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On Blood and Bridges: Remembering Congressman John Lewis

I was recently reading a Time magazine article, which included previously unreported coverage of Congressman John Lewis, the Civil Rights icon, who succumbed to cancer last week. When asked why he continued to tell his story, he responded:

          …it affects me — and sometimes it brings me to tears. But I think it’s important to tell it. Maybe it will help educate or inspire other people so they too can do something, they too can make a contribution.

As history tells us, Congressman Lewis, then a 25-year-old leader of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and coordinator of “Freedom Rides,” helped lead a march for voting rights from Selma, Alabama towards the state capital of Montgomery over the Edmund Pettus Bridge. The protestors were met with force by the state and local police. Mr. Lewis’ skull was fractured by the strike of a club. His was just one of numerous injuries endured by protestors. This fateful day—“Bloody Sunday”—March 7, 1965, is commemorated annually. People at home watched in shock and dismay as the protestors were brutalized. The ferocity of the images pricked the consciousness of the nation and resulted in many joining the cause. Their humanity wouldn’t allow them to sit passively and watch other humans decimated.

          I gave a little blood on that bridge

Fast forward 55 years…

On March, 13, 2020, the US declared a state of emergency in response the COVID-19 pandemic. US citizens across the country were advised to shelter-in-place to slow the spread of the novel coronavirus that had invaded our shores. Away from typical distractions of work, traffic, and the hustle of everyday life that usually occupies our minds, many sat fixated on the television as we watched cases and mortality increase. Amidst this vacuum, we were confronted by shocking visuals: a video of a police officer kneeling on the neck of an unarmed black man for 8 minutes and 46 seconds. In the context of social distancing, Americans were challenged to face themselves. The reality of racial inequities in the US, previously shielded by a cognitive dissonance (e.g., “we don’t know what happened before the video”), was now proximal and palpable. We had nowhere to go. We had to sit with it. As in the 1960s, we were outraged by the inhumanity – as we should be.

As a Black woman, it’s difficult to think of a time when I wasn’t completely aware of race relations in this country. Seeing others enlightened and even corroborating the stories of injustice in the US that I have known to be true as early as middle school was encouraging. However, I’d like to challenge our comfort a bit further. The same racism that cracked the skull of a peaceful protestor and kneeled on the neck of an unarmed man is the racism that ignores a black mother’s request for medical attention, dismisses the reports of pain of a black patient with a clearly broken bone, or assumes that black bodies die sooner as a matter of biology. Racism is both the lifeblood and the heartbeat of racial disparities in health and healthcare.

Racism built the communities in which we live, the public schools we are able to attend, and the types of businesses in our neighborhoods that provide basic necessities, such as food. It built our Capitol building and the home of our nation’s chief executive. It even built our most premier educational institutions and their medical and research empires. Racism lives in our silence as much as (if not more than) it lives in violence. It quietly sits within the foundations of our institutions and leaches its contaminants into our social spaces in a way that is both proliferative and reinforcing.

So, where do we go from here? Congressman Lewis once recounted a story of hearing Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. speak. He spoke of:

          …the “spirit of history” inviting him to take his place.

Though it may mean protesting, it may also be interpreted as taking an active role in addressing health disparities in our respective places. If you’re reading this, your place is probably in healthcare, research, policy, or in the community; if not, it could also be finance, criminal justice, human resources, or administration. Regardless of your position, everyone can and MUST make a contribution if we desire to see the best of what our society could be. As during shelter in place, if we can steady ourselves long enough, we will hear the echoes of humans in despair beckoning our individual and collective humanity to act. Together, we have to “slow the spread” of racism—a pandemic1 that stretches as far back as our nation’s earliest years.

Let’s honor Congressman Lewis. This is our bridge. Let’s be human.

 

References

  1. Williams DR and Cooper LA. COVID-19 and Health Equity—A New Kind of “Herd Immunity” JAMA. 2020;323(24): 2478-2480.

“The views, opinions and positions expressed within this blog are those of the author(s) alone and do not represent those of the American Heart Association. The accuracy, completeness and validity of any statements made within this article are not guaranteed. We accept no liability for any errors, omissions or representations. The copyright of this content belongs to the author and any liability with regards to infringement of intellectual property rights remains with them. The Early Career Voice blog is not intended to provide medical advice or treatment. Only your healthcare provider can provide that. The American Heart Association recommends that you consult your healthcare provider regarding your personal health matters. If you think you are having a heart attack, stroke or another emergency, please call 911 immediately.”

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Housing and Health Equity in Cardiovascular Disease

So far, 2020 has been a year of public health crises. By early spring, it was apparent that people living in socio-economically disadvantaged areas were being hit hardest by Covid-19 [1]. In these same areas, people across the United States took to the streets protesting the murder of George Floyd, an unarmed Black man – in police custody [2]. In the words of James Baldwin, “It demands great spiritual resilience not to hate the hater whose foot is on your neck, and an even greater miracle of perception and charity not to teach your child to hate.”, and we as a country are still looking for this resilience [3]. Among the many consequences of this year’s events, these tragedies have really prompted a long, hard look at our healthcare system. One recently published article that was particularly heartening to read was the American Heart Association’s Council on Epidemiology and Prevention and Council on Quality of Care and Outcomes Research Scientific Statement on “Importance of Housing and Cardiovascular Health and Well-Being”. It outlines how housing stability, quality, affordability, and neighborhood environment are linked to cardiovascular disease. The statement doesn’t shy away from evidence of how increased psychosocial stress in the Black community and other social determinants of health are associated with cardiovascular health disparities.

The world has changed profoundly over the past year and while we continue to strive to show charity to others in our everyday encounters, I look forward to reading more research that will help inform how we as a community can better address health inequity.

References:

“The views, opinions and positions expressed within this blog are those of the author(s) alone and do not represent those of the American Heart Association. The accuracy, completeness and validity of any statements made within this article are not guaranteed. We accept no liability for any errors, omissions or representations. The copyright of this content belongs to the author and any liability with regards to infringement of intellectual property rights remains with them. The Early Career Voice blog is not intended to provide medical advice or treatment. Only your healthcare provider can provide that. The American Heart Association recommends that you consult your healthcare provider regarding your personal health matters. If you think you are having a heart attack, stroke or another emergency, please call 911 immediately.”

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Pandemics Juxtaposed

Many of you are wondering about what I as a leader in various ways am thinking about the racial pandemic, juxtaposed with the coronavirus pandemic.

In the coronavirus pandemic, I had been starting my emails with something like, “I hope you have been able to stay well during these unprecedented times”.

This morning, I started to write an email to a group of people.

At first, I typed, “I hope you are well”.

Then I deleted that and started over.

And then wrote, “I hope you are sorting through these multiply tumultuous times.”

I deleted that too and skipped that intro altogether, and instead decided to share it with you all.

Let me tell you why. You should already be able to figure this out, but let me walk you through it.

Here it is.

Plainly and simply.

I hope you are NOT well.

I hope you are not OK with seeing what is going on in the world around you. I hope you are not OK with the global ignorance we have as people. I hope you’re not OK with the complacency with which we live our lives.

I hope you are NOT well.

I hope that your heart has been breaking inside due to centuries and decades of injustice.

I hope your well-being has been ruffled knowing that all are NOT well.

That all is NOT well.

We all agreed that as a society the goal is to be well.

However, the goal we should desire is for all to be well.

We cannot be true to ourselves until we honestly recognize that all are not well until the futures of our black men, women, boys, girls, and babies in this country and around the world are well.

Until then, how can you be well?

Together, in community, how can we be well?

We can be well when we start to admit that we are not.

We can be well when we commit to open dialogue and truthful conversation about race.

We can be well when we recognize our ineptitude as a society at understanding and addressing what ails us.

We can be well when it finally legitimately rings true that all men, women, boys, girls, and babies in the United States are indeed understood, recognized, perceived, and treated as equal.

“The views, opinions and positions expressed within this blog are those of the author(s) alone and do not represent those of the American Heart Association. The accuracy, completeness and validity of any statements made within this article are not guaranteed. We accept no liability for any errors, omissions or representations. The copyright of this content belongs to the author and any liability with regards to infringement of intellectual property rights remains with them. The Early Career Voice blog is not intended to provide medical advice or treatment. Only your healthcare provider can provide that. The American Heart Association recommends that you consult your healthcare provider regarding your personal health matters. If you think you are having a heart attack, stroke or another emergency, please call 911 immediately.”