How I Became Radicalized

Originally written April 8, 2020
One month into the U.S COVID-19 pandemic

I’m the type of Black person white people feel at ease around.

I am Ivy-league educated. I went to one of the top medical schools in the country. I am one of only 2% of black female physicians in the US.

But even more than that — my speech is smooth and deliberate. I keep my volume low and even, even when I am overcome with emotion. I spend hours straightening my hair with heat and chemicals. I make sure my clothes, including my long white coat, are pristine before I go to work for the day.

None of this is by accident. Quite the opposite in fact.

The version of myself I embody when I am in predominantly white spaces — which is where I spend the vast majority of my professional life — has been perfected over a lifetime.

For the vast majority of my life, a large portion of my mental, emotional and physical energy has gone into ensuring that I am not perceived as a threat to the white people in my life.

As you might imagine, this takes a large toll.

My life, for the last odd 25 years, has largely been about performing for the white gaze. When it’s all said and done, I have little energy reserves to devote to that which refuels…