Flashback to Segregation

I live in a liberal, large city in blue-state California in 2005. Covert racism always happens in America, but it is a rare instance that I observe instances of overt racism here.

I was listening to the television a few weeks ago with a patient and her cousin as I was emptying the patient's foley catheter. The patient was an elderly woman who had very light colored skin. Her cousin, Mrs. Segregation, stayed devotedly at her bedside, and also had light colored skin.

The television announcer said, "This afternoon, two young African American men robbed the Convenience Store at the Corner of X and Y at...." which was interrupted by the raised voise of Mrs. Segregation, "People are always complaining about how many Black people are in jail. Well, it's because they just do more bad things!"

I turned to her as she finished her sentence, the words striking my face like glass shards. I must have misunderstood her, didn't I?

The announcer continued, "The men made their getaway in a '95 Ford..." Mrs. Segregation stiffened in her seat, "Well!" she yelped, "If we just took away all their cars, that would just solve the problem, don't you think?"

She blinked, waiting for someone to answer her. I had a stunned-fish look: wide eyes, gaping mouth. The patient was too ill to respond. More earnestly now, Mrs. Segregation tilted her neck towards me and said, "Well, don't you think?"

Outside of the hospital, my response would have bordered on verbal assault. But I am a student in a very conservative nursing program, and I have already drawn too much attention to myself in the past for bucking the system.

I looked back down at the catheter and continued my work.

Mrs. Segregation started mumbling to herself, justifying why she was right, nervously twisting the fringe of her jacket.

My cheeks burned a deep scarlet, shame for not having the cojones to say something.