Rachel Forester,
Attica, MI

For almost my whole work life, I worked as clerical help in a fairly large hospital Emergency Room. I held several different positions over the years. When I started there in my 20s most of the employees were white like me. By the time I hit my 60s the staff and the clientele were majority Black. I got along okay with my coworkers and although I am not especially gregarious I made friends. Then a few years shy of my retirement age my position was eliminated. Knowing I wasn’t really ready to retire (financially) my boss slotted me into an open position as the Greeter on the midnight shift. I went from a self directed paper pushing job in the back room to sitting at a prominent desk at the front of the waiting room for 12 hrs a shift. After the security screener (and then later on the Covid screener) I was the first person who saw every single sick person (and their relatives and their visitors) as they walked in. I had to ask them questions they mostly didn’t want to answer and run interference for the triage nurse when they were already busy with a patient and try to make excuses when the patient’s were forced to wait (sometimes hours on a busy night) to be admitted to the treatment area. It was an Emergency Room and even though most of our patients were not seriously ill (although some were) they were there for our help and, as you can imagine it could be a very stressful situation. Every night I sat down at my desk and looked out at a sea of Black faces. To make an already too long story short, I just want to say that all of this turned out to be a blessing to me. I really internalized what had merely given lip service to before: that people are essentially all alike. Even if the surface differences seem glaring, if you take the time to be honest with them and yourself and put yourself in their shoes you can see their point of view. It can be exhausting doing that, especially if someone is angry with you, anxious, feeling ill. Often you can see that because you’re white they think you’re not treating them fairly, or respectfully or taking their symptoms seriously. Sometimes you want to protest that that’s not so. But if you take some time to think about it you understand where they’re coming from. And, and this took a lot of uncomfortable reflection on my part, sometimes you admit to yourself that they were right. I was being officious, I was being less than sympathetic or helpful, I was indulging my knee jerk reactions to people who don’t look like me. I felt ashamed as I began to realize that about myself but I like to think I continued to work to improve my behavior. ANYWAY, as I said, I realized after a few years in this particular position (I am 2 yrs retired now) that I had been given the great gift or learning something about other people I should have always known and some unpleasant but true things about myself that allowed me to grow as a person. I really don’t see how white people are going to learn this lesson unless they are exposed to people who are (supposedly) different from them. And, even then, you have to be able to set aside your fears and prejudices (over and over again) and be open to understanding that people are just people. They want to be safe, fed, respected, heard – and they are willing to give as good as they get. Sorry I went on so long.