Re: Partha Kar: We must stand up and challenge offensive behaviour
Dear Editor,
As a white woman of privilege, I am fortunate to very rarely be at the sharp end of discrimination. When I am, it is always because I am a woman and I am frequently, and increasingly, disappointed by the silence of male witnesses (Pathar Kar, Offensive behaviour has to be challenged, 7th Dec 2019). Like other female doctors, I have long been accustomed to the everyday assumption that I am a nurse. On this particular occasion myself, and another senior (male) registrar flanked the consultant on our post take ward round. We had stethoscopes around our necks, notes in hand. The male consultant conferred with us on the patient’s case and best course of action while 3 further male junior colleagues stood slightly behind noting down jobs. The patient was itching to leave the hospital and keen to get his cannula out so I swiftly obliged, donning a pair of gloves, swab and tape at the ready. At the end of the consultation the patient thanked “all you doctors” gesturing towards me adding, “and your technician”.
I raised an experienced (at sexism) eyebrow as we walked away and waited for someone to correct him. Instead, the consultant looked somewhat embarrassed and muttered under his breath that I was a doctor whilst shuffling away. It was left to me to explain to my junior male colleagues the ways in which sexist assumptions such as these can have systematic negative impact upon women’s wellbeing and career progression, not to mention patient care. I was frank about my expectation of their vocal solidarity, solidarity my consultant colleague had failed to show.
I contrast this with an experience in which a patient overtly told me they did not want to be seen by the black SHO on our team. I was shocked into silence but my white male consultant, who had stepped outside the curtain to take a call, overheard and marched directly back to the bedside and told the patient in no uncertain terms that he would not tolerate racism and that any further behaviour of this sort would result in the patient being removed from that hospital.
The NHS is the 5th largest employer in the world and thus reflective of societal attitudes. It should therefore come as no surprise that in spite of progress made in the wake of the #metoo movement, sexism continues to be a problem within medicine. By way of example we need look no further than the recent report into sexism within the BMA which described an “old boys culture” allowed to go unchallenged (BMJ 2019;367:l6089). Racism too remains institutionalised and in a country emboldened by racist rhetoric from the very top of society, colleagues and patients of colour are continually and systematically discriminated against with little sign of challenge. It is all our responsibilities to call out perpetrators of any form of discriminatory behaviour but I expect most from those in positions of power – their silence is complicity and that complicity silences us all.
Rapid Response:
Re: Partha Kar: We must stand up and challenge offensive behaviour
Dear Editor,
As a white woman of privilege, I am fortunate to very rarely be at the sharp end of discrimination. When I am, it is always because I am a woman and I am frequently, and increasingly, disappointed by the silence of male witnesses (Pathar Kar, Offensive behaviour has to be challenged, 7th Dec 2019). Like other female doctors, I have long been accustomed to the everyday assumption that I am a nurse. On this particular occasion myself, and another senior (male) registrar flanked the consultant on our post take ward round. We had stethoscopes around our necks, notes in hand. The male consultant conferred with us on the patient’s case and best course of action while 3 further male junior colleagues stood slightly behind noting down jobs. The patient was itching to leave the hospital and keen to get his cannula out so I swiftly obliged, donning a pair of gloves, swab and tape at the ready. At the end of the consultation the patient thanked “all you doctors” gesturing towards me adding, “and your technician”.
I raised an experienced (at sexism) eyebrow as we walked away and waited for someone to correct him. Instead, the consultant looked somewhat embarrassed and muttered under his breath that I was a doctor whilst shuffling away. It was left to me to explain to my junior male colleagues the ways in which sexist assumptions such as these can have systematic negative impact upon women’s wellbeing and career progression, not to mention patient care. I was frank about my expectation of their vocal solidarity, solidarity my consultant colleague had failed to show.
I contrast this with an experience in which a patient overtly told me they did not want to be seen by the black SHO on our team. I was shocked into silence but my white male consultant, who had stepped outside the curtain to take a call, overheard and marched directly back to the bedside and told the patient in no uncertain terms that he would not tolerate racism and that any further behaviour of this sort would result in the patient being removed from that hospital.
The NHS is the 5th largest employer in the world and thus reflective of societal attitudes. It should therefore come as no surprise that in spite of progress made in the wake of the #metoo movement, sexism continues to be a problem within medicine. By way of example we need look no further than the recent report into sexism within the BMA which described an “old boys culture” allowed to go unchallenged (BMJ 2019;367:l6089). Racism too remains institutionalised and in a country emboldened by racist rhetoric from the very top of society, colleagues and patients of colour are continually and systematically discriminated against with little sign of challenge. It is all our responsibilities to call out perpetrators of any form of discriminatory behaviour but I expect most from those in positions of power – their silence is complicity and that complicity silences us all.
Competing interests: No competing interests