‘How about one of Amelia’s sisters showing up at the hospital because Amelia wouldn’t return any of their calls and Meredith and Owen stand up for Amelia?’
It was a busy day in the ER of the Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital. 2 buses collided with each other bringing in mass casualties into the ER.
Both Owen Hunt and April Kepner have been attending nonstop to the steady influx of patients for the past 7 hours or so- and both were tired and worn out. Amelia Shepherd too had been paged to the ER for consult after consult and had been running back and forth from the ER to the OR.
Now standing at the nurses station in the ER and writing notes on the chart of a patient she just reviewed- Amelia just wished for her shift to be over already. She had 2 more long hours to go.
’ Dr Shepherd.’ a nurse approached her.
’ Is it regarding the patient in bed 4?’ Amelia asked without looking up from the chart. ’ I thought I told you to check her blood sugar levels- her current episode of dizziness might be due to hypoglycemia.’
’ Errmmm…. I checked already, it is 6.5 which is normal.’ the nurse replied quickly. ’ But I just wanted to let you know that there’s someone looking for you.’
Amelia’s eyebrows furrowed. She was not in the mood for random visitors right now- who the hell might it be? She couldn’t think of anyone who would come to visit her….. Except maybe Addison or Charlotte? She brightened up at the prospect of it being either one of them- she missed them so much.
’ Who is it?’ she asked. ’ Male or female? Did they mention their name?’
’ It’s a female and I’m sorry but I didn’t ask for her name. She’s standing at door leading to the lobby.’
Amelia walked towards the door….and stayed rooted to her spot when she saw who it was.
I hate it that I live in a society where there is such a thing as having an ‘advantage’ because of the color of your skin, I hate that those sisters had to sit there at that table and feel pain because of the color of my skin, I hate that the brother that I talked about in the article that was angry at me simply because my skin was white, because my skin caused him pain. The difference (in black people being “racist”) is that black people are operating out of anger, out of hurt, white people are reacting out of a superiority there’s nothing for you to be angry at. Why are you angry at black people? Black people are angry because of the oppression.
Join us for “The Persistence of Performance” talks as part of FIAF / French Institute Alliance Française’s Crossing the Line festival, featuring Fred Moten, Lin Hixson with Matthew Goulish, and Kathleen C. Stewart.
Nina Moore never thought of herself as a white woman. Sure she was pale with eyes bluer than a windswept sky. But until her move from metropolitan Los Angeles to small-town Glendale, Arizona, it didn’t bother her when people perceived her as anything other than what she was: a proud black woman.
Now she is forced to face several painful truths: her color struck fiance is suffering from jungle fever; Ahmad, the handsome, intriguing, and recently released ex-convict and struggling single father won’t give her the time of day; and a terrifying nightmare seems to be taking over her life. And a disturbing family secret that no one will talk about is threatening to unravel her identity–an identity she is not prepared to live without.
Yet neither Nina nor Ahmad realize that the tumultuous circumstances that are forcing them together are about to unlock mysteries form the past–which, in turn, can open doors to a future they never thought possible.
I am as radiant as the sun, embroidery, Kathleen Gros, 2015
This embroidered (cross stitched) tryptic is what I have been working on for the past two and a half months. In person, the gold and silver thread is much more evident. I don’t think I mentioned anything about it on here because I don’t really like posting “in-progress” stuff too much. Blood, sweat and tears literally went into these, although the blood later turned out to be chocolate milk.
This work was a personal exploration in a medium I’ve become totally enamoured with–embroidery. The contemplative act of stitching is thoroughly engrossing. The subject matter of the piece emerged from considering narcissism as self-love, and inner turmoil, among other things. Regardless, I’m quite pleased with how these turned out. They will be in this year’s Grad Exhibition at Emily Carr University of Art and Design, starting in May.
My final crit on this piece is today. I hope it goes well.