St. Paul Is Burning

Abstract

She held her mother’s hand tightly She wore her mask. It covered her mouth and nose Her eyes, and only her eyes look to me Contractions surged, and with them, came an irresistible urge PUSH I stood looking at her, my body positioned between her legs, behind me the television The fire billowed through the celluloid The orange glow caught my eye I turned my head. St. Paul was burning PUSH The police scrimmaged with the people. An unfair fight The fire blazed. The people cried. Tears. Protest songs. Fire. A man has died. So many have died. PUSH Senseless violence. Senseless death. And for what, counterfeit money? For what, a life was lost? A knee laid down, not to pay respect. Not to propose an engagement. Not to protest an anthem. But to subdue another. To exercise authority. To draw that line between White and Black. PUSH Depraved indifference. We have all been indifferent in one way, shape, or form We have knelt and leaned into privilege and a caste system that has perpetuated this discrimination and inequality PUSH Four hundred years, this has brewed and boiled Injustice and inequality, bubbling over despite movements and protests and court decisions; really placations PUSH She’s so close now The baby’s head is crowning I encourage her and implore her not to give up Give it everything she has and then some A new life is coming. A life was just lost. So many more may be on the line. PUSH What will life hold for this baby? How long will it last? Will it be vibrant or dull, valued or dismissed, nurtured or trampled? All these thoughts cloud my mind as I implore PUSH The beads of sweat fill her brow This woman, this woman of color What are her odds? How did we get here? She has four times the risk of coming to the hospital and leaving in a body bag Systemic racism, systematically marginalized I did not think I practiced medicine differently I thought I gave every patient my all, everything I had, just like this patient PUSH The fires still penetrate my peripheral vision The glowing rages PUSH PUSH The final thrust 3-2-1 The head traverses the perineum Leaving the protection and security of the womb Brave? Unaware? No other option but to emerge into this harsh world, filled with uncertainty PUSH Happy birthday Baby Boy … A Boy … Her whole body relaxes with joy and relief and love She holds him tightly, as tightly as she can Waiting one extra minute before severing that cord The last moments they’re connected She’s about to unleash him into this world I wonder what she’s thinking She can’t help but also see the fires burning, as the TV confronts her unabashed PUSH She will need to push back on society’s pressures, fight the injustice and challenge the inequities To give her baby the best chance in this life Behind me, those same embers flare I will ultimately leave this patient’s side, attend another woman’s delivery But, I vow, I will PUSH back too I will do my best to ensure this world be kind to them both I will try to change what I can and break down those silos that divide us So that he can run in the streets without fear So that he can live his life without fear So that he and all others like him can and will live long and healthy lives So that he can be loved and protected and valued and that his birth means something That he is new, and this world may be new too