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Frantzy B.

@frantzyb

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Caregiver ➡️ truth-teller. My mom died from endo-cancer + neglect. I expose the grief, harm, and wrongs. For Black women.

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My beautifl manmi is always in my heart and on my mind, but especially on July 1, her birthday. She would have been 68. And she loved her birthday. Whenever I lit a white candle on the anniversary of a death, she said, you light a candle on their birthday because birthdays are about remembering the whole person, not just mourning.

I celebrate the gift of your life and sacrifice. The nurse who everyone admired. The woman who worked double shifts, put everyone first, loved family fiercely, and somehow kept going when life was always asking too much of you. I never stopped to think what it was actually doing to you. What a beautiful life you made for me. And, what a burden you carried.

You deserved to be heard. You deserved urgency. You deserved honesty. You deserved a healthcare system that fought as hard for you as you fought for everyone else. You deserved better care.

I’ve spent two years combing through your medical records like a forensic analyst. Holding back tears when I realized that a 66-year old Black Haitian, woman with cancer, nearing retirement without a significant amount of money wasn’t considered economically viable for a law firm to pursue. I got on the phone with my script, facts, and an opening statement that would have Annalise Keating shook.

Twelve attorneys…twelve… said no even after I worked on new client packets like I was preparing for the bar exam. Always the same shit. “First, you are an amazing advocate for your mom… blah blah blah.” Then, “There likely WAS negligence, but the potential economic risk wasn’t worth the rewards. One told me, “Unfortunately, healthcare isn’t personal. It’s a bunch of checked boxes. Sometimes things don’t go well. And families have to learn to live with it.”

Every red flag I’ve uncovered has only reinforced what I been knew: you deserved better, and so do Black women everywhere.

You said, “You tried so hard.” Manmi I haven’t stopped trying. Gurl, you’re worth more than a million. I hope you’re having a beautiful birthday wherever you are. 📸: @dakotadawk by @frantzyb

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4 months ago

This one’s for Earline Liline Bazile.

My mom, my forever inspiration, nurse, fighter, protector, and victim of a healthcare ecosystem that failed her. Baptist Health Boca Raton Regional Hospital. Lynn Cancer Institute. West Boca Medical Center.

Her story proves that Black women deserve better care, better listening, better protection, better dignity, and better outcomes.

Cancer culture gets flattened into “Fight.” “Ring the bell.” “Survivor.”

But, real life with cancer, especially for Black women, is messier.

She did fight.
She did endure the treatments and complications.
She did ring the bell…

all while living through dismissive doctors, fragmented communication, subtle racism, “prepare for the worst” energy delivered casually from staff (not her oncologist) and being handed off when she was too complicated.

My perspective matters and yours does too because we’re not just talking about profound racial disparities.

We’re asking whether institutions are willing to confront the well documented medical literature and hard truth that race plays a significant and devastating role in Black women’s care.

Gaslighting, paternalism, assumptions about pain and compliance, fragmented care, delays, and how Black families are expected to quietly absorb the trauma.

That’s deeper than disparities.

If this resonates, drop a 🖤 in the comments. Share this. Tag someone who needs to see this.

And, if you or someone you love is a Black woman, the link is in my bio. Slide 1: Vintage photo of a smiling Haitian woman standing beside a car in New York City with text about sharing her story to help Black women demand better care. by @frantzyb

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5 months ago

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6 months ago

With each passing year, and with all the new information coming in and new things happening my memories of us tend to get crowded, but you are never forgotten. #hbd by @frantzyb

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7 months ago

That boy brought his ancestors with him. by @frantzyb

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8 months ago

New York, 2025 July. This year I pushed hustled overfunctioned. Held it together for everyone when I wanted to die. You do not bounce back from that. I went back to where I began the first time without my mom. Her story lives in the Bronx. The city held me and I swear my mom’s footsteps live in the sidewalks. I smiled for the first time in a long time. by @frantzyb

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10 months ago

Christmas 2024 (the first one without my mom). Her whole life was Haitian Vodou culture. A constant part of my upbringing, but I was not allowed to tell anyone that. - Grief lived in my body last year. My chest heavy every day. - When Kem Pa Sote came on, Manmi would sweep her skirt in air and express herself through dance. She loved to dance. So that night I really felt it. - Christmas 2024. 🕯️ by @frantzyb

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10 months ago

Christmas 2024. The beach has always been my healer and safe space. I sat on the sand in my PJ’s with my playlist, my mom’s photo and I wrote her a Christmas card as an offering. by @frantzyb

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10 months ago

Manmi carried the weight of Thanksgiving taking over the kitchen even when her schedule was heavy and her patience thin. That’s what moms do. Thanksgiving will never hit like it used to but I wanted to carry on some of what she would do. by @frantzyb

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a year ago

Video on TT: @kashman2814
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Black women deserve better. Black women deserve healthcare.
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This is what medical racism looks like. It’s not always loud, but dangerous. Even deadly. Dismissal dressed up as discharge. Pain treated as an exaggeration. A preventable death called inevitable. And, no accountability called an “isolated incident.”
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I’m sharing my mother’s story because silence protects the system that killed her and other Black women. Because Karrie Jones’s story sounds too familiar. Because somewhere right now, another Black woman is being told her pain isn’t real.
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Swipe through. Witness what happened. And understand why we can’t stop talking about this.
Her name was Earline. She mattered.
_
#pregnancygram #birthtrauma #blackpregnancy #SayHerName by @frantzyb

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a year ago

Howard Made Me.
Manmi Made Howard Possible.

–

All I heard was:
Howard’s ghetto.
DC’s dangerous.
And, a Black school wasn’t real life.
I applied anyway.

–

NO HBCU tour.
No visits.
I just told Manmi, “ I’m going to Howard University in Washington, DC!”

–

She ain’t flinch.
She called my cousin, an HU alum,
Frantzie’s coming to your school. Can you take her?
Cousin said yes.
Next, I was off to campus in VW Beetle aka Punch Buggy.

–

Three weeks into freshman year,
my dad had a psychotic episode
that changed the trajectory of our family’s life.

–

I found out two weeks later
after it happened.
Manmi didn’t call me.
And, she told no one to call me.
“School first,” she said.
She was deep in lawyers, counselors, and police officers
who threatened to take my siblings away.

–

I planned to quit school and come home to help.
“Frantzieeee Pa fe bouche mwen long,” she said angrily.
She liked growled.
Translation: “Don’t make my mouth long,” or FAFO.

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I stayed.
She helped with Homecoming fits,
or as she called it,
“that lil reunion you go to,”
while she was dealing with
the most difficult years of her life.

–

In 2004, Manmi walks on the Yard for the first time.
“So many Black people!”
“And, quite classy.”
Years later, she bragged,
“You know Oprah was at my daughter’s school.”
She was impressed.

–

That pride and power lived in her.
She was so happy for me.
She called me Franco.
Said, “that girl isn’t scared,”
plus I had “man” energy.
Whatever that means.

–

Last year, I’d been so deep in caregiving,
I forgot about Homecoming.
Manmi died on a Saturday, Homecoming 2024.

–

My friend called to see if I was on the Yard.
I answered, wailing.
I was just walking and walking.
Shocked that manmi was gone.

–

If I I didn’t have manmi’s blessings,
I wouldn’t be there.
She’s the reason I got there.
And, the reason I stayed.
And, the reason I say:
Howard Made Me. Manmi Made Howard Possible.

–

#HUHomecoming #BisonPride #HBCU #Howard by @frantzyb

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a year ago

The slides show you the truth about my last year inside one of the largest cancer centers in Boca Raton.
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What happened to us is the ugly reality of how racism, disorganization, bias, and indifference pushed my mom toward an avoidable death.
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She was 66. Healthy except for diabetes. She did everything right. I did everything right. I studied, asked questions, code-switched, stayed polite, like they tell us to do. And the system still treated us like we didn’t matter.
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Doctors withheld information. Staff ignored us. Notes labeled me “confrontational.” And even in the end, they couldn’t give her dignity. Not even a death certificate that told the truth.
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This wasn’t just cancer. This was medical gaslighting. This was systemic racism. This was neglect. And it cost my mom her life.
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I’m telling this story because the treatment was unfair. And, you’re supposed to just accept it. Their actions didn’t just cost my mom her life. They shattered mine. The system isn’t just broken. It’s splintered beyond repair, and it’s killing Black women.
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This is my lived experience. I’m sharing it so someone studying uterine cancer and racial disparities can learn and make sure fewer families live this story. Share it with someone who needs to see it, and tell me if it’s happened to you, too. @kemidoll @ucheblackstockmd @drmichaelhforde #EndMedicalRacism #EndometrialCancer #MedicalNegligence #RacismInHealthcare #SystemicRacism #HealthEquity #GaslightingKills by @frantzyb

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a year ago