"A Lady Physician of Medicine"

Brooklyn, New York, 1952. I described earlier—here and here—how some doubted Mom's medical training. Mom hired a lawyer to expedite receipt of her medical-school paperwork. Here's the transcript the university supplied when Mom applied for an Illinois license.

A Closer Look (Part 50)

Brooklyn, New York, August 1952. My Mom and my Dad's cousin take a lunch break.

During this time, Mom was an intern at Wyckoff Heights Hospital. In the early 1950s, there were no EMTs. Instead, interns rode the ambulance runs. Mom made many emergency trips throughout New York City. A number of those emergencies were deliveries. It was policy to discourage delivery in the ambulance. Physicians were to determine whether the expectant mother could be transported safely to the hospital. Mom, who still spoke little English, remembers many trips during which she spent most of the ride yelling, "Mama! No Push!!" Mom once decided labor was too far along for the mother to make it to the hospital, so she delivered the baby in an apartment bathroom. A story about that event made it into the newspaper.

Here's the original post.

A Small Gathering

Brooklyn, New York, 1954. My Dad's cousin and one of my Mom's hospital colleagues visit my maternal Grandfather, Jake.

Distorted, but Clear

A double exposure or some funky reflections distort a few of the faces in this shot. It's clear, however, that my Mom—on the far right—is quite happy here, as an intern. Contrast her expression in this image with the ones from her days as a lab tech.

Wyckoff Heights Hospital, Brooklyn, New York, 1952. My Mom eats with other interns and attendings. Despite the grueling schedule—Mom was on call, and required to be on-site, for a 72-hour shift, and then she was off for 24 hours—Mom loved this job. The hospital also provided free meals when physicians were on call. After lacking food during the war years, Mom indulged on the free hospital food. She initially gained about twenty pounds.

Office Party

My Mom's first job in the United States was as a lab technician at Wyckoff Heights Hospital. Her diploma had not yet arrived from Erlangen, and hospital administrators did not believe that Mom was a medical-school graduate.

These were not especially happy times for Mom because some folks thought she was being pretentious when she said she was a physician. How, after all, could a woman be a doctor? Mom also had a bumpy road at this time because she was still learning the English language, and many slang phrases and nuances flew over her head.

Wyckoff Heights Hospital, Brooklyn, New York, 1950. My Mom, on the far left, tries to muster up a toast with her colleagues in the laboratory.

*     *     *     *     *

Wyckoff Heights Hospital, Brooklyn, New York, 1950. I don't know what was the occasion for the party, but it certainly looks like the male is in charge of this coop.

Thank you, Nurse A

My Mom found that it was not easy being a female physician in the United States in the 1950s.

She remembers the colleagues, especially those at Wyckoff Heights Hospital, who eased the path for her. Many such colleagues were nurses who helped Mom with her English, patiently explained techniques to her, and made Mom feel like a professional.

Brooklyn, New York, Summer 1952. My Mom especially recalls the kindnesses of "Nurse A."

Mondays are, after all, just workdays.

Brooklyn, New York, August 1952. My Mom takes a lunch break from her workday as an intern at Wyckoff Heights Hospital.

The Cohort of 1951

When my Parents arrived in Brooklyn, New York in 1949, neither one of them spoke English. They consequently had trouble finding work. Relatives who had emigrated to the United States earlier than my Parents urged Mom to scan the want ads in the Journal of the American Medical Association. Problem: she couldn't read English, and she didn't know how to fill out a job application.

There were no English-language classes for immigrants. Mom and Dad learned to read English by borrowing library books. They started with children's literature. My Mom felt that her English was proficient when she fluidly digested the works of Charles Dickens and Jane Austen.

Mom landed her first job at Wyckoff Heights Hospital. The hiring staff there didn't believe that she was a physician, so they initially placed Mom in the lab, where she worked as a technician. When her medical-school paperwork arrived from Germany, the staff acknowledged her diploma and started calling her "Dr." instead of "Mrs."

There were only three women in Mom's internship cohort. All three women were recent immigrants.

Brooklyn, New York, 1951. My Mom—the woman on the far left—sits among the other interns.

Ladies, please fold your hands.

Role Model

When my Mom started practicing medicine, there were few "women doctors." During her 72-hour intern shifts, there was no place in the hospital for her to take a nap: the doctors' "bunk areas" were reserved for "men only."

Mom had to walk across the street and sleep in the nurses' dormitories.

Brooklyn, New York, August, 1952. My Mom, an intern at Wyckoff Heights Hospital, stands with my Dad's cousin. Check out the shoes.