After making incisions around the scalp and peeling the skin
back, I make a cut at the top of his skull like a trap door, revealing the super computer in his
cranium. Brain tissue, bone, and blood cover my latex gloves.
During the operation, we are speaking. I must make sure that none of my movements cause the
expulsion of his cognitive abilities. This job requires coordination and skill like no other.
For twelve years I’ve been studying the human brain, first at University, then Medical School.
Graduation was the best day of my life, and now I am saving lives.
How I love this job so, working with the magnificent bundle of cells that is the brain.
I went through so much to get here; exams, stress, prejudice, and financial hardship. This
Job is what I’ve dreamt of doing since I could remember. I’ve
Kept on a straight path, and persevered through my studies. The only things I regret are the
Loans, loans, loans, loans loans.
My story does not have to end this way.
Now is the perfect
opportunity to help a budding doctor in need.
Power Poetry- help me succeed against the odds to become a black, female brain surgeon. One
question asked was “What type of support do you need to make that dream job a reality?” Well, in
reality, I need money to afford tuition, room and board this year.
So, I know you’re wondering “What happened to the man on the operating table?”
The entire tumor was removed and he lived many years after his life expectancy. Thanks to
us- me, and the person reading this poem ; the person who saw my potential. I’m –
Very glad you took the time to read until the end.
What I want most-is to become a neurosurgeon- and knowledge of fitting words that start with
“Y” , or
“Z for this alphabet poem. I apologize for that.