To hear her family's history is to hear the history of race in this country. Her grandfather was a physician but, because he was black, was not allowed to practice in hospitals. Her father was the first African-American surgical resident at the Jersey City Medical Center in New Jersey but was not allowed to sleep in the residence hall with the other physicians -- he was told to sleep in the basement.

Verna Gibbs, who talked of her family's heritage in a recent Brown Bag Lecture titled "Mighty Docs," will tell you that her struggle is nothing in comparison with that of her father and grandfather. However, she won't tell you that race is no longer an issue in American society or in health care. "Race matters in the delivery of health care and probably in the delivery of everything else," Gibbs said. "It determines what treatment options are offered patients. It determines what outcomes can be expected."

Gibbs says she often translates and interprets medical decisions and treatment options made by other doctors with African-American patients to help them make informed decisions about the care that they can receive. "Care is best performed when the doctor and patient can communicate openly and effectively," she said.

The only African-American surgeon at the Veterans Affairs Medical Center in San Francisco and the only female African-American faculty member in UCSF's department of surgery, Gibbs has continued her family's legacy of "making a difference."

All three Drs. Gibbs overcame many obstacles to become physicians. Her grandfather lived in a time when African-Americans were economically disadvantaged and lived in separate communities from whites. He was orphaned and on his own at age 13 but became a man of remarkable achievement. "He was a rare and talented person," said Gibbs. "He was knowledgeable of the classics, he spoke Greek and Latin, he played the piano and he was very dedicated in his life's work." At age 10 her father overcame a life-threatening gunshot wound, which forced him to spend four months in the hospital, alone. He eventually became a surgeon and the first African-American chief of surgery at the Jersey City Medical Center.

Verna Gibbs also overcame a life-threatening injury when she was young. When she was 10 years old she was hit by a car. Her father came from seeing patients and brought her home instead of to a hospital. "Imagine my mother's surprise when she came home from work and found me lying on the bed with a note taped to my shirt telling her to watch me urinate," she said. "The instructions were to look at my urine and if there was blood I had to go to the hospital but if it was yellow, I was going to be OK."

Gibbs credited both the early experience of a life-threatening incident and the genetic makeup of her family as her and her father's motivations for becoming physicians. But the difficulties associated with reaching that goal differed quite drastically among "the Doctors Gibbs." Whereas her grandfather's issues were those of "survival," and her father had to deal with segregation and a hostile racial climate, Gibbs says her struggles had to do with being a beneficiary of affirmative action.

"I'm a product of affirmative action. I relish and cherish the opportunity -- I've had the best education this country could afford and I'm here to make use of that education," she said in an interview after the lecture, which was part of UCSF's celebration of Black Heritage Month. But, she added, it creates a certain stigma, having benefited from these opportunities. "I know many African-American teachers or professors feel that by coloring the experience always in terms of 'well, you only got there because you're an African-American,' deflates the value, if you will, that there is to it," she said. "African-Americans are here to do exactly the same thing that European-Americans are here for and we want to have equal recognition for those things."

Being not only African-American but also a woman creates a unique situation for Gibbs, one in which she says she has to choose her battles carefully. "The classic thing is that you're always caught between this choosing of allegiance. Are you choosing your allegiance because you're a woman or do you choose your allegiance because of your race," Gibbs said. "I often find that I'll have to back down on race to win a victory in gender or back down on gender to win a victory in race. That's just a fact of life."

Gibbs came to UCSF in 1979 for her surgery residency and worked under Robert Allen, the first African-American graduate of the UCSF surgery residency program and currently a professor of surgery at UCSF. It turns out that Allen had studied at Florida A&M, the college Gibbs' great grandfather, as a member of the Florida state legislature, founded.

Gibbs High School in Little Rock, Arkansas is named after another relative, one for whom she feels a special affinity. Miflin Wistar Gibbs, her great, great, great granduncle, came to San Francisco in 1850 with 60 cents in his pocket, and eventually became prosperous. Even though he became a well-respected resident, he wasn't recognized as a citizen in California. He became active in the struggle for basic civil rights for African-Americans. The only one of her ancestors who lived in California, his photo is tacked onto a bulletin board outside of Gibbs' lab at the VA.

"He tried to make a difference in earning recognition for basic rights," Gibbs said. "I look at his picture every time I walk into the lab and I say 'Hi, Uncle Miflin. I'm trying to make a difference. Thank you for watching over me. You've come back to San Francisco in another life for another go-round.'"

This article is part of an occasional Daybreak series on diversity.

by Paula Murphy

1st appeared 2/19/98

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