I am a Xennial and am pretty confident that you both are as well. Let me tell you why.
The other day while I walked to work, I deliberately slowed my pace to allow time for my left hand to lightly graze the brick wall I was passing. I watched as my fingers ebbed and flowed through every groove and imperfection. There was a familiarity to this. Perhaps it was the texture, perhaps the grit. Either way, memories emanated as I was no stranger to brick walls. Over the years as I pursued a career in medicine, my hands had gotten quite used to dismantling them.
As COVID numbers spike, scientists have identified another potentially fatal risk to America’s healthcare workers and to Black Americans known as the Karen. The Karen belongs to its own unique viral family that surfaced around seventy years ago. Since that time, it has silently multiplied at exponential rates. The Karen is erratic, unpredictable, and favors no particular environment, making it impossible to know where it lies. DNA analysis demonstrates in infected hosts an over-expression of the proteins responsible for hate, ignorance, and moral turpitude. Though scientists are hopeful for the development of a vaccination to eradicate it, they surmise this will not occur any time soon.
Remember when you discovered you were going to be a parent? The moment you learned that inside you, was another life? Remember the incredible fear and excitement you felt all at the same time? All you worried about was whether or not you would be a good mother. Do you remember when?
The first time Dylan and I spoke in person, we were face to face but separated by thousands of miles. We had met two days prior to this when I received my first communication from her. Three weeks ago, after an essay I wrote was published detailing the truth of America’s broken healthcare system, I began receiving hundreds of emails from other healthcare workers all across the country recounting horror stories of maltreatment at the hands of the healthcare system. Dylan’s email was among them.