What Being A Black Doctor Means to Me

So many things, y’all. So many things. More and more, I find Black patients are actively seeking out Black doctors. Especially in the wake of this study which links Black doctors to a longer life expectancy for Black patients, the desire and the demand are definitely there. The cultural competency changes. The advocacy heightens. The awareness is greater. The code switching and communication are on 100,000 when it’s us who walk in the room. I’ve had a young lady ask me to leave her with a Black clinician when I informed her my emergency room shift was ending. I’ve had my older clinic patients ask if I’ll be at the clinic long and then follow up with, “Do you have to go? I was finally assigned to you.” Stories like these greatly abound. We are so needed. This sentiment is indeed delightful and a little scary at the same time. 

As someone who has experienced what it’s like to be on a waiting list just to see a Black physician, I absolutely understand how important and weighty it is to be one. I’m so glad—literally elated—I can serve my community in this way. That’s what this journey has always been about for me: Service. There are far easier things to do for a great living. I do this for my people. It feels so good when my patients acknowledge how I am wanted and needed for their care. It feels good to live in my purpose and to improve health and livelihood so others can live in theirs. At the same time, being a Black doctor can have its daunting moments.

When you get a backstage pass to see how certain practitioners and systems treat people who look like you…well, it’s hard not to feel like the solutions are all on you and the other 5.7% of doctors in this country. I know. That number is wild, right? Shout out to the true allies. I do see y’all. It’s hard not to feel the need and the weight of feeling the need to advocate for every single patient. In my time practicing, it’s Black patients I see getting the harshest treatment. That’s what I’ve seen. And I do feel personally responsible for helping to change that experience.

As I embark upon job interviews and post-residency life, it really is hitting me. I’m about to be out here serving my community and doing what I always said I would do. I can only hope that I do it in a way that is sufficient; in a way that is impactful. There is so much work to be done to improve the health and overall wellbeing of Black communities—work I am ready to do. I just pray my part is enough. I want my part to change systems and policies. I pray my Great Grandmother who worked until the age of 65 to get her college degree is proud. I pray my grandparents who had difficulty navigating the health care system and did not always receive the best care are proud. And I pray that my Great Uncle who lost his life as a child because white doctors refused to treat his pneumonia is proud. He was my Grandmother’s brother. This occurrence was not that long ago. It was within my grandparents’ lifetime and, therefore, within your grandparents’ lifetime. We have work to do. Being a Black doctor comes with great privilege and great responsibility. I’m forever grateful to have the 5.7% and our communities behind us.

xx,

Photos by Tina Smith