Doctors on a Morning Zoom Call
File under Equality.
As a doctor, my wife got dragged into being on a committee—one of those committees no one wants to be on and isn’t part of anyone’s job description, but some administrative stuff needs to get done and so a number of people have to “get volunteered,” dedicate their time—in this case early mornings—and debate some stuff, sign off on some stuff, and practice a bit of watered-down Robert’s Rules of Order type dialogue.
The group had for a long time been all male. The head of the group, a doctor my wife knows pretty well, was persuaded to ask her to join the committee because of the gender disparities. Think: “we need one of you for the optics.”
Fine. Whatever. Yes, she’ll represent the entire female contingency of doctors at her hospital. It doesn’t hurt to have her voice in the room. Despite the Zoom meetings (video off, microphone toggled on and off) taking place in the kitchen while she’s making breakfast for herself, helping to make school lunches for our children, and dealing with the normal levels of chaos that happens to a family getting ready for elementary and middle school.
Should there be more women on the committee? Sure. Are there probably plenty of reasons why any other female doctor isn’t on the committee? Also: sure. Yeah. It’s not balanced. But that’s not going to be on the forefront of agenda items for a committee of all-but-one male doctors who are volunteering their time in the mornings.
The head of the meeting goes through attendance. It’s a bit of a formality since he and everyone else can see everyone’s blacked out screen on the zoom meeting and read the names:
-Doctor [Last Name]?
-Here.
-Doctor [Last Name]?
-Here.
-Doctor [Last Name]?
-Here.
He gets to my wife’s name and calls her by her first name.
She turns on her microphone.
-Here.
As quickly turns the microphone off again.
The list continues.
-Doctor [Last Name]?
-Here.
-Doctor [Last Name]?
-Here.
through the rest of the list.
It’s actually one of our daughters who notices first.
“Mommy, he called you by your first name and didn’t say ‘Doctor.’”
The realization hits. The low simmer of rage builds, then passes, but the observation is out there and there’s a frustrating lesson for my wife to revamp here:
Yes, he didn’t address me as “Doctor.” Maybe because he knows me. And everyone on the call is a physician, so everyone should already know I’m a doctor too.
In the big scheme of things, maybe it isn’t a big deal. But, yeah, it’s just another omission of respect, one of countless tiny cuts against their status that women experience every day.
Is it misogyny maybe is it intentional probably not I don’t know is it passive aggressive who can say is it sexist maybe yes probably not who knows did he mean it did anyone else on the call notice is it worth bringing up no yes no is it silly to get upset or make a big deal of it is this an example of a micro-aggression should we address it with our children who are to various degrees listening in to what is happening and if they weren’t before they are now…
If you were the token female on a call of all doctors—some of whom you know well, others you don’t know at all excerpt by the sounds of their voices in these meetings—would you say something? What are reactions you’re likely to get if you do?
What do you say to your third grade daughter, who noticed the discrepancy while you are adding carrot sticks and goldfish crackers to her school lunch?
Anyway, here’s a one-minute video of gently flowing water in a spring brook aside a trail in a local town park. In this video, no one talks, and no one treats you with less respect than everyone else.