“Why Can’t they Stop Talking?”Understanding Over Talking as a Trauma Response in Black Nurses, Midwives and Support Workers

At Equality 4 Black Nurses (E4BN), we’ve heard it countless times from managers, case investigators, and regulators:

“She talked too much.”“She couldn’t give a straight answer.”“She rambled for 40 minutes and didn’t make sense.”

What they don’t hear - because they never truly listen - is this:

“She was trying to survive.”

Take Kemi, a Nigerian-trained nurse falsely accused of neglecting a resident by her racist colleagues. In the fact-finding meeting, she barely took a breath. She spoke rapidly, repeated herself, offered context no one asked for, and described events from six months before the incident.

The panel grew irritated. They said she was “evasive” and “disorganised.”

But we knew what was really happening:

She wasn’t evading the truth she was defending her right to exist safely in the room.

Because for Kemi, and so many Black nurses, midwives and support workers, over-talking is not a communication flaw. It’s a survival strategy, formed under racism, isolation, and repeated disbelief.

When Black nurses, midwives and support workers are constantly:

• Second-guessed by colleagues

• Undermined during shift handovers

• Gaslighted after raising concerns

• Bullied by white support staff and HCA's

• Disbelieved when defending themselves

They begin to anticipate harm in every conversation. Speech becomes armour. Detail becomes protection. Silence becomes dangerous.

When they are finally given a platform, they speak. And speak. And speak.

Until the room - full of white faces - stares back, unmoved and unhearing.

This isn’t rambling. It’s hyper vigilance, a recognised trauma response. And in racially surveilled environments like the NHS, it becomes the shield.

My Own Experience — Neomi Bennett, Founder of E4BN

I recognise this response because I’ve lived it.

In 2020, I was wrongly arrested by the Metropolitan Police and locked up in a cell for 19 hours after being racially profiled, targeted and physically abused by PC Stuart from Earlsfield Police station. I was dragged from my car, handcuffed and treated like a criminal.

I was a nurse. A Black woman. And a threat, in their eyes.

At the roadside, under interrogation, I couldn’t stop talking. I explained, over explained, circled back, repeated myself. Not because I was hiding something but because I was frightened and traumatised. I was trying to survive.

That over-talking was later used against me in court. The prosecution built a case out of my own desperate attempts to be understood. They claimed I was inconsistent. Unclear. Evasive and the prosecution called me a liar. But I now know what that was. It was racial trauma. It was fear. And it led to a wrongful conviction at the magistrates’ court.

That is why I see this behaviour so clearly in the nurses we support. It is not a flaw. It is a scar.

“I Just Wanted You to Know Everything Before You Judged Me”

That’s what Fatou, a mental health nurse, said to us during her E4BN triage. Her story had spanned an hour. She described her childhood. Her accents. Her training. Her shame. Her longing for home. All before even reaching the alleged incident.

And at the centre of it all was a desperate plea:

“Please don’t see me the way they saw me.”

This is what intersectionality looks like in trauma: When a person is carrying race, immigration status, accent, gender, and fear - he/she will try to give you their whole self before you judge any part of them.

Why This Matters in Legal and Regulatory Spaces

When trauma-induced over-talking is misunderstood, it becomes a weapon used against nurse's midwives and support workers.

• Tribunals misread it as dishonesty

• The NMC/DBS labels it “lack of insight”

• HR teams frame it as non-compliance

• Peers dismiss it as “too much drama and playing the race card”

And so, the nurse/midwife not only fights for their NMC Pin they fight to be recognised as a human being. At E4BN, we don’t silence our members - we equip them to be heard safely. We’ve developed an Enhanced Treatment Plan for those struggling with trauma-induced over-talking.

We teach them that:

“Silence is not absence. Silence is control.”

We:

• Role play how to answer regulatory questions in two clear sentences

• Train in micro-silence techniques to manage dysregulation

• Use trauma-mapping worksheets to locate the fear behind the words

• Coach our members to identify when they’re speaking from survival - not from truth

And above all, we tell them:

“You do not owe anyone your pain. You do not have to prove your humanity. You only need to speak your truth and then stop.”

To Managers, HR, and Panels Who Are Listening (But Not Hearing)

If a Black staff member “talks too much,” ask yourself:

• What has he/she survived that makes silence feel dangerous?

• Why is he/she explaining things no one asked for?

• What history of disbelief lives in their body right now?

  
  

Their speech is not your inconvenience. It is their wound.

To the Nurses, midwives and support workers Still Explaining Themselves in Rooms That Harm Them

You don’t have to give them your whole story. You don’t have to make them comfortable.

You can say:

“That’s all I have to say.“I need time before I answer that.“I’ll speak when my E4BN advocate is here.”

That is power. That is protection.That is advocacy.

Final Thought

As the founder of E4BN, I know what it means to over-talk out of fear because I’ve done it.

I know what it feels like when your truth is used against you, when your voice is seen as a threat, and when silence feels like surrender.

At Equality 4 Black Nurses, we don’t teach our nurses to be quiet. We teach them how to speak with clarity, pause with power, and protect their truth with silence in a system that wants them to fall apart.

We teach our members how to stay whole and be heard without being harmed. Over-talking was never the problem. Racism was. Surveillance was. The trauma of never being believed was.

We won’t apologise for our voices. We will refine them. We will guard them and we will never again give them away just to feel safe.

This blog explores racial trauma, systemic injustice, and the lived experiences of Black nurses.

It may contain distressing content for some readers. The views shared reflect advocacy work by Equality 4 Black Nurses (E4BN) and are not legal, medical, or psychological advice. Reader discretion is advised.