was diagnosed with AIDS, their white, upper-middle class privilege seemed almost insignificant compared to the stigma that they now faced due to being a gay couple with AIDS. Paul also eventually was diagnosed with the disease, however he focuses the story on Roger’s battle. While reading this story, themes became apparent, and the dots between real life, research, and practical application seemed to start connecting themselves in my mind.

“I wish my fellow warriors hadn’t lost the first four or five years bogged down by homophobia and denial” (Monette).

I will be honest in saying that before I read this book, I had only scraped the surface of the political and bureaucratic scene around the beginning of the AIDS outbreak. I think, however, that Paul educated me better than any medical history textbook could have. Paul did not get extremely analytical about the political climate surrounding AIDS at this time, but his subtle comments were enough to see how conditions were. “… the closeted gay man at the National Institutes of Health who buried the AIDS data for two years, that’s when I understand how doomed we were before we ever knew” (Monette). There are many instanced in this memoir when Paul reflects back with a very “what if” mentality. Paul found that the Western Blot test had been in place and antivirals available, but the information was either kept from the general public or they just did not find out about it until too late.

The systematic oppression is clear by these passages as well as others from this memoir. One of the most important questions in feminist analysis is “Who is being left out?” It is clear that at this time, the people being left out were the people slowly suffering and dying from a disease that could have been managed much better if more effort and resources would have been allocated to it. The answer to this is clear – the LGBT community needs more advocates to promote their equality both in the health care field as well as in general society. Fortunately, the National Institutes of Health (NIH) may have just recently taken a step to become an advocate for the LGBT community. On June 27, 2013 the NIH launched a Request for Information which invites “comments and suggestions” on the many health and health research issues and concerns for members of the LGBT and intersex populations. It is not disputed that the LGBT community has been left out of many aspects of medical research as there is simply very little funding for it, but this progressive step by the NIH may help to prevent future incidences of disconnect as described by Paul.

On the bus

“It’s a curious phenomenon among gay middle-class men that anything faintly venereal had better be taken to a doctor who’s ‘on the bus.’” Paul frequently used the phrase “on the bus” to describe someone who was also gay like himself. “Is it a sense of fellow feeling perhaps, or a way of avoiding embarrassment? Do we really believe that only a doctor who’s our kind can heal us…” (Monette). At first it seemed like a colloquial phrase that was part of the gay community at this time’s language. As the phrase continued to surface throughout different parts of the book, a connection was made. Many of these people that Paul was describing as “on the bus” were health care professionals. From doctors to nurses, there were gay people as well as family and friends of gay people working on almost every aspect of Roger’s treatment. Interestingly, these men and women were the ones that Paul describes as the most influential to Roger’s spirit and also his health.

Conversely, the heterosexual doctors were some of the least caring, with exceptions of course. Paul recalled a time when he went to his doctor to get sleeping pills, and told the doctor about Roger’s AIDS status. “What do I do?” he asked. The doctor’s response: “He shrugged his shoulders with a cavalier unconcern I can only attribute to his certainty that he was safe himself. I’ve seen that straight man’s shrug a hundred times. ‘Burn the blankets,’ he replied facetiously” (Monette). The heterosexual privilege that this man possessed is clearly enough that he does not even want to think about AIDS, because as Paul states, he believes he is safe from it. Do heterosexual people in general still have this attitude today? I would hope that the problem is not as dreadful today as in the time of Paul and Roger, but many straight people still do not realize how their privilege affects both themselves and those who have less privilege in today’s heteronormative society.

How does this connect to today’s world? Many people think that the societal oppression which comes with identifying as LGBT is not important when it comes to health care seeking behaviors. The University of California at San Francisco has done something revolutionary to encourage members of the LGBT community to feel safe on their campus and access health care at their facilities: they have created an ‘Out List.’ This list contains hundreds of names of faculty members, students, residents, staff, alumni/ae and others associated with UCSF that identify as LGBT. In addition some members are denoted with a + next to their name. These people are bravely telling the world that they are HIV positive. I have always thought that this was a revolutionary idea to create safety and community between members of the LGBT population. It is not surprising that the UCSF Medical Center has earned a perfect score for health care equality for the past six years. I would like to think that Paul and Roger would have been very happy with this Out List.

“AIDS was for losers. Too much sleaze, too many late nights, very non-Westside” (Monette)

“I saw a split develop in gay men around that time, as people fled into themselves,” Paul recalled. “I watched AIDS become gossip, glib and dismissive, smutty, infantile” (Monette). Roger could not tell his clients that he had AIDS, as the stigma was so great at the time that he would have lost his practice as a lawyer. As if the stigma from being gay at the time was not enough… Finally the Reagan administration was going to do something about this problem, but only because “the disease was a threat to ‘the general population’” (Monette). This is to suggest that the gay men, who at this time in the mid-1980s constituted the vast majority of AIDS cases, were not a part of the general public, nor were they validated enough themselves to warrant something being done about this severe problem. It was then that the straight people could be at risk that the government stepped in, if one could call it stepping in.

Unsung the noblest deed will die- Pindar, Fragment 12 (In the preface of Borrowed Time)

After Roger died, Paul lived to finish this story and died years later from AIDS –related complications. Being able to appreciate the personal aspect of AIDS is something that I would have never been able to do without reading this memoir. I always used to think of AIDS (and really any disease) as a pathological occurrence that somehow damages the body’s physiology, in this case eventually causing death. While this physiological knowledge is important, I feel that my new appreciation for the personal aspect of this disease, the relationships damaged, the friends lost, the struggle to fight and live in a society that sees you as a second-class citizen, is a viewpoint that many people do not have the opportunity experience. Although this was obviously a second-hand experience for me, I can see the change in how I think. As I was thinking about how this memoir related to the research I aspire to complete, I found that I was not thinking in terms of statistical design or quantitative analysis, but rather in a mindset focused on how these issues affect people on a personal level instead of a population level. How do a patient’s sexual orientation and their health care provider’s sexual orientation interact? How can we as a society make our population less homophobic and more accepting so that people do not hide data in the future and so that those in the LGBT population like Paul feel like they can see a health care provider without extreme fear for their safety? The answers may not be currently apparent, but I believe that we are moving in the right direction.

I believe that one of Roger’s IV nurses had one of the best quotes in this memoir: “If you don’t like AIDS get out of medicine, because this is where it is” (Monette). Now take out the word AIDS and insert gay people, insert Black people, insert physically disabled people. One goes into medicine to heal all people, in my humble opinion. I challenge others and myself to remember that medicine is diverse, and we choose to go into this field because we truly care about the health of all individuals, no matter that their identities may be.

Works Referenced

Monette, Paul. Borrowed Time : An Aids Memoir. 1st ed. San Diego: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1988. Print.

Equality, Equity, Shoes, and Health Care

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Equality for all is not my ultimate goal for our health care system. You’re probably wondering what the hell I am talking about right now, but let me explain. 

What I want for our health care system is equity. What does that mean? Let’s look to an analogy first given to me by a great friend and social justice advocate, Noel Gordon. Of course, this was a while ago, so I may put a little twist on it, but the point should be the same.

In an equal world, equality is giving all the barefoot people in the world a pair of shoes. The White people, the Black people, the Asian people, the men, the women, the children, the teenagers, the adults, the elderly, everyone- all get a pair of shoes from some company. Sounds great, right? That company just eradicated the problem of bare-footedness. Well, unfortunately, equality means that all of these people get the same size shoe, because that is the equal way to distribute them.  For some people, the pair of shoes fit, but for many, they are still left with no shoes.

Now let’s look to what equity means.

In an equitable world, a representative from the company goes around and measures (or at least asks) everyone’s shoe size. Then this person reports back to the company, orders the appropriate amount of each respectable size, and delivers them to the people. Now everyone has a pair of shoes, but more importantly, those shoes were customized to fit a specific person.

Differencebetween.net has a great quote on the difference between these two very similar-looking words: “When we say equity, we refer to the qualities of justness, fairness, impartiality and even handedness. When we talk about equality, we are talking about equal sharing and exact division.”

So how does this relate to health care?

If health care providers (HCPs) gave equal care to everyone, I believe that the system would fail. Maybe not critically fail, but it would be far from perfect. We are not all the same, we are not robots or cars, and doctors should not use a check-box system to deal with our ailments. We all have a unique background, whether it may stem from our race/ethnicity, our gender, our sexual orientation, or any other identity we may possess. We should be treated in an equitable manner that takes into account the person we are, not just the shell of a body we live in.

Why isn’t this system in place now? It takes extra time, resources, and compassion; 3 areas in which the health care system is pretty consistently losing ground. The amount of time that doctors have per patient is going down, resources are being conserved as the government is sequestering money away from the health systems while the price of medical technology is still sky high, and as a result of all of this, and in my personal experience, doctors simply don’t have the time to be compassionate to all of their patients. They don’t have time to ‘measure their feet’ to refer back to the previous analogy. And what it leads to is a system where equality still does not even exist, let alone equity among and between certain groups.

How do we fix this? To be honest, I don’t know the mechanism. I am not in the shoes of the HCP yet, and I have little experience on the front lines of health care. What I know that we (future HCPs) can do is learn about different social groups- what are the unique health care needs of African Americans? Members of the LGBT+ community? Other marginalized groups? I will tell you that these groups have special needs that HCPs should consider if their goal is to provide comprehensive and quality care.

Educate yourself. Take a class on health care disparities or cultural competency, talk to your friends with different identities than you, talk to an HCP about their experiences serving diverse populations. These conversations and experiences will mean more in terms of achieving your future goals than biochemistry, physics, and genetics combined. Even the Medical College Admissions Test (MCAT) is starting to realize this, and their test is changing to follow suit.

Of course I may be acting naïve in assuming that your goals are similar to mine- that everyone should have access to a health care system that cares about them as an individual person, not as a member of some predetermined group. Call me a dreamer, but I think that we are about to train a new generation of HCPs who are much more appreciative and understanding of the diversity in the world.

Do I think this process will be easy? Hell no, it’s going to be one of the hardest paradigm shifts that health care has ever seen. But as the Chinese philosopher Lao-tzu once wrote, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step”.

Take the first step. Remember to measure their feet. Give them the right size shoe.

Looking toward the future, 

Adam

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Top photo from: www.boardworld.com.au

Bottom photo from: http://www.ford.ie

Baggage: Not the Kind you Bring on an Airplane- the Kind You Bring Everywhere You Are

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My Spring Break from the University of Michigan was pretty calm. I stayed down here in Ann Arbor to catch up on my research projects at the hospital and to enjoy the company of the handful of friends that stayed down here as well. The break was much needed relaxation, but of course I was able to learn a few lessons.

This lesson came to me on my birthday, March 6th.

It was a pretty average Wednesday; I started off the day going on NICU rounds for a job interview and then I went to my Urology office to work. One of my friends took me out to lunch that day, which is always great. It was a pretty normal lunch, and somehow we got to talking about my future research in health disparities in the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender communities. This is a conversation that I have with a lot of people since I am so nerdy and interested in the topic, but it had never ignited as much personal interest as it did with my friend that day. She looked at me and I could tell that she was a little off-kilter about something.

After we had talked about this subject for a little while, she told me that she has known me for quite some time now, and had something she had to tell me. I instantly knew what was on her mind, and she didn’t even need to say it. Literally, she never said any words when she came out to me as being gay.

My first thought was “holy shit!” I was flabbergasted and speechless for a few seconds. It wasn’t because I was mad or upset, but because I’ve known her for a while and would never have guessed that she had this baggage to deal with- on top of a lot of other personal issues in her life right now. She has known this about herself for over 10 years, and is just finally feeling safe enough to tell people. The fact that it took her this long to tell me made me realize how much stress people in the LGBT community must be in when trying to discover, and then share their identities.

So you’re probably wondering what my philosophical revelation for the day was.

I don’t think the following details of our conversation are extremely important, but I want to share the lesson that I learned on my birthday.

People have baggage. No matter how well we think we know someone, we will never know all of their life experiences and all of the shit they have had to go through or are currently going through. To combat this lack of knowledge, we must be open, accepting, and there for people. You never know what a mean word might do to a person whose baggage currently has them depressed or suicidal.

I recently had to help run a meeting in my residence hall to deal with the use of sexist and homophobic language being used in our hall, which is not tolerable. The words ‘faggot’ ‘queer’ and ‘gay’ were thrown around by these freshmen boys like monkeys fling their shit. And they both have about the same effect on others in the community. Watch your language; you never know how your words will hit someone. Be inclusive and inviting to those around you. You don’t have to agree with people’s sexual choices, but you do have to respect these people for who they are. Imagine yourself in their shoes, having to tell your family and friends a secret that has gotten people disowned by their families, or even killed, in the past. And then imagine the emotional baggage that those people are dealing with. How does that make you feel? That’s how these people feel every day.

So to recap:

Everyone has baggage.

You don’t know everyone’s life.

So-

Be nice.

To everyone.

All the time.

You never know how your positivity might help someone who just needs someone to be there. It’s a skill we all need to work on, and hopefully you can see from my experience that this kind of stuff happens in real life and truly does matter.

Peace and love.

Adam 

 

*Photo from Issues in your Tissues