Lifestyle
Following in her mom's footsteps, a doctor fights to make medicine more inclusive
Dr. Uché Blackstock is the author of Legacy: A Black Physician Reckons With Racism In Medicine.
Diane Zhao/Penguin Random House
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Diane Zhao/Penguin Random House
Dr. Uché Blackstock is the author of Legacy: A Black Physician Reckons With Racism In Medicine.
Diane Zhao/Penguin Random House
When Dr. Uché Blackstock was a medical student at Harvard, she had a near-death experience that gave her a sobering outlook on the state of medical care in the U.S. Suffering from excruciating stomach pain, Blackstock took herself to the E.R., where, after hours of waiting, she was told she had a stomach bug and sent home.
But in days that followed, Blackstock felt worse; it would take two more E.R. visits before she was diagnosed with appendicitis. Because it took so long for the diagnosis, her appendix ruptured, requiring emergency surgery, followed by a painful recovery that sent her back to the hospital. Later Blackstock was left to wonder: Would her treatment have been different if she weren’t Black?
“It really took a few years of processing what had happened for me to recognize that it may have been because I was a young Black woman that this diagnosis got missed,” Blackstock says.
Blackstock is the founder and CEO of Advancing Health Equity. In her new book, Legacy: A Black Physician Reckons With Racism In Medicine, she explores systemic inequity in health care, tracing its origins back to the beginnings of Western medicine and to her own experiences as a medical student and doctor.
In March 2020, during the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic, Blackstock was one of the first medical professionals to raise the alarm that the virus was having a disproportionate impact on minority communities.
“For years, we’ve been talking about the Black maternal mortality crisis. But in terms of COVID’s impact on Black communities, that conversation had not started yet,” Blackstock says. “So I wrote my first op-ed on what I was worried about would happen to our communities from COVID within the first two weeks – before the end of March.”
But Blackstock is optimistic about the next generation of Black medical students, who she says are pushing for changes to the existing system.
“With the killing of Mr. George Floyd and Ms. Breonna Taylor … a lot of medical schools received demand letters from their Black students about what those students thought we should be learning,” Blackstock says. “I would say medical schools are on their way. They have a tremendous amount of work to do.”
Interview highlights
On her mother, Dr. Dale Gloria Blackstock, who died of leukemia at age 47
My mother was a brilliant woman. She was amazing. She was a trailblazer in her own right. She grew up in central Brooklyn. She had a single mom, she had five siblings, and they grew up in public assistance and so life was always very, very difficult for her. She was the first person in her family to graduate from college and then go on to Harvard Medical School, which is something that she never even probably had thought of as a little girl. But I celebrate her and I celebrate her accomplishments. But I also recognize how both racism and poverty makes the road so much harder, and that there were other brilliant, brilliant children that she grew up with that I’m sure also could have made it to Harvard Medical School and beyond, but did not because of the practices and policies that we have in place that chronically deprive our communities of the resources that they need.
On always wanting to be a doctor because of her mom
This is what happens when you have the most loving mother who is also incredibly well respected by her patients and by her colleagues. So it was sort of like, I think both Oni and I looked at her and said, you know what? We want to be just like her. We also want to be a doctor. And I think also, we were surrounded by Black women physicians: Our pediatrician, all of my mother’s friends, on our block we had other Black women physicians. So it was a reality to me. …
Dr. Dale Gloria Blackstock with her twins, Uché and Oni — both of whom followed in their mother’s footsteps by graduating from Harvard Medical School.
Courtesy of Uché Blackstock
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Courtesy of Uché Blackstock
Dr. Dale Gloria Blackstock with her twins, Uché and Oni — both of whom followed in their mother’s footsteps by graduating from Harvard Medical School.
Courtesy of Uché Blackstock
I’m getting a little emotional, but this book is also an opportunity to give her a voice to people who may not have heard of her or have met her. I always say that when people meet [my twin sister] Oni and me that they’re meeting our mother, because this woman literally poured blood, sweat and tears into us. I think because she had grown up in poverty, because she was the first to go to college and med school, she wanted a very different life for us than she had for herself. And sometimes I worry. I remember when we turned 18, she said, “I’m so tired,” and I don’t know if she may have been in the early stages of her illness then, but she said, “I am so tired. I put so much into you both.”
On how students in medical school are often taught that there is an essential biological difference between Black and white bodies — and how that teaching impacts care
That is sort of the take home-message we get. We’re taught that there are different normal values for kidney functions, that Black patients have a certain set of normal values than non-Black patients. We’re told that about lung function; that there’s a difference between Black patients and non-Black patients. And this isn’t something that is necessarily recent. A lot of these beliefs are centuries or decades old. …
So often you would read a textbook and it would say that the risk factor for diabetes or the risk factor for high blood pressure is race. Race cannot be a risk factor because it’s a social construct. What is the factor is racism or the impact of the practices and policies of systemic racism on our communities and on our health. … A lot of these studies have come out more recently to show that that so-called “race correction” factor that is used for kidney function has actually led to a delay in Black patients being referred to for specialty kidney care. Also, it’s led to delays in putting them on kidney transplant lists. So it’s compromised their care even further. They have not gotten the health care that they need for this chronic and potentially deadly disease. It almost compounds the everyday racism that they face, that there are these beliefs that are inherent within the health care system that prevent them from getting the resources that they need.
On the 1910 Flexner Report, which closed most of the historically Black medical schools in the U.S.
The Flexner Report was a report that was commissioned by the American Medical Association and the Carnegie Mellon Foundation. And essentially they commissioned an educational specialist named Abraham Flexner to go around to the 155 medical schools in the United States and in Canada, and to essentially standardize them, compare them to the standards of Western European medical schools. And so, of course, the Black medical schools, because of the legacy of slavery and the lack of wealth and resources, did not have the resources to remain open. So, essentially, Flexner recommended that five out of seven of those Black medical schools be closed and they were closed, leaving Howard and Meharry. …
In a study that came out in 2020, in the Journal of American Medical Association, it was estimated that those five schools, if they had remained open, would have trained between 25,000 and 35,000 Black physicians. When I read that, I started crying because that is such a large number of health professionals that could have cared for hundreds of thousands, probably even millions of Black patients, who could have mentored medical students, who could have done research in our communities. And so it is a tremendous loss when you think about the closure of those schools. But it also makes sense when you look at the percentages today of Black physicians. We are less than 6% of all physicians in the U.S. – and that is one of the reasons.
On how the Supreme Court’s 2023 ruling against affirmative action may impact Black medical students
I compare it to the Flexner Report. So you have a policy that impacts schools, led to the closure of schools, led to that tremendous number of Black physicians not being educated, essentially eras[ing] them. And I thought about the recent SCOTUS decision, it’s going to affect academic medical centers, it’s going to affect medical schools, and, I think that, long term, if it’s going to affect the diversity within medical schools, then we know that ultimately [it] will affect the number of Black physicians. And we are actually more likely to go back to our own communities to care for patients. We are more likely to work in underserved areas. … We may not see it for generations, but I think that SCOTUS’s decision is going to have a long-term impact on Black health, if medical schools and other higher-education institutions are not able to … have legal workarounds to address those changes in race conscious admissions.
On tangible ways to improve the system
Academic medical centers and medical schools … need to work on focusing on how to train students and residents to adequately and competently care for a diverse patient population. That is your priority, whether it’s in terms of developing curriculum that is focusing on anti-racism, or making sure your faculty understand how to teach in a way that really respects the honor and dignity of all the students that they’re teaching and the patients that they’re going to serve, or even to policymakers, making them understand that health is in all policies. … So I tasked different groups, even white health professionals. I said, this is not just our problem. This is not just the problem of your Black colleagues. This is not just the problem of your Black patients. They are dying prematurely. It is up to you also to speak up. It’s also up to you, to us to work on behalf of our communities. I think ultimately every health professional would say I want the best for my patients, right? But that is not happening.
Sam Briger and Thea Chaloner produced and edited this interview for broadcast. Bridget Bentz, Molly Seavy-Nesper and Carmel Wroth adapted it for the web.
Lifestyle
What a divorce coach wishes couples knew before ending a marriage
Karen McNenny is a certified divorce coach, certified co-parenting specialist and author of the book The Good Divorce: How to End Your Marriage Without Ending Your Family.
Wiley/Jossey-Bass/NPR, Nicole Wickens/NPR
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Wiley/Jossey-Bass/NPR, Nicole Wickens/NPR
When Karen McNenny was facing divorce about 15 years ago, she was afraid of what it would mean for her future: despair, debt and a lifetime of resentment, she says.
At the same time, she was thinking of her two children, she says. She didn’t want their father to become her enemy.
So she and her former husband chose to approach divorce differently as a couple. “We’re going to renovate and transform this family. We’re not going to destroy it,” she says. “The marriage is ending, not your relationship.”
For McNenny, a mediator, certified divorce coach and certified co-parenting specialist, divorce is a tool, not a weapon. She expands on this concept in The Good Divorce: How to End Your Marriage Without Ending Your Family, which came out this spring. The book offers guidance on how to maintain compassionate and respectful ties with a former spouse while also healing and moving forward.
According to Pew Research Center, a third of Americans who have ever been married had a first marriage that ended in divorce. For that reason, McNenny hopes her book becomes a must-read for couples before they get married. “The best time to talk about divorce is before you need to talk about it,” she says.
She shared insights from her book in a conversation with Life Kit. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
The book is called The Good Divorce. What does that mean?
[For those with kids,] the good divorce is about protecting the future of the family while we dissolve the marriage.
After the paperwork is done and the assets have been divided, can you and your co-parent sit on the same side of the bleachers during the basketball game? Can you still see yourselves as a partnership, with the ability to have thoughtful conversations about your kids?
For those who don’t have kids, [the good divorce is] about protecting your health — your mental health and your physical health. If we are doubling down with resentment and bitterness, all of that gets stored in the body and shows up in different ways. You deserve a pathway that’s less destructive.
Let me also be clear: There are times when an amicable, collaborative process is not possible and maybe even inappropriate. For instance, where there’s active addiction, abuse, domestic violence, coercion or unmanaged mental health issues.
How do you get to a place where you don’t feel triggered by your partner, so you both can work together toward a good divorce?
That, my dear, does not happen overnight. That is more like a dimmer switch going up and down and up and down, and the gift of time helps to get there.
It’s a complex emotional journey because we do feel relief in walking away from our spouse and the challenges. But with it, there is extraordinary grief that comes with divorce that I think is often underestimated and undersupported.
If my spouse had died, people would’ve been checking in with me regularly. I never would’ve spent a holiday alone in that first year. There probably would’ve been a meal train.
But he didn’t die. My marriage died, my family structure died, my identity as a wife and a partner died. There’s so much grief through these transformations that come with divorce that we don’t see.
So supporting friends in all those ways that you would as if there had been an actual death is doing a lot for your friends who are going through divorce.
How do you let your friends, family and community know that you’re getting a divorce and that you might need support?
Put a communication strategy together. It’s not just for how we tell the kids. It’s also a communication strategy for the grandparents; to the circle of support around the kids, like teachers, coaches and mentors; and our shared community.
It’s extraordinary when a couple can write that message together, not unlike a marriage announcement. [You might say:] We’ve made a really difficult decision. We wanted to let you know. We’re not going to court. Don’t expect a battle. Please don’t ask us why. Just ask us how we’re doing. We’re on the same side as the kids. You don’t need to pick sides.
In doing so, we’ve given everyone the same information at once. It’s a unified message that comes from the parent team, and it allows your community to know how best to support you. And it takes out all the gossip and wonder about what is going on.
If you have kids and they’re splitting time between two homes, what are some ways to make that change easier for them?
Our kids were 5 and 7 when we divorced, so it was three or four nights at a time in each home. By the time they got to be about 8 or 10, it made sense to go a week in each residence. After COVID, the kids came to us and said, “Can we just have two weeks in a house? We wanna be able to settle in more.” [So we said] OK.
A lot of parents are so rigid about the schedule. There’s no flexibility. That doesn’t serve anyone. So I recommend liberating yourselves from the calendar and letting it grow and bend with your kids appropriately.
Knowing what you know now about divorce, what questions do you think couples should ask themselves before they get married?
So often when people arrive at the threshold of divorce, couples are like, “We don’t know what we’re doing.” Get educated about the business part of it.
There is no harm in having a prenuptial agreement. Even if you decided not to file it, have the conversation about the implications. What does it mean if we buy this house together? What does it mean if one of us works more and one of us works less?
We also underestimate what it means to be roommates. What are your value systems around cooking and cleaning? How much alone time do you need? It’s easy to fall in love and not know if you’re compatible.
Do you think you’d get married again?
I absolutely hope that I get to say yes to a lifelong commitment with a partner, as I believe we often are given the opportunity to become a better version of ourself through partnership.
The story was edited by Meghan Keane. The visual editor is CJ Riculan. We’d love to hear from you. Leave us a voicemail at 202-216-9823, or email us at LifeKit@npr.org.
Listen to Life Kit on Apple Podcasts and Spotify, and sign up for our newsletter. Follow us on Instagram: @nprlifekit.
Lifestyle
‘Alice and Steve’ might be a mess — but it’s also too fun to stop watching
In Alice and Steve, Jemaine Clement and Nicola Walker play long-time friends who turn on each other after he gets involved with her 26-year-old daughter.
Lara Cornell/Disney+
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Lara Cornell/Disney+
I grew up watching episodic shows on network TV, nearly all of them formulaic but some indelibly great. Then, like everyone else, I moved into the days of what my colleague David Bianculli dubbed Platinum TV, where series like The Sopranos and The Wire and Fleabag aspired to something higher. What both these eras had in common was that their shows were carefully crafted — they had an internal logic, and a tone, that held them together.
In recent years, though, there’s been a proliferation of shows that, possibly obeying some algorithm, care less for coherence than sensation. They lurch among tones, from cuteness to sentimentality to meanness, stirring in random plot twists along the way. Bouncing all over the emotional map, these shows depend on compelling actors and a few memorable scenes to make us overlook their loose construction.
A great example is Alice and Steve, an entertaining but sometimes exasperating six-part British comedy on Hulu about two 50-something best friends who turn on each other after he gets involved with her 26-year-old daughter.


While the premise is juicy, it’s also a tad yucky, and I mainly tuned in because its title characters are played by performers Jemaine Clement from Flight of the Conchords and Nicola Walker, whom I’ve raved up on this show more than once.
The series starts poorly with Steve and Alice going on a cutesy bender after a friend’s funeral. Now, I always hate drunk scenes, which are an invitation to overact. As Clement and Walker bray their lines, we learn that Steve’s a divorced celebrity hair stylist who can’t find a girlfriend while Alice is a clothes designer with a doting younger husband, nicely played by Joel Fry, a sweetie-pie of a teenage son — that’s Tyrese Eaton-Dyce — and, of course, that 26-year-old daughter, Izzy, who has inherited her mother’s willfulness. Played by Yali Topol Margalith, Izzy kickstarts the plot by flirting with Steve. Predictably, he succumbs.

Almost immediately, they think they’re in love. While the weak-willed Steve wants to hide their romance — he knows it’s inappropriate — Izzy just blurts out the facts to her mom. Alice flips. And from hereon out in this series where the women are as alpha as the men are hangdog, Alice drives the action. Betrayed and violently angry, she’ll do whatever it takes to break them up — no matter who gets hurt. Her antics unleash Steve’s own malice. We’re in Beef territory.
At its core, Alice and Steve hinges on the way that platonic friendships are often richer and more powerful than romantic ones. It’s a fascinating subject, which may be why I found the script by Sophie Goodhart so frustrating. I wanted her to dig deeper. While the show’s got some very funny bits — Alice’s sharp-tongued mother is a blast — it’s often annoyingly lax.

If Steve really does the hair of Charli XCX, how come he’s a clueless older guy whose pop culture references are Willie Nelson and Woody Allen? If Izzy truly adores her mother as she claims, why does she keep rubbing her relationship with Steve in her mom’s face? Halfway through, one character nukes the other’s career, but this life-shattering event has no real weight: It’s barely even mentioned for the rest of the series.
That said, Alice and Steve is worth seeing for scenes like the one in which Steve spinelessly sells Izzy out or the lacerating discussion between Alice and her husband when he fully grasps that he adores a woman who views him as a reliable but dull concierge, not a man she likes hanging with. Most touching of all may be the lovely sequence when Alice, wise for once, smooths a romantic crisis between her son and his would-be girlfriend, a pair who are the show’s emblem of hope. For once, we understand why people love her.

While most viewers will find Steve more likable than Alice — the show takes pains not to make him appear predatory or creepy — the role doesn’t give Clement a whole lot to do except play variations on shambolic dread and discomfort. The show gets its galvanizing zing from Walker, a beloved star in England with amazing, luminous eyes. Her Alice is the kind of complicated, volcanic heroine that you don’t see in movies and rarely see on TV, one who shows her apocalyptic rage freely and in many different forms.
At least once in every episode, something would lead me to say, “Man, is this show a mess.” But that wasn’t a deal breaker. I kept watching. After all, life is messy, too.

Lifestyle
How to enter your Sporty Spice era : It’s Been a Minute
How to enter your Sporty Spice era.
Getty Images/quantic69/Olga Kurbatova/Anastasiia Zvonary/Photo Illustration by NPR
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Getty Images/quantic69/Olga Kurbatova/Anastasiia Zvonary/Photo Illustration by NPR
Reality dating and professional sports are not as different as you’d think.
Brittany is in her Sporty Spice era – she watched the NBA playoffs, she’s following World Cup games, and she’s watching the New York Liberty play their WNBA season. These games are daily – and so is the reality dating show Love Island. And she noticed that the two formats are not very different at all. Defector.com staff writer and co-owner Kelsey McKinney came to the same conclusion – so the two of them discuss why these games of athleticism and love can bring us together… and why they get valued differently in our culture.
For more episodes on sports and reality TV, check out:
Get rich or die trying: how sports betting is changing our love of the game
Is this the end of reality TV?
The ugly truth of America’s expensive homes
Support Public Media. Join NPR Plus.
Follow Brittany on Instagram: @bmluse
This episode was produced by Liam McBain. It was edited by Neena Pathak. Our Supervising Producer is Cher Vincent. Our Executive Producer is Barton Girdwood. Our VP of Programming is Yolanda Sangweni.
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