Please read the following by this Doctor, I've posted the source below:
Mr Michael Okocha, BSc (Hons), MBBS, MSc, MRCS, MAcadMEd
General Surgery Registrar, North Bristol NHS Trust
Please allow me to share a few snippets apologies if I ramble. I am also aware that I have friends and connections who have gone through worse trauma than me. But trauma is trauma, these are just a few snippets
At 5 a Beckenham primary school teacher had it out for me and Alaistair, the only two black kids in the school. If we were reading, working, playing in the playground we could only do wrong. I didn’t understand what it was at the time, but I remember asking my parents if I was a bad kid.
At 9 I remember playing football at lunch time in a London school and a kid kicked a ball at a window. I was the only black kid playing and Ms G singled me out and made me sit down. I picked at the tarmac and flicked it away, she turned round, saw me and said I was throwing rocks at her. It was the first and last detention I ever got. I told my parents what happened and how I had been singled out, and I remember having the “it’s different for Black boys and girls” conversation. I remember my Grandma telling me that I needed to be extra careful with who I played and where I played. After this I stayed in the library most lunch breaks till I left the college.
At 10 my Dad was the Psychiatrist for the defence during the Steven Lawrence case - I had police escorts at school and reporters in my face for weeks. We had utter filth shouted at us, posted through the door, and at school people would echo words the racist British media had printed, just to see my reaction.
At 11 I remember cycling down our street from a summer club and a van full of white males slowing down to throw things and call me the N word. I remember cycling as fast as I could and them following me screaming and laughing. The followed me for the length of the street, around a roundabout and up to the barriers of the cycle path at Langley Park School where I sought refuge. I remember my mum holding me as I cried. And till today I can hear their voices and feel the debris hitting my back.
At 14 I remember the embarrassment at The Game store in Glades as the white mall security guard saw me coming out and asked to check the contents of my bag. The sensor hadn’t gone off. 14 was also the first time I was stopped and searched by the police whilst out with a friend.
At 15 I remember the random locker searches they started doing at our school that weren’t random. I remember that a couple of the white students decided it was ok to call us the N word. I remember that we used to have playground teams based on race. I remember the school pushed us all into athletics and Mr M telling us this is where our futures were. I remember so many times where I could have fought back but my Dad had hammered home that a detention on a white boy’s record looks “rebellious” and very different to detention on a black boy’s record which said “trouble”.
At 16 I remember my first date with a girl called Nel, the disapproving looks on the bus in Crystal palace, and someone asking her if she was ok - she was white. I remember my mum having the birds and bees talk with me, except it was about making sure I never put myself in a compromising situation and that prison was full of young black boys who thought they were in love until the white girls parents found out.
At 17 I volunteered at St Christopher’s hospice for medical experience, you could either have a patient facing role or kitchen role and remember all the ethnic people being put in the kitchen whilst the white volunteers got to work on the wards.
At 18 I remember getting lost in my Peugeot 206 and circling a roundabout in Croydon as the sat nav caught up. I remember the flash of blue and suddenly I was out of my car whilst it was searched by officers. I was saved by my Tom-Tom that kept saying “redirecting redirecting”.
At 19 I remember a friend and I being called gangsters (we were wearing smart shirts and jeans) and not being allowed in a club (Fabric London) even though groups of white men were going in ahead of us. I remember going to DJ at Ministry of Sound 999 event and being stopped and checked repeatedly asked if I had a knife on me as white kids walked in.
At 21 I remember walking back from Inamo London with my gf at the time, and a group of white guys stopped us in the street. I’ve never heard so much filth come out of people’s mouths. I felt so helpless as they brought her to tears. We were rescued by another couple walking down the street but before they left they made sure I knew I was a N***
At 22 during my mini SSC (medical student experience block) in Nicosia -Cyprus, whilst I was walking home from placement a car pulled up. The N word was thrown around as 2 white males got out of the car. Threats of death, and brandishing of objects. This sent me back to being 11, I ran to the nearest shop. And once back in my apartment cried the same without the parental comfort.
At 24 I had the privilege of being in Chicago for my clinical years. I also had the privilege of being followed in shops (as I wore my scrubs as protection from suspicion- or my ST GEORGES HOSPITAL MEDICAL SCHOOL jacket). I had the pleasure of being questioned by the police as I got on the L train . I had the pleasure of being escorted to a police station and called an N*** by a police officer for doing a u turn at a dead end. I ended up going to court to defend the ticket. The white judge dismissed the ticket, asked me what I was doing in the states, and when I said medicine he gave me the patronising good for you speech and told me I spoke very well.
At 25 I started my F1 (first year of being a doctor) in Plymouth, I cannot tell the number of times people wanted to “see the doctor”, gave me their food orders, called me “boy”. But I can tell you the two times the police stopped me driving on my way back home. I can tell you about being called "a bi N***" in a club, and you would not believe the number of white people that came up to me asking if I was selling drugs.
On my stag do we had pre-booked entry for Pryzm in Cardiff. When we arrived the club the owner initially turned us away, only letting us in after he gave us a talk about making sure there was no trouble. During this time about 30 white males in groups had entered the club.
At 27 in Taunton I left a cinema because some kids kept chanting the N word. When I say kids I mean 14-16 year old children. Musgrove park hospital is the most amazingly friendly hospital, but it was my senior colleague at the time, Dr Matt Hodder, who had to put racist patients in their place. I had a patient who refused my medical reviews, and I had a patient who called me “boy” repeatedly despite me asking him to stop. Both times Matt told them if they continued they’d have to answer to him.
I cannot count the number of times I’ve been asked where I’m from, no where are you really from, no what’s your heritage, ah Nigerian, let me tell you about this time I was in Africa or this thing I know about African people. My favourites are the patronising “good for you”, and “wow you’re a doctor, that’s really amazing” or “are you here for extra training" or "when are you going back”. I’ve had nurses ask me when I’m coming to collect and transfer patients, I’ve had consultants not realise I’m a junior doctor and I’ve had white people explain that they too get mistaken for things and that I shouldn’t take it to heart.
More recently I’ve been told I speak "really good English", I’m soft spoken “for a big black guy”, I’ve been told that now’s a really good time in orthopaedics for people like you, what dads? No black guys. I’ve asked how I managed to get a Reg training number and do so well - as if I didn’t put in the work. I’ve been singled out by a colleague, I’ve been ignored at the desk in a store.
I’ve grown up with a cloud of daily micro racial aggressions. I feel like I will always have something to prove, I will always make sure I’m the hardest worker in the room to fight every single racial stereotype. My Mum always said you need to worker harder than the best white kid to even be noticed. I never know if I've been passed up on an opportunity because I wasn’t good enough, they just didn’t like me, or because of Race.
I’m one of privileged, my parents suffered and worked so hard so that I had to confront less racism. I can’t even begin with what we experienced on family holidays. I can’t begin to tell you some of the hurtful racist things older English White people have said straight to my face. I can’t tell you the number of things young white English people have said. Every day we log on to our social media to see cultural appropriation, black people being killed or brutalised, and an overwhelming white narrative. Diversity is beautiful. Equality is a basic human right.
I’m tired of the narrative that there is no racism in the UK and things aren’t that bad if you’re a model citizen.
I can tell you of the welcoming and love I have experienced from my extended white Welsh family here in the UK and in Iowa. I can tell you of white work and university friends (like the amazing Chloe Foote and Adam Briki) who reached out to check on me in this time. And I can tell you of my childhood neighbours John and Pat who treated me like one of their own grandchildren for years. In these moments you forget that you’re black, you’re just a soul interacting with another soul.
Unity and Freedom. Equality and Peace.
www.change.org/p/uk-parliament-change-the-curriculum-celebrate-ethnicity-and-diversity-in-uk-schools-b7f8d949-024b-4c2a-8da8-0d9511ce34e8?utm_content=cl_sharecopy_22631684_en-GB%3Av3&recruiter=919697326&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=copylink&utm_campaign=share_petition&utm_term=psf_combo_share_initial&use_react=false&fbclid=IwAR0UzwhRhj5rp-i-qY4hqTuku_mlvEFvSYbvNe45Y6GLuRlD7F_Z7l5r11o