Doctors of all Colors

Recently, a kind soul on Instagram recommended that I read “Small Great Things” by Jodi Piccoult (a great book – highly recommend!), and the book got me thinking about the topic of race in the hospital. Without giving too much away, this fiction novel tells the story of an African American labor and delivery nurse, her Caucasian female lawyer, and a white supremacist family (the nurse’s patients). Each chapter is written from one of the character’s point of view, and as you can imagine, the chapters written from the white supremacist’s point of view were uncomfortable to read. The story, which is being developed into a movie with Viola Davis and Julia Roberts, was extremely thought provoking, exploring issues of not only race but also socioeconomic class, family ties, and gender. After I finished the book I felt it was important to share my and my colleagues’ experiences with race in the hospital (#doctorsofallcolors), to highlight that these issues still exist and to show others that they are not facing it alone.

I am a petite Asian American woman. I’m not threatening to anyone, and no one has ever refused care from me because of my race. That does not mean that I have not been made aware of my race throughout my training though.

My last name used to be “Ho” and you can imagine the number of laughs I received when I introduced myself as “Dr. Ho.” One of my patients during medical school insisted on calling me “Tally-ho” every time he saw me; he was also the same one who called me a Chinese princess and tried to set me up with his 50 year old Asian cardiologist (“The tallest Chinaman I’ve ever seen!” he explained). Then when I got married and became Dr. Park, I received a few comments like “Oh, thank God you have a nice American name” or “Well, that name is easy to pronounce, not like those other Asian names.”

In medical school and residency I was asked countless times “Where are you from?” and when I said “California,” that was never a satisfying answer. I would explain that my parents were originally from Taiwan. I assumed that the patients were trying to find a way to connect with me, because they may know someone Taiwanese or they may have spent time in Asia. I didn’t feel like they were trying to make me an outsider. Then a few would press on to try to figure out when I moved to the States and if I had actually trained in the US. I’d end up explaining that I was born in California and trained in California and list all the places I studied and trained. I thought this was a normal conversation until I shared this exchange with some of my Caucasian colleagues, and they said they rarely talked about topics like that. I realized that while some patients were genuinely interested in my story, a few were probably trying to discern whether or not I was qualified enough to treat them.

It wasn’t always the patients who made me aware of my race and the stereotypes that come with being Asian American. I remember measuring the size of a harmless lesion on a patient’s back, and when I was off by 1 mm, I was told (in front of the patient) “You’re wrong. Aren’t you Asians supposed to be good with numbers?” I felt my cheeks redden with embarrassment, but I didn’t know how to respond in that moment. I also didn’t know how to respond when a non-Asian medical school friend commented, “It’s a good thing you’re Chinese. Other Asians have such ugly flat noses.”

I was very fortunate to train in extremely diverse and accepting places, the Bay Area and New York City. I was also fortunate that my experiences with racial stereotypes in the hospital setting did not impede me from doing my job. But that is not the case for several of my coworkers who are minorities. I’ve seen and heard the difficulties many of my minority colleagues encounter when they are trying to deliver good patient care, all because of their race. So what can I as one physician do? Firstly, I think it’s important to recognize that racial stereotyping, racial bias, and flat out racism all can exist in the hospital. It doesn’t matter how well educated or highly trained we are. We have to acknowledge the problem to start addressing it. Secondly, when I encounter a situation in which anyone is making racially charged statements about myself or another coworker, I should call it out. No more sweeping it under the rug, making excuses, and dancing around the issue gingerly. If it becomes a situation that I can no longer handle, then I will have to escalate it to the next level by involving a superior. We have to stick up for ourselves and for our colleagues; there’s no “us vs. them” as we are all in this together. We all sacrifice so much time, money, and energy to do our jobs; we don’t need anything, especially our race, something that has no bearing on our ability to deliver care, holding us back.

What are your thoughts? Have you ever encountered similar issues of racial bias and stereotyping in the hospital? Read more physician stories about their experiences with race in the hospital setting HERE.