I want a doctor who knows what it’s like to go through that obligatory Will Smith high top phase. I want a doctor that’s been shaken by their parents’ rough hands as their bodies were slathered in lotion before heading off to preschool. I want a doctor who felt the true weight of the words spoken by Michael B. Jordan when he delivered his infamous line in Black Panther. I want a doctor that can relate to me on a sociocultural level. 

I want a doctor who knows what a durag is. I know I am not the only one who feels this way.

Coming into college, we all faced that awkward transition from the familiar care of our longtime pediatrician, to a new, unfamiliar primary care physician — a total stranger tasked with examining our bodies, identifying nuances and probing for anything out of the ordinary. It’s a daunting experience, to say the least. 

For me, the process was underwhelming. My hope was to find a Black doctor, someone who would understand me and my health concerns, but unsurprisingly, my search came up short. I take my health seriously, and when it comes to the person I’ll be seeing at least twice a year — or more if health issues arise — I want a medical provider I can truly connect with. 

As a patient, feeling comfortable in a doctor’s office is a top priority. Between the sterile room, bright lights, invasive questions and airy thin gown, it’s easy to feel exposed and anxious. I wanted that sense of familiarity — a connection that would relieve the fear of being misunderstood or judged. It would bridge the gap between doctor and patient, not only through the pigmentation of our skin but through the weight of the world that humans have bestowed upon those that have been blessed with melanin. 

Well… I don’t want to seem “whitewashed”.

A study by Vijaya Rao and Glenn Flores, titled “Why Aren’t There More African-American Physicians?” questioned why African-Americans make up 13% of the U.S. population but, despite affirmative action measures, only make up 4% of physicians. Through focus groups with African-American high school students, they identified six key barriers. Three of these barriers — financial constraints, time constraints and academic stress — can be seen as common among all students. The other three disproportionately affect African Americans.

Limited exposure and knowledge: Few students had connections with African-American healthcare professionals, resulting in misconceptions about medical careers and a lack of academic preparation.

Lack of family and peer support: Many felt a lack of encouragement at home and negative peer pressure, fearing social isolation if they excelled academically.

Perceived racism: Students worried about facing discrimination from both colleagues and patients, making them hesitant to enter a potentially unwelcoming environment.

I am fortunate to have parents who fully support my academic goals and encourage my aspirations to attend medical school. Even more, I am one of the few who has a personal connection with a Black healthcare professional. My mother, an internal physician, has been a guiding force, giving me insight into the realities of a career in medicine. I am proud to say she is the inspiration behind my career goals. However, I am aware that my experience is uncommon amongst Black children and students.

Like many, I have felt the social pressures that Rao and Flores discussed. Growing up as a young, impressionable Black kid, being labeled “whitewashed” by peers was a sour feeling, leaving me to wrestle with my identity. I found myself caught between the expectations of an African household and the desire to integrate with African-American culture.

The fear of being misjudged, if I am fortunate enough to don the white coat and stethoscope, has always lingered. I know I’ll face this reality. It’s disheartening to think that, after countless hours of training and 12 years of schooling, a patient might still refuse my expertise or constantly question my abilities solely because of my skin color. I empathize with others who look like me that find this harsh reality a deterring factor when it comes to pursuing a career in healthcare.

Imma say it again: I want a doctor who knows what a durag is

We need more black doctors. 

According to the study by Rao and Flores, students believed that increasing the number of African-American physicians would strengthen patient-physician relationships. They noted that shared cultural backgrounds would create more comfort and lead to more trust. Rao and Flores rightfully speculate that this will help to establish better communication and grant more empathy from the physician when it comes to patients’ health concerns. 

In support of their conclusion, Michael Dill, director of the Association of American Medical Colleges’ team, collected data from 1,600 US counties and found that a 10% increase in Black primary care physicians was associated with an additional month of life expectancy for Black patients.

In addition to these findings, a study from Stanford University examined how physician diversity influences the demand for preventive care among African-American men. The results revealed that when paired with Black doctors, patient’s demand for preventative care increased, especially amongst those with limited prior experience with routine medical care. Furthermore, these patients raised more health concerns and were more likely to follow advice from Black doctors, as noted in the physicians’ notes.

Dr. Owen Garrick, an African American physician, commented on these findings, noting that Black doctors often present themselves in a manner that helps Black patients feel more comfortable. He underscores that this connection fosters a more open relationship and makes patients more willing to discuss concerns and accept recommended care.

Expanding the scope of their study, Stanford researchers projected the broader public health implications of increasing diversity within the medical profession. They estimated that a rise in Black physicians within the medical workforce could potentially reduce the Black-white male cardiovascular mortality gap by 19% and the Black-white male life expectancy gap by 8%.

Evidently, increasing diversity in medicine cannot be simplified to just representation; it’s a crucial step towards creating a healthcare system that can cater to the needs of all patients. By encouraging more African-Americans to pursue careers in medicine and removing barriers seen by many, we can form a healthcare environment that promotes equity, empathy and better health for everyone.