Dr. Vivien Thomas

Ahhh, I have a new favorite movie. Something the Lord Made with Mos Def and Alan Rickman. It's the story of a young apprentice who worked alongside Dr. Alfred Blalock, the first surgeon to ever perform heart surgery. Pretty amazing when you consider all the cardiac surgery departments that now exist. Over 1.75 million heart surgeries are performed every year in this country. In 1930 it was accepted to be impossible. But what was so striking for me about the story was not so much the remarkable accomplishments of Dr. Blalock, those speak for themselves.

I am struck by the tale of a man, so humble, intelligent and honorable. Vivien Thomas had a passion--a passion for medicine, scientific discovery, for helping people, and living out his dreams. In spite of the racism, the scrutiny and the oft-times debasing encounters he had at Johns Hopkins University and in the social gatherings of those considered more highly than he, he continued to strive in the way of his passion. The "Dr." salutation was a long time coming, a very long time coming as revealed by the film, but it belongs to him. I admire his wife's loyalty, her ability to see something bigger than herself and to truly believe in her husband, in deed (even if not in the deepest crevices of thought).

The poignant story touched me more deeply than anything I've seen recently. It took me back to the times of the early 20th century, 1930, when ambition and purpose seemed more prevalent among us. After years of subordinacy, we edged our way into an existence of resistance. We knew what we were fighting against--social, moral and intellectual inferiority, degradation, low expectations, and absurd declarations of "insolvency." People like Thomas and his family developed within their families a sense of pride, and purpose. His grandfather's quote was: "I spent too much time showing you gratitude for freedom when I wasn't really free."

To watch how the doctors, especially those other than Blalock, responded to Thomas' mere presence with disdain and disbelief--agh! I shuddered, saying so many times to myself, "I can't watch this; I can't watch this." Yet he pressed on, making contributions to the doctor's work that enabled his work to even exist. So emblematic of how this country--it's greatest feats, its premier status--was and is built on the backs of the people!

I appreciate the doctor's own determination, his boldness, ability to face all that opposition, discouragement and envy, yet still employ Thomas--trust his judgment, and honor his skill, albeit to a very low degree considering his actual talent and skill. Beneath his worth, if you will.

The quote that probably touched me to the very most from that beautiful movie was when Thomas said, "To the world I am invisible. I thought it was different in here [the lab]." I am invisible. To the world I am invisible. I do not matter. I do not show up in pictures. When the camera man comes, I am uninvited. When the commendations go forth, my name is an unwelcome vapor. I am invisible. He contributed so much, provided the guidance, the foundation, the research to all that was being accomplished, yet he was invisible. Appalling.

I am reminded of Langston Hughes' declaration:

I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.

Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—

I, too, am America.

Bless God. I can't wait to tie this all together for a lesson in my class, with the students who have lost touch with the struggles of the past, who believe the only thing to resist is education, school, family, structure--all those things which proved our greatest strengths throughout history. I remember we read A Lesson Before Dying and the students grew engaged in a way I hadn't seen before. They were excited about their (our) history, and empowered by the strengths of the characters. I look forward to helping that happen again.