The Woman With the Delicate Hands

Jonanne Talebloo

Staff Writer

“I can’t thank you enough. You taught me what it means to be an incredibly elegant woman and a go-getter simultaneously. Thank you for being my role model throughout residency and helping me shape the woman and surgeon I am today. Through my residency, I had the privilege of learning the art of dentistry from you. I noticed something different about you than the other faculty members. Not only do you have an immense amount of love for what you do, but you love people and truly live your life to help others. And I have tried to embody that. Thank you. I owe you everything” I heard a crying lady exclaim through the phone. “Oh, baby. I’m so proud of you. I always knew you would start the leading clinic in New Orleans. I never had any doubt.”

She’s talking about MY mom? I thought to myself, sitting at the kitchen table acting enticed by the math problems on my computer screen and pretending that I wasn’t eavesdropping on the conversation. The warm spring sun found its way through the window and onto my screen producing a bright glare that gave me even more reason to not focus on the content in front of my eyes and rather tune into the sound of the phone conversation across the room. While listening, an inner dialogue ran through my head.

I have always known my mom to be an elegant individual. I have always known her to have a pure heart. I remember visiting the free clinic my mother and her coworkers would devote time to each year as a little girl. I loved watching my mother with her co-workers bounce from one patient to the next, never losing energy and never greeting anyone with anything less than a glistening beam. I was absolutely in awe watching the group of dentists work so closely together to help one suffering patient after the next. A patient’s pained face would light up at the sound of each light-hearted joke my mother would make to calm them down. I saw how my mom would put a knowing hand on the shoulder of a patient, and how the patient would instantly relax. I noticed it with myself too. Her delicate hand on my shoulder would instantly blow away my worries. People felt safe in her presence. And that is because she distributes her energy. It’s something many are unwilling to do.

Many don’t realize the remarkable difference between giving something physically versus giving your energy to someone outside of yourself. My mother is the individual to not only share her time but to be there for people emotionally, whether it be for her patients, her children, or just an individual she meets on the sidewalk. This admiration I have towards my mother’s willingness to give has only grown as I have grown older. However, when I looked outside of myself, I didn’t see society reciprocate and see the things I see in her.

I always believed she was misunderstood by those around her. Immigrating from Iran, she still has a slight imprecise sound at the end of her words indicating that she is not originally American. As I grew older, I began to notice the bothered faces of my friends’ parents when they heard the slight accent in my mom’s voice. As the only Persian American in my entire K-12 school in New Orleans, the fact that my parents and I were slightly out of place always lingered in the back of my mind.

Though my friends’ parents didn’t take the time to remember whether we were Arabs or Persians, my mother always took it with a grain of salt. She would gently smile and correct them knowing that it was not worth while to argue with voluntary ignorance. When individuals in my majority-white small school in uptown New Orleans would voice their criticism and dislike for the religion of Islam, my mother realized our family would not be easily accepted. Instead, she gained respect through her actions. And those that originally voiced their concerns, grew to learn the importance of understanding the individual with their personality, values, and passions rather than judging them at face value. This new standard of acceptance that my mother helped normalize in a gentle and calm manner at my school greatly impacted me throughout my education and schooling experience.

This value is one that I hold close and strive to incorporate into each of my actions. My mother is my inspiration because even when she is put into a difficult environment, she contributes in any way that she can to help create a more accepting and loving community. All in her gentle and delicate manner.