Neurology Residency Interview Trail (Part 2)

NOLA - Beautiful weather, amazing food, and microaggressions?

Photo from here

I took an overnight Megabus on a Saturday evening from Atlanta to New Orleans for my next interview. It lasted about 8.5 hours. I had a horrible headache the entire day I was in Atlanta at my friend's place and I had no idea why. I'd eaten regular meals, drank a lot of water, napped for a couple of hours that day, and even took an extra-strength Tylenol but nothing worked. I was so afraid that the headache would continue into the following day and worse into Monday during the interview (unlikely, but I was still paranoid). I slept pretty much the entire bus ride except for the couple of times we stopped in Montgomery and Evergreen, Alabama. The headache went away completely by the time we arrived in New Orleans, thank God. 

Once I arrived, I dropped my things off at The Quisby (a fantastic hostel in the area nearby the hospital and bus station) and took a walk around the area. The weather was absolutely gorgeous (60s) at 7AM on Sunday, and the streets were empty. For some reason I felt like I was in another country with the palm trees, warm 'foreign' weather (I'm used to Chicago and NY's nasty winter), and the smell. I can't explain it, but there was something about the smell of the city that tricked my mind into thinking that I was in a more tropical place, like Jamaica.

Photo from here

I stopped at a popular brunch spot called Surrey's Cafe & Juice Bar. I ordered their Bananas Foster French Toast. It was to die for. It felt like heaven in my mouth after the first bite. It was certainly pricey but I wanted to try a popular local meal. 

The staff at this cafe were great. The locals also seemed friendly, but something (smallish) happened that made me think a lot more about microaggressions (Google definition of microaggression = a statement, action, or incident regarded as an instance of indirect, subtle, or unintentional discrimination against members of a marginalized group such as a racial or ethnic minority). 

A white couple came into the cafe with their daughter (who couldn't have been older than 2) and sat at a table next to mine. The girl was jabbering and squirming around in her high chair. A key fell from the table underneath the high chair. I was close enough to grab it so I picked it up and handed it over to the mother, "Here you go," I said with a smile. The woman didn't even look at me, mumbled, "Oh, thanks", and snatched the key from my hand before snipping at her daughter to sit down properly in the chair. I went back to perusing a list of fun things to do in the area. I figured that both parents were preoccupied with keeping their daughter from hurting herself. 

The girl continued squirming and a pacifier went flying and landed on the floor nearby my table again. I actually didn't notice it until an older, white woman from another table reached under my chair to pick it up and hand it back to the mother. The mother looked at the woman and said with a big smile, "Thanks so much!" Then she turned to her daughter and said, "What do you say sweetie? Say thank you to the nice lady."

I didn't really give this interaction much thought until I left the cafe. That's when I chuckled and thought to myself, "Wait a minute... That was weird. Does that situation count as a microaggression? Is it possible that the mother was kind of impolite to me because of...well you know....? And maybe she just didn't realize her own actions at all? Am I overthinking this??" I never play the race card, and I honestly don't ever really think about how my race might play a role in the way I am being treated by someone. I'm a human being, that's all that matters. Who cares if I have a little more melanin than you? 

My parents grew up in a country (Jamaica) that is predominantly black, so the issues of racism, prejudice, and micro/macroaggressions were certainly not pervasive in society. The United States is another story, needless to say. Growing up with parents who were not familiar with or had not been exposed to racism or prejudice during their own upbringing, I think this had a lot to do with my oblivion to micro/macroaggressions for most of my life. I have not been aware of them, or perhaps they just haven't happened to me as often as they would in places like the south or say a random majority-white, small town in Wisconsin, for example. Let's be honest. I'm now more aware of microaggressions because I've been having more conversations with friends and family about them. 

Tchoupitoulas Chicken
Grilled chicken breast topped with a Louisiana crawfish
tasso cream sauce and smoked mozzarella cheese, served
over whipped potatoes and asparagus
Photo from here

Anyway, later that day I was able to finally check in to the hostel and head over to Tulane's pre-interview dinner. We went to a place called Superior Seafood. The food was out of this world. It was without a doubt the most delicious food I'd eaten while on the interview trail (and possibly ever). I ordered the Tchoupitoulas chicken (I have no idea how to pronounce that). I also ordered bread pudding with a delicious caramel sauce and whipped cream on the side. Amazing. I felt bad about eating so much but I tried to make up for it by walking 30 minutes to and from the interview the next day. (Weather was in the 60s!). If I could fly back down to NOLA just to have this same meal I would.

Houston - talking politics on Greyhound and learning about the most diverse city in the US!

On the Greyhound bus from New Orleans to 

Houston, I was sitting next to a Louisiana

Photo from here

native, a middle-aged white man with a strong Southern accent who worked as a truck driver for many years (let's call him "Steve"). I was hoping to both nap and read "Kennedy and King" during the 6-hour drive, but I didn't mind taking a break, albeit long, to talk to Steve. We ended up chatting for a few hours about a number of things, including the attractions of Louisiana, alligators, "swamp people", New Jersey (my home state), his family, my career goals, and we ended the conversation discussing politics. It was a respectful, genuine conversation about our feelings regarding Trump's policies and his administration. We also touched on Obama's policies a little bit. (I admitted upfront that I don't know a lot about politics and I don't follow it very closely, so I spent much of our conversation Iistening to Steve). It probably won't take you by surprise when I say that he was a strong supporter of Trump's policies, but he wasn't crazy about "Trump himself".

Steve opened up a lot to me and shared that I was the first black person he'd had a genuine conversation with in over two years. In all of that time he adamantly refused to speak to "another black person" because of the negative encounters he'd previously had with them. He gave an example of a time in 2016 when he was the only white person working a construction job somewhere in the south among several other older black men. The black men were having a heated conversation about Trump, and Steve said that he was trying to avoid getting involved. After some more taunting from the men, he couldn't help himself and told them that though Trump was an "a**hole, his policies are sound." The other men boiled it down to a race issue and immediately dismissed Steve, calling him a "racist hillybilly redneck".

I cringed when he shared this. "Ever since then I ain't never spoke to another black person the way I'm speakin' to you. They always say I'ma hillybilly racist and it ain't true! I notice they also always seem to be makin' excuses for not moving forward in life."

I was speechless for a while as I tried to gather my thoughts to formulate some words. I tried to explain to Steve the point of view of the black men, including their anger, the pain they and their families experienced over the years with racial injustice, and the frustration they feel when they encounter a white individual who supports Trump, because it is difficult for the white community to even fathom what black individuals have gone through in our nation's history (and even continues to go through today). At the same time, I tried to comfort him and agreed that the men's dismissal of Steve as a "racist hillybilly redneck" was uncalled for and cruel. They didn't give him a chance to explain himself and that was very insensitive on their part.

Personally, Trump's inflammatory language was enough for me to dislike him from the very beginning. His rhetoric has been mysogynistic, ableist, and incredibly racist over the years. How can one possibly ignore that? For example, referring to Haiti, El Salvador, and a number of African nations as "s***hole" countries during a meeting with a bipartisan group of senators at the White House is absolutely disgusting and vulgar. These words came from the mouth of the President of our country.

I have to admit that by the end of the conversation I grew a little frustrated with Steve but I maintained my composure and didn't say any more to incite an inflammatory discussion. It became obvious that he wasn't bothered by Trump's nasty rhetoric and he wasn't sensitive to or knowledgeable about the ethnic minority's experience. He was very respectful, don't get me wrong, and he certainly opened up my eyes to another perspective. I became more aware of the shortcomings of the Obama administration and the strengths of Trump's. I admit that I don't often have in-depth conversations with supporters of Trump, but it's not because I avoid them; it's honestly because the opportunity doesn't often present itself. I am always open to having a discussion with someone who is willing to gently share their opinions and respect my own.

Houston, TX
Picture from here

When we arrived in Houston in the afternoon, I rushed to get ready for the pre-interview dinner and information session. I learned quite a few nice things about Houston, including that it is now the most diverse city in the country! I didn't know this! It was also nice to be able to tour the hospitals a little bit and see the gorgeous skyline of the city.

We went to a restaurant called Third Coast with the residents. I ordered the Tagrialini (I think this was the name) - it had pasta, shrimp, bacon, and some veggies. It wasn't bad, but I started to wish that I ordered the parmesan chicken instead.



(Okay I'm going to try to make the rest of these interview stories quick!):

Providence, Rhode Island - Freezing weather

I arrived in Providence at 1AM the day before my interview. I had a layover in Charlotte, NC (from Houston) and the flight to RI was delayed. Right before we boarded our flight in Charlotte I heard someone say, "If it's 30 degrees here in Charlotte it's probably 10 in Providence!" I chuckled when I heard that but the person ended up being right. It was 15 degrees in Providence when we landed. When I ran outside the airport to catch my Uber, the icy cold air hit me with a fierce slap in the face. It was such a stark contrast to the pleasant 50-60 degree winter weather of the South, and I was so annoyed to be experiencing the cold at that moment. To make matters worse, according to my Uber driver, the airport recently mandated that travelers grab their Lyft or Uber in a parking garage that was a bit of a walk away from the airport. Quite a few people were sprinting through the cold to catch their rides. I was frustrated at this new mandate and the crazy cold temperature that night.

Nashville, TN

Nashville is a great music city (not just country music). The food is great, people are friendly, and it's relatively diverse. Interestingly, Nashville has the largest population of Kurds in the country. The Kurds are a community of people who have migrated from Middle Eastern countries like Turkey, Iran, Iraq, and Syria. 

Vanderbilt has so much to offer, and I really enjoyed meeting the Chair, Program Director, Associate Program Director, and residents. They truly have a wonderful team. 

I stayed in Music City Hostel for one night before flying to New York the following morning. While there I shared a room with three other women (it was very cheap). 

New York, NY

NYC is a stressful place. One morning, on my way to an interview, I walked into the wrong subway station and didn't realize it until after I already swiped my MetroCard to get through the turnstile. That was a waste of $2.75. I exited the station and stood at the corner for several minutes trying to decide what to do. It made me a little anxious to stand there as people rushed by. If I took the next train at the correct station I'd arrive just on time, but if I ordered an Uber/Lyft, I'd get there 10 minutes early though it would cost lots more money. I ended up ordering an Uber because I didn't want to risk arriving late. 

To be honest, as I walked through some of the neighborhoods of Manhattan during the several days I spent there, I couldn't help but wonder why NYC is such a glamorized place. So many people smoke, unfortunately.... and spit! Right on the sidewalk. Also, I wouldn't be surprised if some of the small puddles on the sidewalks are actually urine. The streets and subways are absolutely filthy. At times I had no choice but to put down my duffel bag on the floor of the trains. When I returned to my friend's place at the end of each day I wanted to burn the bag.

I suppose NYC has some nice aspects: it's extremely diverse, Times Square is gorgeous (my friend who I was staying with lives nearby there), and people mind their own business. Although I suppose the latter isn't always a good thing. When I was on the train heading back to my friend's place from an interview one evening, an older woman nearby me was coughing profusely. I was standing and holding on to the handrail. Another young lady sitting next to the older woman frowned, pursed her lips tightly, and tried to scooch away from the woman. The woman furrowed her eyebrows and looked around apologetically. She pulled out a tissue and let out a loud, hacking wet cough, filling the tissue with mucus. The young lady next to her looked absolutely disgusted and quickly turned her head away from the woman.

I scolded myself for not having another tissue or an extra water bottle on me to offer to the woman. Out of all days to forget a bottle of water! I wanted to kneel down, rest a hand on the poor woman's shoulder, and gently ask her, "Are you alright ma'am?". The young lady's behavior towards the woman also bothered me, and I wanted to set things straight by showing her how to treat strangers with compassion.

Let's be patient and kind with strangers. The woman could have had lung cancer, and people were looking at her with disgust on that train. It was so heart-breaking to see. What in the world happened to empathy? Let's do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Rochester, NY
During my two days in Rochester, I met up with a really good college friend who is currently in medical school at the University of Rochester. It was so nice catching up with her, eating her phenomenal home-cooked Cameroonian food, going to her local church, and binge-watching the first season of "You" with her on Netflix.

Rochester is a nice city. It's fairly diverse, the cost of living is great, and the Neurology residency program has been directed by one of the leaders in Academic Neurology for a while now. I enjoyed my time there.

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Thank you for reading this long post! I hope you enjoyed it :)