11/26/2025
7 uncomfortable truths I’m grateful for as a Black orthopedic surgeon.
Some gratitude comes with scars. The patient who said she didn’t trust any doctors—even Black ones. The attendings who touched my locs without permission. Being invisible in my own hospital’s waiting room after performing 200+ surgeries that year.
These moments didn’t break me. They built me.
Every “you’re too emotional to be a surgeon” became diagnostic precision. Every “are you really the doctor?” became a chance to heal generational medical trauma. Every Sunday-best outfit in my waiting room reminded me why representation literally saves lives.
I’m not thankful FOR the struggle. I’m thankful for who it forced me to become—and for every wall I now get to tear down for the Black women surgeons coming behind me.
Because “first” sounds like victory but feels like loneliness. Until the second one joins you. Then it’s revolution.
Swipe through for the truths that changed everything →
