Personal Narrative: Being Black

Words: 1462
Pages: 6

I love being black. But being black comes with positives and negatives. And sometimes it seems like the negatives outweigh the positive. One Thursday evening in the spring my mom picked me up from school and asked me to accompany her to the hospital. I agreed because I didn’t want her to go alone. She had been having severe migraines for the past 6 months. She drove us to a hospital in Princeton. I remember us being in such a good mood and even joking about the fact she had borrowed one of my shirts. Our mood quickly went from happy to bitter within the five minutes we had been in the hospital. The nurse that checked my mom in was a white older lady, who asked my mom questions about her symptoms and took her blood pressure. This nurse had been …show more content…
She came and sat down next to us and asked how long we had been sitting there. My mom told her we had been there for eight hours and she told her about how rude the nurse had been. The lady was very nice and helpful and said she would go get the nurse's name, just incase we wanted to report her. Up until that moment I was calm and collected. But suddenly I was furious. I was furious at the fact that we had been sitting in a waiting room for way longer than we should have. I was furious at that fact that many seriously ill people had been sitting in the waiting room for hours because the nurse was picking and choosing who she wanted to go and be treated based on the way people were dressed, the color of their skin, or their religion. I was probably feeling angry because at that point I was tired and a bit irritable.The kind lady left, and once again it was just my mom and I. Hour ten finally comes, and my mom decides its time for us to leave. Before we leave though she decides to go up to the rude nurse, and tell her how rude and nasty she is. Everyone in the waiting room is watching and I’m feeling a little embarrassed, but at the same time I feel like this lady deserves it. It wasn’t right for her to treat anyone the way she had. It was in that moment that she decided to send us back to see a doctor, just to hush my mother …show more content…
We gathered our belongings, and entered the horrid waiting room once again. The rude nurse was still there and I could see her given my mother and I a dirty look as we walked out of the hospital so I turned around and waved. I didn’t look back for her reaction. But it gave me some sort of satisfaction. The whole time we were in the hospital, I felt helpless and useless. I wanted to stand up to the nurse, I wanted her to see what she was doing was wrong. But what could I do I was just a 15 year old girl. I would be seen as rude or ghetto, no one would see what I was trying to say. They wouldn’t be able to see past the color of my skin. My mother would be upset to, because she wants my sister and I to always respect adults. So I sat and sat for hours my anger rising with each passing minute silently. I wished I could do something but there was nothing I could