Are those responsible for the starting point of a historical event always the most significant?

So commonly in the history of medicine, a pattern is noticeable in those individuals who are judged by the court of public memory to be worthy of recognition: they were always the first to make their finding, and so are remembered as the beginning of a new dawn. Whether they actually contributed to the rest of this legacy that has been stamped with their name seems to be insignificant and yet, the people who put their own blood, sweat and tears into actualizing an individual’s ideas from blueprints to monuments of discovery have faded into the background.

Take the well-known example of penicillin: skimming the surface of its discovery yields the sole name of Alexander Fleming, whereas in truth, Fleming’s accidental discovery of penicillium notatum was only the first step of a gruelling and lengthy slog to get the world’s first widely used antibiotic from laboratory containers to World War II battlefields. Without the breakthroughs of Florey and Chain to purify, clinically trial and internationally publicize ‘Fleming’s’ discovery, penicillin now might very well still be no more than an incidental mould.

To those involved in this year’s Historical Association Great Debate, the notion of fairly distributing acknowledgement is strikingly resonant: after all, the central question is, ‘Which historical place or person from your local area deserves greater recognition?’

Who or where indeed? Here is just one possible answer, focusing on metropolis of Manchester:

Moving from antibiotics to public health, topically, 2023 saw the 75th anniversary of the jewel in Britain’s healthcare crown, the NHS – and unsurprisingly, much of the limelight has been focused on its knight in shining armour, Aneurin Bevan, described by Robin Butler as ‘the greatest parliamentary speaker since Charles James Fox’. Whilst no-one can deny Bevan’s achievement’s as unnoteworthy, perhaps during the NHS-dedicated keychains and 50p coins, it is time to shift the limelight from those who gave birth to the NHS, but rather those who nurtured and grew it.

Bevan may have lit the fire, but many more have dedicated their lives to keep it burning – don’t these individuals deserve to be put upon the same pedestal?

Just one month after its establishment on the 5 July 1948, the NHS began a recruitment call for nurses from every corner of the British colonies, from Trinidad and Tobago to the island of Jamaica. One woman who answered this call was Louise Da-Cocodia. Louise Da-Cocodia MBE was born in Jamaica - half a world away from England - and yet, aged 24, she came to Manchester in 1955 to train for a profession in nursing, and hence began an NHS career spanning 31 years.

Set up to be the underdog of her field, she was about as far from a milestone figure as it is possible to go. Undervalued, underestimated, and underrated, Da-Cocodia faced endless racial discrimination from her colleagues and patients.

This segregation started institutionally from the onset and can be most ubiquitously seen through the two-tier qualification system: all nurses had the ‘choice’ between the more detailed SRN route or the shorter, lower-status SEN pathway. However, the difference between these two courses was often not explained to Jamaican nurses like Da-Cocodia, and they would be automatically enrolled in the lower pathway – simply by virtue of being a ‘coloured’ person. 

They would then be unceremoniously dispatched to unpopular and more humble specialities that British nurses tended to avoid, such as psychiatric nursing, to the extent where these wards became known as the ‘Cinderella areas of the NHS’.

Despite the labour of these weighty burdens, Da-Cocodia was no ordinary nurse, and her star burned bright right from her qualification in 1958.

Almost immediately, she began serving on Race Relations Committees in addition to her duties in hospitals, such as the Commission for Racial Equality throughout the 1960s and 1970s and her three terms as Chair of the West Indian Organisation Co-ordinating Committee. Moreover, Da-Cocodia is partly responsible for starting the first ever UK legislation to address racism; this 1965 Race Relations Act later played an immeasurable role in tackling the discrimination faced by almost one million Caribbean migrants living in the UK.

Da-Cocodia gave 31 years of altruistic care, saving the lives of victims of the 1981 Moss Side riots, and later sat on the Hytner Panel inquiring into causes of the unrest.

She gave 31 years as a rose in the concrete, proving to her peers that it is not about where you come from, but rather where you want to go.

She gave 31 years as the guardian angel of Manchester’s community, formally serving on governing boards at Manchester Metropolitan University and Voluntary Action Manchester, notwithstanding her role as a Deputy Lord Lieutenant.

Louise Da-Cocodia retired as the first ever senior black nursing officer in Manchester. In 1966, Da-Cocodia was appointed as a District Superintendent of Nurses, and even as a manager in a senior role, she experienced racist remarks from colleagues: “Those black so and so’s coming here and giving us orders!”

Perhaps she was not the one stood at the start of a racetrack, but was a marathon runner who endured a gruelling, quietly persistent journey. After all, picture the Manchester of her day: rows of black and white buildings, rubble swept aside from the Blitz, grey smog against the rough fabric of the sky. What a disappointment this would have been to Da-Cocodia, compared to the seaside haven of her hometown. Remember, the people of Britain called – and she came.               

And, if she had not come to Manchester, there would have been decidedly less equality for black hospital workers.

Ultimately, what makes Louise Da-Cocodia deserve greater recognition is not just her work but her legacy; although she may have passed away, everything that she stood for in her life is still standing today. Through the Louise Da-Cocodia Education Trust, her efforts have been amplified tenfold, improving schooling opportunities for young people of African and Caribbean heritage, an open mirror to Da-Cocodia’s own roots.

As a Deputy Lord Lieutenant, Da-Cocodia also seized what power she had to ease the way for future migrants who would find themselves in her shoes. Her many community enterprise schemes include the Arawak Walton Housing Association, to help young migrants find more affordable housing, and the Agency for Economic Development in Manchester.

So, in essence, what truly sets Da-Cocodia apart from the crowd is the fact that she was a nurse who cared intensely for future generations, as well as those in hospitals at the time.

 If we cannot look to this with admiration, then we truly have not learnt from history.

Such a wondrous individual deserves more than a mention here and there in books about the Windrush Generation, or a couple of Black History Month webpages dedicated to her name. But it is never too late to change.

2023 saw the 75th anniversary of the NHS. Let us make sure that the next time its anniversary comes around, we truly give all its heroes the credit they deserve.