I have been on a Grey’s Anatomy binge recently, and as the class was progressing talking about medical neglect people of color have consistently received, Grey’s Anatomy was actively covering it on their episodes. I believe it was on like season 17 during the George Floyd protests. Since those episodes, coverage continued, more representation for other races and their struggles came out. And I was able to learn from those episodes. Their was an episode about a 12 year old kid who came in because he got shot by police at his own home. The kid had lost his key and was trying to climb in using the window. The police saw him and shot him. The kid was conscious at the hospital but died later in the episode. Afterwards, the doctor spoke with a couple of police officers, and the officers claimed that it was a judgement call, which pissed the doctor off (understandably so) because it was not a judgement call, he made a choice to kill that boy. Overall, they do a decent job covering racial issues on the show especially in later seasons, where they show how big events in the real world can affect people. There is another part where a lot of black people were going to protests after George Floyd got murdered. At the end of that episode, a bunch of the patients coming into the hospital as well as the black doctors showed off their scars from past protests and movements. However, they weren’t victimizing themselves, it was powerful. There is a lot more I can add, like there was another episode about an Asian patient who came into the hospital and died because the disease he had wasn’t common for white people, but moreso for Asians. They went into the detail the idea of the importance of considering race when it comes to medical evaluations, there isn’t a textbook method to diagnose and treat someone.

After watching the documentary Aftershock, I felt compelled to call my mother to see if she was doing okay. Unfortunately, the U.S. maternity health system has failed black mothers time and time again. Shamony Gibson, Amber Rose Isaac, and other black women were not able to get recognition in the media, but their stories and legacies live on. Their stories were truly devastating and made me thank the universe that my African mother did not have an instance of life-threatening neglect. I emphasize that my mother is African because she and her siblings were the first generation in my family to birth children outside the borders of our home country. That is a pretty big deal.

The year was 2003, this was the year that my mother found out she was pregnant. She then discovered there were two babies in her belly instead of one. Twins!!! Fraternal; a boy and a girl. (I could have been extra twining with Dr. Kate but my brother happens to be a boy and not identical to me). My parents lived in Prince George’s County at the time, gearing up to be parents for the first time which is probably a nerve-racking yet exciting experience.

Image by Shutterstock. (I hate it when the watermark is on top of the photo.)

With newfound curiosity, I asked my mom on a call last week what her experience at the hospital during her pregnancy and birth. She told me how the care you receive, depends on whether someone has insurance or not. Luckily, both she and my dad had had insurance they received from their work benefits. This pipelined her experience as a black woman in the U.S. differently as they knew that she would be able to pay for the outstanding bills that come with birth.

The doctor that she went to for her prenatal checkups did not follow an individualistic approach and went very by the book. The doctor insisted that my mom would go into pre-term labor (she didn’t). My mother felt as if she wasn’t truly given a chance and it was dehumanizing that the doctor wasn’t listening to her when it was HER body. Of course, she was not the expert on how this whole pregnancy thing worked but the person who who she needed reassurance the most from, was giving her the opposite. She said something to me on the call that truly stuck with me, “I’m an individual, not a machine”. I am certain that other pregnant women have felt this way because even though birth is a miraculous thing, it seems almost belittling in a sense what doctors tell or don’t tell their patients.

My mother got a C-section for her birth and stayed 4 days in the hospital after the birth which is not nearly enough; that was the maximum amount of days she could spend. She expressed that she thought she was being discharged too early, especially with the pain of the staples. There is so much pressure for new mothers to have it all figured out. From regaining your own strength to nursing your babies and attending to your mental health. I’m getting overwhelmed by just thinking about it. She did have a wonderful support system of friends and family to guide her along the way to lessen the heaviness of it all.

Mothers are superhuman. Tell your mom or motherly figure that you love them today.

Women and Reproductive Services

The medicalization of fertility and infertility, pregnancy, abortion, contraception, and childbirth care has not always worked in the interest of women, and it had particularly devastating effects on African American women. Their fertility has been managed for hundreds of years, first forced to have children for owners, then as objects to be experimented on, and sterilized without their consent.

Every aspect of fertility, including abortion, varies along racial lines. Black women were denied access to formal medical services well into the 20th century. The relationship between medicine and black women has been and remains troubled. Access to reproductive services remains problematic for black women in America.

African American Midwifery

The history of black midwifery in the United States began in the South with the “granny” midwives. They were generally respected, older, wise women who were transported from Africa to the Americas in the 17th century. They attended to other black women in birth, well-woman care, and a range of procreative services and healing well into the mid-20th century. During slavery, midwives aided in the building of community by caring for and supporting women throughout pregnancy as they brought forth new life.

Midwives are heroes. Working long hours in what is generally portrayed as an exhausting and thankless job. Despite their position, many reported that they were treated poorly. They show up for work, often in difficult environments, for little to no pay. Their unwavering resolve ensured that women and newborns get the care they need.

Labor Supply and Slavery

Enslaved women were dehumanized as a good to be bought and sold. Slave owners sought to maximize the number of enslaved women to bear children, as a result, labor supply increases and productive labor were performed on their own.

Many enslaved women resisted captivity usually by finding methods to avoid work. Part of the expected work consisted of bearing children that would then be treated as the slave owners’ property, and so that is why women wanted to avoid giving birth. The choices made by black women were more like industrial sabotage than personal liberation. They were forced choices more than their own choices, as their freedom was limited.

I’m going to start off this blog post with a trigger warning. This will contain speech about sexual assault that happened.

A little bit of information about me….I am a polyamorous, pansexual woman and I am also a hypersexual person. Sex is important to me when it comes to romantic relationships. Back near the end of May 2021 I was raped in my sleep by someone who was supposed to be a friend of mine. I remember waking up and not being able to move because I was in such shock about what was occurring at the time. Some people might victim blame and say it was because I sleep without clothes on but let’s be real here, he probably would have done it either way regardless if I had clothes on or not. Someone like that is going to do what they want no matter how it effects the other person. People like that are dangerous to society. Anyways, that’s not even the worst part about this story. The worst part about it that still affects me today is that I discovered I got herpes from it. My boyfriend at the time was the first person I told about my diagnosis and for the rest of our time together he practically treated me like a leper. He refused to kiss me or engage in any kind of sexual activity with me because he was afraid of contracting it too. This really scarred me emotionally and it’s still hard for me to accept rejection soley because of my diagnosis. Although, I do believe in fully informed consent when it comes to engaging in sexual activities with others but it has made things really difficult for me since my diagnosis to find people that are willing to be with me romantically or sexually. I do currently have three romantic partners but they are all long distance so we haven’t met in person yet but I talk to them all every day and we send photos and video chat when we can. There is a dating website for people who also have similar or the same diagnosis but it costs $15 a month to be able to message anyone you want to. As if it wasn’t already hard enough for people with herpes and other sexual conditions to find a potential partner or friend with benefits. I’m going to end this blog by saying this, you are NEVER unworthy of love. You ARE worth it. You are BEAUTIFUL regardless of your status. Don’t allow someone to make you hate yourself. You are LOVED.

I want to share something that’s been bothering me for quite some time. It’s about my anxiety and nervousness when I am around people whom I do not know. This has been a struggle for me, and it makes my body uncomfortable. Whenever I’m around unfamiliar faces, I feel confused and afraid. You might think that it’s normal to feel a little uneasy when you’re in new surroundings, but for me, it’s a different story. I can’t seem to shake off the fear that’s been paralyzing me. I feel as if I don’t have anything to contribute to a conversation, and I don’t want to say a word or give my idea about something. I don’t even want to share my thoughts because I’m lost and confused. It’s frustrating how I end up losing words that much when I’m with new people or those I do not know. I always feel like I’m lost, and I don’t know where to start. It’s difficult to initiate a conversation because I don’t know how to keep it going. My mind goes blank, and I feel like nobody wants to talk to me. Social anxiety is a serious mental health condition, and it can be incredibly isolating. Sometimes I would love to share my thoughts and opinions on matters of interest or join the conversations, but I can’t, and I end up not saying anything at all. In fact, the more I try to force myself to speak up, the more intense my anxiety becomes, and I shut down even further. The fear of saying something wrong and being judged can be overwhelming. It’s not that I don’t want to connect with others. I’m a very friendly and outgoing person with people that I know, but when it comes to someone new, all my sociable tendencies go out of the window. I’m left feeling isolated and very alone, trapped inside my own headspace. It’s made me feel like I’m not normal – like everyone else can handle social situations, but I can’t. I’ve missed out on so many opportunities to make friends or connections because of my anxiety, and it’s made me feel lonely and depressed at times.

However, the good thing is there is hope. I’ve  found that opening up to trusted friends and family members has helped me feel less alone and more supported through this journey. I’m now working hard on ways to manage and overcome my social anxiety. I’m also slowly exposing myself to new social experiences, allowing myself to feel progressively more comfortable in social settings. I want anyone else who’s struggling with social anxiety to know that you’re not alone, and that it’s okay to ask for help. Don’t let your anxiety hold you back from living the life you want. Reach out to a professional or someone you trust there are people out there who understand and can help you navigate this difficult experience.  I hope that sharing my experience has helped someone out there feel less alone. We’re all in this together.The process of managing social anxiety is a challenging one, but with the right support and guidance, it is possible to overcome it.

I’m proud of my Pakistani heritage and it is a significant part of my identity. However, there are some aspects that I believe need to evolve according to our current society. A South Asian woman will constantly face judgment and pressure throughout her life. We are constantly receiving unsolicited “advice” from others in our community. If we dress in tight clothes, show too much skin, or wear too much makeup, we’re begging for male validation. What kind of respectable man would want to marry a woman like that? A woman should pursue higher education, but can’t be too successful because her husband is supposed to be the breadwinner. Women are expected to be the caretakers of the house and the family, but she also needs to have her own career, or else she’s just a lazy housewife. 

Being a brown woman means enduring physical and emotional labor while balancing responsibilities as a wife, mother, daughter, or daughter-in-law. We are always expected to let go of our own desires/goals in order to appease our husbands, families, and in-laws. My close friend recently got engaged, and is planning on pursuing a career in dentistry. Her parents fully support this decision, however her in-laws insist that she chooses a shorter career path so she can prioritize her role as a wife. My friend wants to gain approval from her in-laws, but she doesn’t want to give up on her career which she has so much passion and drive for. This is a common situation that many brown women find themselves in: balancing their goals with what other people tell them their goals should be. 

Men in our community definitely face their own struggles, but not to the same extent that we do. I wish South Asian women could freely make their own decisions and live their lives authentically without being controlled by double standards. I hope that my generation of brown women can break the cycle and let our daughters live the lives they deserve.

Being a woman of color with a major about health resources and allocation, it’s often hard to make decisions to open ended question in my classes. I major in Public Health and many times we talk about health disparities and how to allocate our resources, make policy changes, and find the root to the problem. Oftentimes it is hard to agree with a room full of people who do not understand the full effects of their thoughts and actions. They sometimes fail to realize cultures, socioeconomic background, and the systemic racism of our policies and the world we live in.

It can be easy to say that people who are highly infected should get treatments and vaccines, but what about the cost of that? Will the government pay for it? Will we make those who cannot afford the treatments pay for it when the reason they are in a highly infected area is because they do not have the original resources to test and isolate?

How about issues regarding guns in public housing? Do we get rid of the law that allows people to purchase and keep it? Do we allow it, but strengthen the background checks and paperwork? How about those who have to live in these public houses because they cannot afford to live anywhere else feeling unsafe because this type of housing is situated in low income, high crime rate areas. And how about those in power or watching over these areas? Will they take the time to check if these firearms are legally obtained or will they just assume they are all criminals and arrest or even kill these innocent people.

But with all this information and everything to consider it is hard to come to a conclusion to help the public because systems are in place to help white people. Systems are in place where people of color cannot and will not succeed, but even people and their ideologies, opinions, thoughts, hinder safety and well being. I often feel overwhelmed with the decisions that I have to make and how it will affect other people. So with all the information I have learned and are still learning, what do I do with this information in a room full of white people?

Emotional labor was defined by Arlie Hochschild as the work we do behind the work we do. To use her words, it is “evoking and suppressing emotions” to suit the job. You are doing labor, but what is being monitored is your ability to present a specific feeling during that labor. I disagree with Hochschild, however, in that emotional labor can not only be an aspect of jobs, but also one of daily life. Similar to Carl Jung’s concept of the persona, one has to balance and control emotions in order to present a specific self around others. This oftentimes draining task can be described as labor, as well as the tasks necessary to maintain that mask. And for the LGBTQ+ community, I would argue that a lot of emotional labor is during one’s time in the closet.

Unless someone is able to come out in a safe and accepting environment, or able to find enough support to be able to come out in the first place, there is a lot of work in disguising everything from prying eyes. For me personally, this has meant trying to name five different hiding spaces for my shoes or skirts. This has meant having to search for my clip-on earring collection because it is constantly disorganized. And this has meant more as I have come to realize more about my gender identity. All of that hiding and planning and changing in the car or in a restroom is physical and mental labor, but the emotional aspect is nowhere near ignorable either. After every chance to wear an outfit that makes me feel happy and comfortable on campus, or even a chance to put on a pair of heels for the day, there is always the realization that I have to change back before heading home. This also restricts the possibility of wearing makeup as I would have to spend time meticulously putting it on and then taking it off again. This knowledge of having to change back weighs heavy on me, and I have recently felt drained just from the thought of not being able to freely transform each day. Yet I have to hide the constant frustration around my parents and the annoyance of being called “sir” by someone at work. I have to put on the face around family, coworkers, and customers alike and manage my resentment on a near-daily basis. I see it as having to keep a lock on the closet sometimes. The only time I can unlock it is when I am online talking to a friend, by myself with my longing and admiration, or with someone that I feel comfortable coming out to.

Is this a stretch of Hochschild’s concept of emotional labor? Maybe. But I would like to ask the reader: when you have to suppress something around others, do you feel drained? And is it just at work, or every day, that you feel you need to manage one part or another of your emotions?

Further to the point, after how long does it take until one feels alienated from their environment due to managing these emotions constantly?

This post is going to be a bunch of questions and different thoughts so hang with me. We’re going to start with a quote from one of my favorite shows “Bojack Horseman” that has stuck with me for years. For context, the lady saying this is talking about a pop star who was a Miley Cyrus type child star gone “bad.” She says, “I’m a fan of her early work which both satirized and celebrated youth culture’s obsession with sex, but I do wonder as a third-wave feminist if it’s even possible for women to reclaim their sexuality in this deeply entrenched patriarchal society, or if claiming to do so is just a lie we tell ourselves so we can more comfortably cater to the male gaze” (Bob-Waksberg, 2014).

Now, I’m a lesbian, so I do wonder if I am too biased to be writing this. However, I do think being outside of heteronormativity can give a more objective perspective sometimes, but this is what discussions are for. 

Anyway, immediately after hearing this quote I think about the media of course, specifically the female rap music industry. I think about this because we receive so many messages about being a boss bitch by “getting your nut and leaving” or using men for sex like they do to us, or just talking about sex in general. And I wonder, does this actually benefit women as a whole (specifically straight women)? What is empowering to a woman differs, so I’m sure this mindset helps a lot of women feel empowered. I do think it really depends, but this view ultimately places a lot of emphasis on the other person to define one’s own sexual empowerment. I also question the intention behind this message of music industries; do they want women to be empowered by encouraging them to sleep with whomever they want, or is it a set up for women to further objectify themselves and keep having sex with men/cater to the male gaze/feel validated?

When I was in this phase, it was before I realized I was a lesbian. I was basically just having sex with men as a form of self harm, to get some type of intimacy with a person, to make me feel a little more in control over my life, and get male validation. Hearing my friends talk about their  rosters and all the guys they were talking to made me feel invalidated and insecure, and I craved that validation, as most women are taught to do. So even though I didn’t like men, I only knew how to make myself feel “empowered” by having more sex with them. And of course this left me feeling empty and a little more traumatized than before. And even though I was a closeted lesbian, a lot of women have sex for the same reasons and also end up feeling unfulfilled and empty after hookups. Almost as if hookup culture wasn’t made for women. 

I think it’s easy to conform to that patriarchal view of sex and feeling prideful and validated by who or how many people they sleep with. But does the pendulum have to swing that way first, or are we swinging the wrong pendulum? Because let’s be honest, most straight men do not care about the other person’s pleasure, especially if they don’t know them well or care about them emotionally. I don’t think straight women get the same benefits as straight men during a typical hookup. 

Maybe it is possible for women to reclaim their sexuality as an individual, but being perceived by men in patriarchal society will alter that. This reminds me of the social disability model and how being a woman isn’t an impairment, but our society hinders us because of this. I guess it really just depends on each woman, but then again we all fall victim to this society, and I think it’s easy to confuse objectification with empowerment if we’re not really thinking critically about what we’re doing, why we’re doing it, and if it is serving us personally. 

I also think about if this is different for the LGBTQ+ community. Although we are not conforming to heteronormative sexuality, we are all impacted by socialization. For example if a lesbian couple is free from sexual interaction with men, yet they are still fetishized while doing literally nothing in public, can they still reclaim their sexuality in this society? Or does that put too much emphasis on other people? Can one be truly happy and accepting of their sexuality when they are not accepted in society? If that’s the case, what is sexual empowerment? How can we break through that lens? Can anyone be truly sexually empowered in a patriarchal society?

Growing up, I witnessed firsthand the relentless toll that labor can take on the human body. My mother, a dedicated hair stylist, stands for over 12 hours a day, making her body a silent battlefield where every muscle and joint fights a daily war. As a result, the sight of her returning home from work, her face etched with exhaustion, is a heartbreaking reminder of the sacrifices made by those who endure physically demanding jobs.

My mother’s profession is not just about snipping, styling, and beautifying; it’s a labor of love that requires incredible physical and emotional resilience. Day in and day out, she stands on her feet, lifting, reaching, and stretching to create the perfect look for her clients. The reality is that, despite her dedication to making others look and feel beautiful, her own body has borne the brunt of this grueling work. It’s a trade-off many laborers face, whether they’re construction workers, nurses, or hairstylists.

As a child, I often watched my mother return from work with her body in a constant state of agony. Her feet swollen, her shoulders slouched, and her face etched with pain. Witnessing her struggle was difficult, and it instilled in me a deep understanding of the physical and emotional toll that labor can take. My mother’s resilience is nothing short of inspiring, but it is disheartening to see how her sacrifices have impacted her overall well-being.

This upbringing, observing the demanding nature of my mother’s job, has had a significant influence on the choices I’ve made in life, especially regarding my career path. I knew from a young age that I didn’t want to embark on a career that would subject me to the same grueling physical demands. Instead, I chose to pursue a major in Information Systems. This decision was not just about escaping the physical rigors of labor but also about harnessing the power of technology and data to make work and life more efficient and manageable.

In Information Systems, I’ve found a way to contribute to the world by streamlining processes and solving problems without subjecting my body to relentless physical strain. I’ve chosen a field that allows me to make a meaningful impact while safeguarding my own health and well-being.

While I am grateful for the lessons my mother’s labor has taught me about hard work and perseverance, I am also mindful of the importance of preserving one’s body and mental health. Watching her journey has reinforced the need to appreciate and support those who engage in physically demanding jobs.

My mother is one of the countless unsung heroes who endure the physical and emotional challenges of labor, and her story serves as a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made by millions of people worldwide. It’s essential that we recognize and appreciate the resilience and dedication of laborers, and work towards creating environments that prioritize their well-being.

As I continue my journey in Information Systems, I carry with me the profound respect and admiration for those who labor tirelessly, like my mother. Their sacrifices are the foundation upon which our society is built, and it is only fitting that we acknowledge and honor their unwavering dedication to making the world a better place, one day at a time.