My medical career began in 1973 with a single cup of bad coffee. I was a young Black man stuck in Stapleton Airport for a 3-hour layover between Connecticut and California. “Where are you bound?” asked the fellow traveler also waiting for a flight.
He looked bored at “To San Diego for an interview ” but perked up at ” for medical school.” With raised eyebrows he bought me a cup of coffee to keep the conversation alive. He was on the admissions committee of the University Colorado School of Medicine.
The committee struggled to recruit minority physicians to mirror the diversity of Colorado citizens. His dozens of questions about college, grades, goals, and tests filled the gap between the first sip and the last dregs of that coffee.
At that time I barely noticed his surprised comment: “Oh, you’ve actually done well in school!” My boarding announcement ended our chance meeting.”When you get back from San Diego, I want you to apply to the University of Colorado.” I did and that simple offer led to where I am today, 35 years later.
When I was accepted and entered school In 1975 affirmative action was still in full swing. Was I a token to fill a quota? But it was soon clear to me and my minority classmates that it had taken more than a high score on an entrance exam. We had worked much harder than our majority classmates to get to this professional level.
Midway through my training I was shocked by poor evaluation on a hospital rotation. Reviewing my record with the professor I pointed to grades and work hours that were slightly better than my classmates. He seemed a little surprised, said “It appears that you are actually doing well” and boosted my grade on the spot.
I believe he had graded me on his expectation and not on my performance. After that I worked harder and made myself more visible on the hospital ward. I researched every disease more thoroughly and spoke up more loudly. Everyone knew I was a high performing student, but it took an even higher level of achievement for that to be visible.
Could this be the same situation referred to by Geraldine Ferraro comments of March 11, 2008:” “If Obama was a white man, he would not be in this position.” Was she saying that Obama had accomplished more than his democratic and his republican rivals just to appear equally qualified?
My children grew up in a community where the few Black people were doctors, teachers, lawyers, and school principals.
The kids were recognized as elite everywhere they went. There was no affirmative action. But when these “A” students flew the nest, off to college, both were surprised by low expectations from some faculty. Once, sophmore daughter and I met with her new academic advisor.
Expecting a struggling college student, the professor opened the folder to a record of academic excellence. Reddening cheeks were the only signs of her embarrassment. With poise she choked out “Oh, you’re doing well.” followed by a penitent acknowledgement of her prejudice.
My daughter took neither offense nor pleasure. This is the way of the world. The two women worked out an appropriate schedule for the coming junior year.
These speed bumps in life do a great service for me and others preparing us for greater challenges. I suspect you will hear similar stories from African Americans of stature like, Gregory Moore, Barak Obama, Colin Powell, Condoleezza Rice, ,Clarence Thomas, Wellington Webb, Tiger Woods and others.
At this stage of life when entering a new hospital, or joining a new committee, I must wait for the inevitable “oh ” to pass. Then we get down to any real business at hand. While waiting, I keep a cup of coffee in hand to remind me of the airport coffee that started it all.
Warren Johnson (tecolote@earthlink.net) is a triathlete and family physician in Brighton.
He is a member of the 2007 Colorado Voices panel.
