Diversity in Medicine

It’s called the Momnibus—the Black Maternal Health Momnibus Act of 2021 (HR 959) with 12 bills addressing “every dimension of the maternal health crisis in America.” The first bill in the Momnibus to pass Congress is the Protecting Moms Who Served act, which sets up a $15 million maternal care program within the US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA). “There has never been a comprehensive evaluation of how our nation’s growing maternal mortality crisis is impacting our women veterans, even though they may be at higher risk due to their service,” said Sen. Tammy Duckworth (D-IL), a co-sponsor of the Momnibus. The bill has passed Congress and awaits President Biden’s signature.

Rep. Lauren Underwood (D-IL) along with Rep. Alma Adams (D- NC-12), Sen. Cory Booker D-NJ), and members of the Black Maternal Health Caucus reintroduced the bill (first introduced last year). According to Rep. Underwood, the act would codify and strengthen the VA maternity care coordination programs. It also will require the US Government Accountability Office to report the deaths of pregnant and postpartum veterans and to focus on any racial or ethnic disparities. The bill passed overwhelmingly, 414 to 9 and awaits President Biden’s signature.

The Momnibus’s cute name represents a very serious purpose. “Maternal mortality has historically been used as a key indicator of the health of a population,” say researchers from National Vital Statistics Reports. But American mothers are dying at the highest rate in the developed world, and the numbers have been rising dramatically. Between 1987, when the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) launched the Pregnancy Mortality Surveillance System in 2017, the latest year for available data, the number of reported pregnancy-related deaths in the United States rose steadily from 7.2 deaths per 100,000 live births to 17.3 per 100,000.

The maternal morbidity crisis is particularly stark among certain groups of women. Black women are acutely at risk, dying at 3 to 4 times the rate of White women (41.7 deaths per 100,000 live births), and one-third higher than the next highest risk group, Native American women (28.3 deaths per 100,000 live births).

But just how accurate have the data been? The study published in National Vital Statistics Report found that using a checkbox for “cause of death” specifying maternal death identified more than triple the number of maternal deaths. Without the checkbox item, maternal mortality rates in 2015 and 2016 would have been reported as 8.7 deaths per 100,000 live births, compared with 8.9 in 2002. With the checkbox, the rate would be reported as 20.9 per 100,000 live births in 2015 and 21.8/100,000 in 2016.

The CDC states that the reasons for the rising numbers are unclear; advances in identification have improved over time, for one. But by and large, the women are dying of preventable causes, such as hypertension, diabetes mellitus, and chronic heart disease. Nearly 60% of maternal deaths are deemed preventable.

Black and other minority women, though, may be dying of biases. Researchers from Beth Israel and Harvard cite studies that have found racial and ethnic disparities in obstetric care delivery. Non-Hispanic Blacks women, Hispanic women, and Asian women, for instance, have lower odds of labor induction when compared with that of White women. The odds of receiving an episiotomy are lower in non-Hispanic Black and Hispanic women. The Listening to Mothers survey III found that 24% of participants perceived discrimination during birth hospitalization, predominantly among Black or Hispanic women and uninsured women.

A maternal health equity advocacy group, 4Kira4Moms, was founded by the husband of Kira Johnson who died of hemorrhage following a routine scheduled cesarean section. In the recovery room, her catheter began turning pink with blood. For 10 hours, her husband said, he and her family begged the medical staff for help but were told his wife was not a priority. Thus, the Momnibus also contains the Kira Johnson Act, which will establish funding for community-based groups to provide Black pregnant women with more support.

Among other changes, the Momnibus will:

• Make critical investments in social determinants of health that influence maternal health outcomes, such as housing, transportation, and nutrition;
• Provide funding to community-based organizations that are working to improve maternal health outcomes and promote equity;
• Comprehensively study the unique maternal health risks facing pregnant and postpartum veterans and support VA maternity care coordination programs;
• Support mothers with mental health conditions and substance use disorders; and
• Promote innovative payment models to incentivize high-quality maternity care and nonclinical perinatal support

A variety of recent bills in Congress address maternal health. The Mothers and Offspring Mortality and Morbidity Awareness (MOMMA) Act, for instance, also would specifically address maternal health disparities by improving data collection and reporting, improving maternal care, and advancing respectful, equitable care. It also would extend Medicaid and the Children’s Health Insurance Program coverage. Katie Shea Barrett, MPH, executive director of March for Moms, a coalition of families, health care practitioners, policy makers, and partners advocating for mothers’ and families’ health, notes in an essay for thehill.com that Medicaid coverage ends about 60 days postpartum, although half of the maternal deaths happen between 42 days and 1 year postpartum. 

She writes: “[W]e have to directly address the disproportionate impact of maternal mortality on women of color by training providers in offering care that is culturally competent and free of implicit bias. Health systems must be aware and respectful of cultural norms when providing care and be mindful of buying into stereotypes based on race, ethnicity, and even underlying medical conditions like diabetes, which often lead to perceived discrimination and perpetuate systems of injustice.”

In April, Vice President Kamala Harris called for sweeping action to curb racial inequities in pregnancy and childbirth. In an email Q&A with STAT, she said, “With every day that goes by and every woman who dies, the need for action grows more urgent.”

It’s called the Momnibus—the Black Maternal Health Momnibus Act of 2021 (HR 959) with 12 bills addressing “every dimension of the maternal health crisis in America.” The first bill in the Momnibus to pass Congress is the Protecting Moms Who Served act, which sets up a $15 million maternal care program within the US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA). “There has never been a comprehensive evaluation of how our nation’s growing maternal mortality crisis is impacting our women veterans, even though they may be at higher risk due to their service,” said Sen. Tammy Duckworth (D-IL), a co-sponsor of the Momnibus. The bill has passed Congress and awaits President Biden’s signature.

Rep. Lauren Underwood (D-IL) along with Rep. Alma Adams (D- NC-12), Sen. Cory Booker D-NJ), and members of the Black Maternal Health Caucus reintroduced the bill (first introduced last year). According to Rep. Underwood, the act would codify and strengthen the VA maternity care coordination programs. It also will require the US Government Accountability Office to report the deaths of pregnant and postpartum veterans and to focus on any racial or ethnic disparities. The bill passed overwhelmingly, 414 to 9 and awaits President Biden’s signature.

The Momnibus’s cute name represents a very serious purpose. “Maternal mortality has historically been used as a key indicator of the health of a population,” say researchers from National Vital Statistics Reports. But American mothers are dying at the highest rate in the developed world, and the numbers have been rising dramatically. Between 1987, when the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) launched the Pregnancy Mortality Surveillance System in 2017, the latest year for available data, the number of reported pregnancy-related deaths in the United States rose steadily from 7.2 deaths per 100,000 live births to 17.3 per 100,000.

The maternal morbidity crisis is particularly stark among certain groups of women. Black women are acutely at risk, dying at 3 to 4 times the rate of White women (41.7 deaths per 100,000 live births), and one-third higher than the next highest risk group, Native American women (28.3 deaths per 100,000 live births).

But just how accurate have the data been? The study published in National Vital Statistics Report found that using a checkbox for “cause of death” specifying maternal death identified more than triple the number of maternal deaths. Without the checkbox item, maternal mortality rates in 2015 and 2016 would have been reported as 8.7 deaths per 100,000 live births, compared with 8.9 in 2002. With the checkbox, the rate would be reported as 20.9 per 100,000 live births in 2015 and 21.8/100,000 in 2016.

The CDC states that the reasons for the rising numbers are unclear; advances in identification have improved over time, for one. But by and large, the women are dying of preventable causes, such as hypertension, diabetes mellitus, and chronic heart disease. Nearly 60% of maternal deaths are deemed preventable.

Black and other minority women, though, may be dying of biases. Researchers from Beth Israel and Harvard cite studies that have found racial and ethnic disparities in obstetric care delivery. Non-Hispanic Blacks women, Hispanic women, and Asian women, for instance, have lower odds of labor induction when compared with that of White women. The odds of receiving an episiotomy are lower in non-Hispanic Black and Hispanic women. The Listening to Mothers survey III found that 24% of participants perceived discrimination during birth hospitalization, predominantly among Black or Hispanic women and uninsured women.

A maternal health equity advocacy group, 4Kira4Moms, was founded by the husband of Kira Johnson who died of hemorrhage following a routine scheduled cesarean section. In the recovery room, her catheter began turning pink with blood. For 10 hours, her husband said, he and her family begged the medical staff for help but were told his wife was not a priority. Thus, the Momnibus also contains the Kira Johnson Act, which will establish funding for community-based groups to provide Black pregnant women with more support.

Among other changes, the Momnibus will:

• Make critical investments in social determinants of health that influence maternal health outcomes, such as housing, transportation, and nutrition;
• Provide funding to community-based organizations that are working to improve maternal health outcomes and promote equity;
• Comprehensively study the unique maternal health risks facing pregnant and postpartum veterans and support VA maternity care coordination programs;
• Support mothers with mental health conditions and substance use disorders; and
• Promote innovative payment models to incentivize high-quality maternity care and nonclinical perinatal support

A variety of recent bills in Congress address maternal health. The Mothers and Offspring Mortality and Morbidity Awareness (MOMMA) Act, for instance, also would specifically address maternal health disparities by improving data collection and reporting, improving maternal care, and advancing respectful, equitable care. It also would extend Medicaid and the Children’s Health Insurance Program coverage. Katie Shea Barrett, MPH, executive director of March for Moms, a coalition of families, health care practitioners, policy makers, and partners advocating for mothers’ and families’ health, notes in an essay for thehill.com that Medicaid coverage ends about 60 days postpartum, although half of the maternal deaths happen between 42 days and 1 year postpartum. 

She writes: “[W]e have to directly address the disproportionate impact of maternal mortality on women of color by training providers in offering care that is culturally competent and free of implicit bias. Health systems must be aware and respectful of cultural norms when providing care and be mindful of buying into stereotypes based on race, ethnicity, and even underlying medical conditions like diabetes, which often lead to perceived discrimination and perpetuate systems of injustice.”

In April, Vice President Kamala Harris called for sweeping action to curb racial inequities in pregnancy and childbirth. In an email Q&A with STAT, she said, “With every day that goes by and every woman who dies, the need for action grows more urgent.”

It’s called the Momnibus—the Black Maternal Health Momnibus Act of 2021 (HR 959) with 12 bills addressing “every dimension of the maternal health crisis in America.” The first bill in the Momnibus to pass Congress is the Protecting Moms Who Served act, which sets up a $15 million maternal care program within the US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA). “There has never been a comprehensive evaluation of how our nation’s growing maternal mortality crisis is impacting our women veterans, even though they may be at higher risk due to their service,” said Sen. Tammy Duckworth (D-IL), a co-sponsor of the Momnibus. The bill has passed Congress and awaits President Biden’s signature.

Rep. Lauren Underwood (D-IL) along with Rep. Alma Adams (D- NC-12), Sen. Cory Booker D-NJ), and members of the Black Maternal Health Caucus reintroduced the bill (first introduced last year). According to Rep. Underwood, the act would codify and strengthen the VA maternity care coordination programs. It also will require the US Government Accountability Office to report the deaths of pregnant and postpartum veterans and to focus on any racial or ethnic disparities. The bill passed overwhelmingly, 414 to 9 and awaits President Biden’s signature.

The Momnibus’s cute name represents a very serious purpose. “Maternal mortality has historically been used as a key indicator of the health of a population,” say researchers from National Vital Statistics Reports. But American mothers are dying at the highest rate in the developed world, and the numbers have been rising dramatically. Between 1987, when the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) launched the Pregnancy Mortality Surveillance System in 2017, the latest year for available data, the number of reported pregnancy-related deaths in the United States rose steadily from 7.2 deaths per 100,000 live births to 17.3 per 100,000.

The maternal morbidity crisis is particularly stark among certain groups of women. Black women are acutely at risk, dying at 3 to 4 times the rate of White women (41.7 deaths per 100,000 live births), and one-third higher than the next highest risk group, Native American women (28.3 deaths per 100,000 live births).

But just how accurate have the data been? The study published in National Vital Statistics Report found that using a checkbox for “cause of death” specifying maternal death identified more than triple the number of maternal deaths. Without the checkbox item, maternal mortality rates in 2015 and 2016 would have been reported as 8.7 deaths per 100,000 live births, compared with 8.9 in 2002. With the checkbox, the rate would be reported as 20.9 per 100,000 live births in 2015 and 21.8/100,000 in 2016.

The CDC states that the reasons for the rising numbers are unclear; advances in identification have improved over time, for one. But by and large, the women are dying of preventable causes, such as hypertension, diabetes mellitus, and chronic heart disease. Nearly 60% of maternal deaths are deemed preventable.

Black and other minority women, though, may be dying of biases. Researchers from Beth Israel and Harvard cite studies that have found racial and ethnic disparities in obstetric care delivery. Non-Hispanic Blacks women, Hispanic women, and Asian women, for instance, have lower odds of labor induction when compared with that of White women. The odds of receiving an episiotomy are lower in non-Hispanic Black and Hispanic women. The Listening to Mothers survey III found that 24% of participants perceived discrimination during birth hospitalization, predominantly among Black or Hispanic women and uninsured women.

A maternal health equity advocacy group, 4Kira4Moms, was founded by the husband of Kira Johnson who died of hemorrhage following a routine scheduled cesarean section. In the recovery room, her catheter began turning pink with blood. For 10 hours, her husband said, he and her family begged the medical staff for help but were told his wife was not a priority. Thus, the Momnibus also contains the Kira Johnson Act, which will establish funding for community-based groups to provide Black pregnant women with more support.

Among other changes, the Momnibus will:

• Make critical investments in social determinants of health that influence maternal health outcomes, such as housing, transportation, and nutrition;
• Provide funding to community-based organizations that are working to improve maternal health outcomes and promote equity;
• Comprehensively study the unique maternal health risks facing pregnant and postpartum veterans and support VA maternity care coordination programs;
• Support mothers with mental health conditions and substance use disorders; and
• Promote innovative payment models to incentivize high-quality maternity care and nonclinical perinatal support

A variety of recent bills in Congress address maternal health. The Mothers and Offspring Mortality and Morbidity Awareness (MOMMA) Act, for instance, also would specifically address maternal health disparities by improving data collection and reporting, improving maternal care, and advancing respectful, equitable care. It also would extend Medicaid and the Children’s Health Insurance Program coverage. Katie Shea Barrett, MPH, executive director of March for Moms, a coalition of families, health care practitioners, policy makers, and partners advocating for mothers’ and families’ health, notes in an essay for thehill.com that Medicaid coverage ends about 60 days postpartum, although half of the maternal deaths happen between 42 days and 1 year postpartum. 

She writes: “[W]e have to directly address the disproportionate impact of maternal mortality on women of color by training providers in offering care that is culturally competent and free of implicit bias. Health systems must be aware and respectful of cultural norms when providing care and be mindful of buying into stereotypes based on race, ethnicity, and even underlying medical conditions like diabetes, which often lead to perceived discrimination and perpetuate systems of injustice.”

In April, Vice President Kamala Harris called for sweeping action to curb racial inequities in pregnancy and childbirth. In an email Q&A with STAT, she said, “With every day that goes by and every woman who dies, the need for action grows more urgent.”

Municipal budget allocations can affect severe maternal morbidity (SMM) rates, a cross-sectional study published in JAMA Network Open reported.

Led by Felix M. Muchomba, PhD, an assistant professor at Rutgers University School of Social Work in New Brunswick, N.J., the study found that local expenditures on fire and ambulance, transportation, health, housing, and libraries were negatively associated with SMM. Specifically, annual per-capita expenditures of $1,000 and higher in these categories were associated with a 35.4%-67.3% lower risk of SMM: odds ratios, 0.33 (95% confidence interval, 0.15-0.72) to 0.65 (95% CI, 0.46-0.91).

In contrast, expenditures on police were positively associated with SMM: OR, 1.15 (95% CI, 1.04-1.28).

In the first study of environmental services spending and SMM done at the municipal level – others have focused on state and county funding – Dr. Muchomba’s group analyzed 2008-2018 birth files linked to maternal hospital discharge records and U.S. Census municipal expenditures data.

The study’s cohort comprised 1,001,410 mothers giving birth in New Jersey hospitals with a mean age of 29.8 years. Of these,10.9 % were Asian, 14.8% were Black, 28.0% were Hispanic, and 44.7% were White.

Per-capita municipal expenditures were reviewed for a broad range of city services: education, public health, fire and ambulance, parks, recreation, natural resources, housing, community development, public welfare; police; transportation, and libraries. “Each year municipalities spend about $600 billion nationwide on local services, investing far more than counties do,” Dr. Muchomba said.

Among developed nations, the United States has a rate of high maternal morbidity, a determinant of maternal mortality, and New Jersey has one of the highest rates in the country, although, paradoxically, it has one of the lowest state poverty rates and one of the highest state income levels, he added, said explaining the impetus for the study.

Previous research has found that state and local investment in non–health specific services can reduce infant mortality rates (IMR). Last year, for example, a national study of 2000-2016 data led by Neal D. Goldstein, PhD, MRI, an assistant professor of epidemiology and biostatistics at Drexel University in Philadelphia, reported that a $0.30 per-person increase in environmental spending was associated with a decrease of 0.03 deaths per 1,000 live births, and a $0.73 per-person increase in social services spending was associated with a decrease of 0.02 deaths per 1,000 live births. “IMR is reflective of, and amenable to broad social, economic, and health care delivery contexts within a society. State and local governments, via increased social and environmental expenditures, have the potential to reduce, albeit not eliminate, IMR disparities,” Dr. Goldstein’s group wrote in Pediatrics.

According to Aimee J. Palumbo, PhD, MPH, an assistant professor in the department of epidemiology & biostatistics in the College of Public Health at Temple University in Philadelphia, who was not involved in the study, the current study’s results are broadly consistent with those of the Goldstein study, of which she is a coauthor, in that it shows spending on public welfare is associated with better outcomes following birth.

“This analysis, however, is done at the municipality level, which allows it to evaluate variations in spending that occur at more local levels, rather than the state level like ours,” she said in an interview. “The researchers are also able to control for individual-level factors,” which is good as it is really suggestive of the impact that spending has on outcomes after controlling for some individual characteristics.”

Both studies speak to the importance of exploring funding for social services and specific programs that affect health, Dr. Palumbo added.

Services that affect nonmedical determinants of health broadly affect how people live their daily lives, Dr. Muchomba said – where they live, how they get to work and to medical appointments, where they shop, how they engage in recreation.

“Housing is very important for mothers since it provides a safe space to shelter during pregnancy and during recovery from childbirth. It’s a safe place to store medications and to prepare healthy food,” he continued. “But much of the housing in New Jersey is very expensive, and some mothers may have to decide between paying the rent and buying healthy food.”

In other benefits, local services spending provides transportation to jobs and health care, bus shelters, effective waste management, viable sidewalks, safe crosswalks, and public exercise venues that help to reduce obesity.

The category that Dr. Muchomba is most often asked about is libraries. “Why libraries? Our hypothesis is that libraries provide some low-income people with their only access to computers and the Internet. They’re a major resource for information and a proxy for the delivery of other services,” he said. In addition, many libraries offer English as a second language classes, which may increase health literacy among immigrants.

A major objective of the 2020 Maternal Health Action Plan of the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services is to better target resources by identifying problem spots for maternal morbidity and mortality. “Our findings strongly suggest that surveillance at the municipal level, a level rarely considered in studies of health outcomes, would be important for success in such efforts,” the authors wrote.

Dr. Muchomba believes doctors can have a role to play in targeting of spending for local services that can reduce maternal morbidity and mortality. “Many physicians are engaged in community health outreach efforts. As respected people in the community, they need to be aware of these other determinants of health that may be driving maternal morbidity rates in their communities.”

This research was supported by the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, the National Center for Advancing Translational Sciences, the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services Health Resources and Service Administration and the Child Health Institute of New Jersey. Dr. Muchomba reported a grant from Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development outside of the submitted work. Dr. Palumbo had no potential competing interests to disclose.

Municipal budget allocations can affect severe maternal morbidity (SMM) rates, a cross-sectional study published in JAMA Network Open reported.

Led by Felix M. Muchomba, PhD, an assistant professor at Rutgers University School of Social Work in New Brunswick, N.J., the study found that local expenditures on fire and ambulance, transportation, health, housing, and libraries were negatively associated with SMM. Specifically, annual per-capita expenditures of $1,000 and higher in these categories were associated with a 35.4%-67.3% lower risk of SMM: odds ratios, 0.33 (95% confidence interval, 0.15-0.72) to 0.65 (95% CI, 0.46-0.91).

In contrast, expenditures on police were positively associated with SMM: OR, 1.15 (95% CI, 1.04-1.28).

In the first study of environmental services spending and SMM done at the municipal level – others have focused on state and county funding – Dr. Muchomba’s group analyzed 2008-2018 birth files linked to maternal hospital discharge records and U.S. Census municipal expenditures data.

The study’s cohort comprised 1,001,410 mothers giving birth in New Jersey hospitals with a mean age of 29.8 years. Of these,10.9 % were Asian, 14.8% were Black, 28.0% were Hispanic, and 44.7% were White.

Per-capita municipal expenditures were reviewed for a broad range of city services: education, public health, fire and ambulance, parks, recreation, natural resources, housing, community development, public welfare; police; transportation, and libraries. “Each year municipalities spend about $600 billion nationwide on local services, investing far more than counties do,” Dr. Muchomba said.

Among developed nations, the United States has a rate of high maternal morbidity, a determinant of maternal mortality, and New Jersey has one of the highest rates in the country, although, paradoxically, it has one of the lowest state poverty rates and one of the highest state income levels, he added, said explaining the impetus for the study.

Previous research has found that state and local investment in non–health specific services can reduce infant mortality rates (IMR). Last year, for example, a national study of 2000-2016 data led by Neal D. Goldstein, PhD, MRI, an assistant professor of epidemiology and biostatistics at Drexel University in Philadelphia, reported that a $0.30 per-person increase in environmental spending was associated with a decrease of 0.03 deaths per 1,000 live births, and a $0.73 per-person increase in social services spending was associated with a decrease of 0.02 deaths per 1,000 live births. “IMR is reflective of, and amenable to broad social, economic, and health care delivery contexts within a society. State and local governments, via increased social and environmental expenditures, have the potential to reduce, albeit not eliminate, IMR disparities,” Dr. Goldstein’s group wrote in Pediatrics.

According to Aimee J. Palumbo, PhD, MPH, an assistant professor in the department of epidemiology & biostatistics in the College of Public Health at Temple University in Philadelphia, who was not involved in the study, the current study’s results are broadly consistent with those of the Goldstein study, of which she is a coauthor, in that it shows spending on public welfare is associated with better outcomes following birth.

“This analysis, however, is done at the municipality level, which allows it to evaluate variations in spending that occur at more local levels, rather than the state level like ours,” she said in an interview. “The researchers are also able to control for individual-level factors,” which is good as it is really suggestive of the impact that spending has on outcomes after controlling for some individual characteristics.”

Both studies speak to the importance of exploring funding for social services and specific programs that affect health, Dr. Palumbo added.

Services that affect nonmedical determinants of health broadly affect how people live their daily lives, Dr. Muchomba said – where they live, how they get to work and to medical appointments, where they shop, how they engage in recreation.

“Housing is very important for mothers since it provides a safe space to shelter during pregnancy and during recovery from childbirth. It’s a safe place to store medications and to prepare healthy food,” he continued. “But much of the housing in New Jersey is very expensive, and some mothers may have to decide between paying the rent and buying healthy food.”

In other benefits, local services spending provides transportation to jobs and health care, bus shelters, effective waste management, viable sidewalks, safe crosswalks, and public exercise venues that help to reduce obesity.

The category that Dr. Muchomba is most often asked about is libraries. “Why libraries? Our hypothesis is that libraries provide some low-income people with their only access to computers and the Internet. They’re a major resource for information and a proxy for the delivery of other services,” he said. In addition, many libraries offer English as a second language classes, which may increase health literacy among immigrants.

A major objective of the 2020 Maternal Health Action Plan of the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services is to better target resources by identifying problem spots for maternal morbidity and mortality. “Our findings strongly suggest that surveillance at the municipal level, a level rarely considered in studies of health outcomes, would be important for success in such efforts,” the authors wrote.

Dr. Muchomba believes doctors can have a role to play in targeting of spending for local services that can reduce maternal morbidity and mortality. “Many physicians are engaged in community health outreach efforts. As respected people in the community, they need to be aware of these other determinants of health that may be driving maternal morbidity rates in their communities.”

This research was supported by the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, the National Center for Advancing Translational Sciences, the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services Health Resources and Service Administration and the Child Health Institute of New Jersey. Dr. Muchomba reported a grant from Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development outside of the submitted work. Dr. Palumbo had no potential competing interests to disclose.

Municipal budget allocations can affect severe maternal morbidity (SMM) rates, a cross-sectional study published in JAMA Network Open reported.

Led by Felix M. Muchomba, PhD, an assistant professor at Rutgers University School of Social Work in New Brunswick, N.J., the study found that local expenditures on fire and ambulance, transportation, health, housing, and libraries were negatively associated with SMM. Specifically, annual per-capita expenditures of $1,000 and higher in these categories were associated with a 35.4%-67.3% lower risk of SMM: odds ratios, 0.33 (95% confidence interval, 0.15-0.72) to 0.65 (95% CI, 0.46-0.91).

In contrast, expenditures on police were positively associated with SMM: OR, 1.15 (95% CI, 1.04-1.28).

In the first study of environmental services spending and SMM done at the municipal level – others have focused on state and county funding – Dr. Muchomba’s group analyzed 2008-2018 birth files linked to maternal hospital discharge records and U.S. Census municipal expenditures data.

The study’s cohort comprised 1,001,410 mothers giving birth in New Jersey hospitals with a mean age of 29.8 years. Of these,10.9 % were Asian, 14.8% were Black, 28.0% were Hispanic, and 44.7% were White.

Per-capita municipal expenditures were reviewed for a broad range of city services: education, public health, fire and ambulance, parks, recreation, natural resources, housing, community development, public welfare; police; transportation, and libraries. “Each year municipalities spend about $600 billion nationwide on local services, investing far more than counties do,” Dr. Muchomba said.

Among developed nations, the United States has a rate of high maternal morbidity, a determinant of maternal mortality, and New Jersey has one of the highest rates in the country, although, paradoxically, it has one of the lowest state poverty rates and one of the highest state income levels, he added, said explaining the impetus for the study.

Previous research has found that state and local investment in non–health specific services can reduce infant mortality rates (IMR). Last year, for example, a national study of 2000-2016 data led by Neal D. Goldstein, PhD, MRI, an assistant professor of epidemiology and biostatistics at Drexel University in Philadelphia, reported that a $0.30 per-person increase in environmental spending was associated with a decrease of 0.03 deaths per 1,000 live births, and a $0.73 per-person increase in social services spending was associated with a decrease of 0.02 deaths per 1,000 live births. “IMR is reflective of, and amenable to broad social, economic, and health care delivery contexts within a society. State and local governments, via increased social and environmental expenditures, have the potential to reduce, albeit not eliminate, IMR disparities,” Dr. Goldstein’s group wrote in Pediatrics.

According to Aimee J. Palumbo, PhD, MPH, an assistant professor in the department of epidemiology & biostatistics in the College of Public Health at Temple University in Philadelphia, who was not involved in the study, the current study’s results are broadly consistent with those of the Goldstein study, of which she is a coauthor, in that it shows spending on public welfare is associated with better outcomes following birth.

“This analysis, however, is done at the municipality level, which allows it to evaluate variations in spending that occur at more local levels, rather than the state level like ours,” she said in an interview. “The researchers are also able to control for individual-level factors,” which is good as it is really suggestive of the impact that spending has on outcomes after controlling for some individual characteristics.”

Both studies speak to the importance of exploring funding for social services and specific programs that affect health, Dr. Palumbo added.

Services that affect nonmedical determinants of health broadly affect how people live their daily lives, Dr. Muchomba said – where they live, how they get to work and to medical appointments, where they shop, how they engage in recreation.

“Housing is very important for mothers since it provides a safe space to shelter during pregnancy and during recovery from childbirth. It’s a safe place to store medications and to prepare healthy food,” he continued. “But much of the housing in New Jersey is very expensive, and some mothers may have to decide between paying the rent and buying healthy food.”

In other benefits, local services spending provides transportation to jobs and health care, bus shelters, effective waste management, viable sidewalks, safe crosswalks, and public exercise venues that help to reduce obesity.

The category that Dr. Muchomba is most often asked about is libraries. “Why libraries? Our hypothesis is that libraries provide some low-income people with their only access to computers and the Internet. They’re a major resource for information and a proxy for the delivery of other services,” he said. In addition, many libraries offer English as a second language classes, which may increase health literacy among immigrants.

A major objective of the 2020 Maternal Health Action Plan of the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services is to better target resources by identifying problem spots for maternal morbidity and mortality. “Our findings strongly suggest that surveillance at the municipal level, a level rarely considered in studies of health outcomes, would be important for success in such efforts,” the authors wrote.

Dr. Muchomba believes doctors can have a role to play in targeting of spending for local services that can reduce maternal morbidity and mortality. “Many physicians are engaged in community health outreach efforts. As respected people in the community, they need to be aware of these other determinants of health that may be driving maternal morbidity rates in their communities.”

This research was supported by the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, the National Center for Advancing Translational Sciences, the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services Health Resources and Service Administration and the Child Health Institute of New Jersey. Dr. Muchomba reported a grant from Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development outside of the submitted work. Dr. Palumbo had no potential competing interests to disclose.

Higher poverty concentration at the county level significantly increased the risk of firearm-related deaths in children and youth aged 5-24 years in the United States, based on a review of approximately 67,000 fatalities.

Firearms are the second-leading cause of death in children and young adults in the United States, according to data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, wrote Jefferson T. Barrett, MD, of The Children’s Hospital at Montefiore, New York, and colleagues. County-level poverty has been associated with increased injury mortality in children, but the association between county-level poverty and firearm-related mortality in particular has not been well studied.

In a cross-sectional study published in JAMA Pediatrics, 67,905 firearm-related deaths in children and youth aged 5-24 years that occurred between Jan. 1, 2007, and Dec. 31, 2016 were analyzed. The deaths included 42,512 homicides (62.6%), 23,034 suicides (33.9%), and 1,627 unintentional deaths (2.4%).

County poverty data were acquired from the U.S. Census Bureau. County-level poverty was divided into five categories based on percentage of the population living below the federal poverty level: 0%-4.9%, 5%-9.9%, 10%-14.9%, 15%-19.9%, and 20% or more.

Overall, 88.6% of the total deaths were in males. Notably, 44.8% of total firearm-related deaths and 63.9% of homicides occurred in non-Hispanic Blacks, who make up only 14% of the youth population in the United States, the researchers wrote.

The total number of firearm-related deaths was 248 in the lowest quintile of poverty concentration, followed by 6,841, 18,551, 27,305, and 14,960 in the remaining quintiles.

In a multivariate regression model that included demographics, urban versus rural, and statewide firearm prevalence, youth in counties with the highest quintile of poverty concentration had an increased rate of total firearm-related deaths (adjusted incidence rate ratio, 2.29), as well as increased rates of homicides, suicides, and unintentional deaths (aIRR, 3.55, 1.45, and 9.32, respectively), compared with those living in the lowest quintile of poverty concentration. Individuals in the highest poverty quintile accounted for 22.0% of total firearm-related deaths, 25.5% of homicides, 15.3% of suicides, and 25.1% of unintentional deaths.

The researchers also calculated the population-attributable fraction (PAF) and years of potential life lost. “The PAF represents the proportion of deaths associated with a particular exposure, which was concentrated county poverty in this study,” they explained. The PAF for all firearm-related deaths was 0.51, PAFs for homicides, suicides, and unintentional deaths were 0.66, 0.30, and 0.86, respectively. The PAF calculation translated to 34,292 firearm-related deaths that may not have occurred if youth in all counties had the same risk as those in counties with the lowest poverty concentration.

“Over the 10-year study period, we observed 3,833,105 years of potential life lost in youth aged 5-24 years from firearm-related deaths,” the researchers wrote.

The study findings were limited by several factors including the potential bias of a cross-section design, and inability to account for all the ways that county-level poverty might increase the risk of firearm-related death in children and teens, the researchers noted. Other potential limitations include possible misclassification of death, lack of data on individual family incomes, shifts in counties in the poverty categories over time, and the use of statewide, rather than countywide, estimates of firearm ownership.

However, the results are consistent with those of previous studies, and add that “mortality rates were consistent even after controlling for demographic variables, county urbanicity, and statewide firearm prevalence,” the researchers concluded.
 

Address structural racism to reduce disparities

“Firearm-related homicides among youth aged 5-24 years are among the causes of death with the greatest disparities,” based on CDC fatal injury reports, wrote Alice M. Ellyson, PhD, Frederick P. Rivara, MD, and Ali Rowhani-Rahbar, MD, all of the University of Washington, Seattle, in an accompanying editorial.

The current study builds on previous research, including studies showing an association between income inequality and firearm-related homicide, they said. More research is needed to determine how to intervene in the pathways between poverty and firearm-related death. For example, if access to high-quality health care is a factor, programs to increase access to health insurance, such as the Affordable Care Act and Children’s Health Insurance Program, or to increase access to high-quality trauma care may help reduce firearm-related death in youth.

“The study of where, how, and why racism operates as a factor in both poverty and firearm-related death must continue, especially considering the disparities consistently documented in Alaska Native or American Indian, Black, and Hispanic communities,” the editorialists wrote.

“Key potential mechanisms for reducing the consequences of poverty for firearm-related death are often denied to racial and ethnic minority groups through a variety of structures, policies, and systems in health care, employment, housing, transportation, and education,” they emphasized, and the impact of racism, not only on the pathways to poverty, but also on mediators between poverty and firearm-related death, must be explored.

Findings spotlight need to for poverty programs

The study was an interesting look at the specific relationship between poverty and firearm-related deaths in people aged younger than 25 years in the United States, Tim Joos, MD, of Seattle said in an interview.

“Although America is not a poor country, the combination of poverty within America and its unique gun culture seems to prove deadly for its youth,” Dr. Joos said. “The strongest relationship is between firearm-related homicide and poverty, but unintentional firearm deaths and poverty also are clearly linked, whereas the link between firearm-related suicide and poverty appears to be present, but small.”.

In the current study, “the authors note that firearm deaths are the second-leading cause of death among all people ages 15-24 years,” said Dr. Joos. “Many of us have followed children from infancy just to have them meet this untimely end as adolescents, wishing we had a vaccine or other remedy in our toolbelt for this particular scourge.

“As our country currently debates the size of the social safety net, this study is one of many that suggests government programs aimed at poverty alleviation would substantially contribute to the health of American youth,” Dr. Joos added.

The study received no outside funding. Lead author Dr. Barrett had no financial conflicts to disclose. Dr. Ellyson disclosed funds from the CDC, the state of Washington, and the Grandmothers Against Gun Violence Foundation for research outside the submitted work. Dr. Rivara disclosed funds from the National Institutes of Health, the State of Washington, and the National Collaborative on Gun Violence Research for research outside the submitted work. Dr. Rowhani-Rahbar disclosed funds from the CDC, National Institutes of Health, National Collaborative on Gun Violence Research, Fund for a Safer Future, and state of Washington for research outside the submitted work. Dr. Joos had no financial conflicts to disclose, but serves on the editorial advisory board of Pediatric News.

Higher poverty concentration at the county level significantly increased the risk of firearm-related deaths in children and youth aged 5-24 years in the United States, based on a review of approximately 67,000 fatalities.

Firearms are the second-leading cause of death in children and young adults in the United States, according to data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, wrote Jefferson T. Barrett, MD, of The Children’s Hospital at Montefiore, New York, and colleagues. County-level poverty has been associated with increased injury mortality in children, but the association between county-level poverty and firearm-related mortality in particular has not been well studied.

In a cross-sectional study published in JAMA Pediatrics, 67,905 firearm-related deaths in children and youth aged 5-24 years that occurred between Jan. 1, 2007, and Dec. 31, 2016 were analyzed. The deaths included 42,512 homicides (62.6%), 23,034 suicides (33.9%), and 1,627 unintentional deaths (2.4%).

County poverty data were acquired from the U.S. Census Bureau. County-level poverty was divided into five categories based on percentage of the population living below the federal poverty level: 0%-4.9%, 5%-9.9%, 10%-14.9%, 15%-19.9%, and 20% or more.

Overall, 88.6% of the total deaths were in males. Notably, 44.8% of total firearm-related deaths and 63.9% of homicides occurred in non-Hispanic Blacks, who make up only 14% of the youth population in the United States, the researchers wrote.

The total number of firearm-related deaths was 248 in the lowest quintile of poverty concentration, followed by 6,841, 18,551, 27,305, and 14,960 in the remaining quintiles.

In a multivariate regression model that included demographics, urban versus rural, and statewide firearm prevalence, youth in counties with the highest quintile of poverty concentration had an increased rate of total firearm-related deaths (adjusted incidence rate ratio, 2.29), as well as increased rates of homicides, suicides, and unintentional deaths (aIRR, 3.55, 1.45, and 9.32, respectively), compared with those living in the lowest quintile of poverty concentration. Individuals in the highest poverty quintile accounted for 22.0% of total firearm-related deaths, 25.5% of homicides, 15.3% of suicides, and 25.1% of unintentional deaths.

The researchers also calculated the population-attributable fraction (PAF) and years of potential life lost. “The PAF represents the proportion of deaths associated with a particular exposure, which was concentrated county poverty in this study,” they explained. The PAF for all firearm-related deaths was 0.51, PAFs for homicides, suicides, and unintentional deaths were 0.66, 0.30, and 0.86, respectively. The PAF calculation translated to 34,292 firearm-related deaths that may not have occurred if youth in all counties had the same risk as those in counties with the lowest poverty concentration.

“Over the 10-year study period, we observed 3,833,105 years of potential life lost in youth aged 5-24 years from firearm-related deaths,” the researchers wrote.

The study findings were limited by several factors including the potential bias of a cross-section design, and inability to account for all the ways that county-level poverty might increase the risk of firearm-related death in children and teens, the researchers noted. Other potential limitations include possible misclassification of death, lack of data on individual family incomes, shifts in counties in the poverty categories over time, and the use of statewide, rather than countywide, estimates of firearm ownership.

However, the results are consistent with those of previous studies, and add that “mortality rates were consistent even after controlling for demographic variables, county urbanicity, and statewide firearm prevalence,” the researchers concluded.
 

Address structural racism to reduce disparities

“Firearm-related homicides among youth aged 5-24 years are among the causes of death with the greatest disparities,” based on CDC fatal injury reports, wrote Alice M. Ellyson, PhD, Frederick P. Rivara, MD, and Ali Rowhani-Rahbar, MD, all of the University of Washington, Seattle, in an accompanying editorial.

The current study builds on previous research, including studies showing an association between income inequality and firearm-related homicide, they said. More research is needed to determine how to intervene in the pathways between poverty and firearm-related death. For example, if access to high-quality health care is a factor, programs to increase access to health insurance, such as the Affordable Care Act and Children’s Health Insurance Program, or to increase access to high-quality trauma care may help reduce firearm-related death in youth.

“The study of where, how, and why racism operates as a factor in both poverty and firearm-related death must continue, especially considering the disparities consistently documented in Alaska Native or American Indian, Black, and Hispanic communities,” the editorialists wrote.

“Key potential mechanisms for reducing the consequences of poverty for firearm-related death are often denied to racial and ethnic minority groups through a variety of structures, policies, and systems in health care, employment, housing, transportation, and education,” they emphasized, and the impact of racism, not only on the pathways to poverty, but also on mediators between poverty and firearm-related death, must be explored.

Findings spotlight need to for poverty programs

The study was an interesting look at the specific relationship between poverty and firearm-related deaths in people aged younger than 25 years in the United States, Tim Joos, MD, of Seattle said in an interview.

“Although America is not a poor country, the combination of poverty within America and its unique gun culture seems to prove deadly for its youth,” Dr. Joos said. “The strongest relationship is between firearm-related homicide and poverty, but unintentional firearm deaths and poverty also are clearly linked, whereas the link between firearm-related suicide and poverty appears to be present, but small.”.

In the current study, “the authors note that firearm deaths are the second-leading cause of death among all people ages 15-24 years,” said Dr. Joos. “Many of us have followed children from infancy just to have them meet this untimely end as adolescents, wishing we had a vaccine or other remedy in our toolbelt for this particular scourge.

“As our country currently debates the size of the social safety net, this study is one of many that suggests government programs aimed at poverty alleviation would substantially contribute to the health of American youth,” Dr. Joos added.

The study received no outside funding. Lead author Dr. Barrett had no financial conflicts to disclose. Dr. Ellyson disclosed funds from the CDC, the state of Washington, and the Grandmothers Against Gun Violence Foundation for research outside the submitted work. Dr. Rivara disclosed funds from the National Institutes of Health, the State of Washington, and the National Collaborative on Gun Violence Research for research outside the submitted work. Dr. Rowhani-Rahbar disclosed funds from the CDC, National Institutes of Health, National Collaborative on Gun Violence Research, Fund for a Safer Future, and state of Washington for research outside the submitted work. Dr. Joos had no financial conflicts to disclose, but serves on the editorial advisory board of Pediatric News.

Higher poverty concentration at the county level significantly increased the risk of firearm-related deaths in children and youth aged 5-24 years in the United States, based on a review of approximately 67,000 fatalities.

Firearms are the second-leading cause of death in children and young adults in the United States, according to data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, wrote Jefferson T. Barrett, MD, of The Children’s Hospital at Montefiore, New York, and colleagues. County-level poverty has been associated with increased injury mortality in children, but the association between county-level poverty and firearm-related mortality in particular has not been well studied.

In a cross-sectional study published in JAMA Pediatrics, 67,905 firearm-related deaths in children and youth aged 5-24 years that occurred between Jan. 1, 2007, and Dec. 31, 2016 were analyzed. The deaths included 42,512 homicides (62.6%), 23,034 suicides (33.9%), and 1,627 unintentional deaths (2.4%).

County poverty data were acquired from the U.S. Census Bureau. County-level poverty was divided into five categories based on percentage of the population living below the federal poverty level: 0%-4.9%, 5%-9.9%, 10%-14.9%, 15%-19.9%, and 20% or more.

Overall, 88.6% of the total deaths were in males. Notably, 44.8% of total firearm-related deaths and 63.9% of homicides occurred in non-Hispanic Blacks, who make up only 14% of the youth population in the United States, the researchers wrote.

The total number of firearm-related deaths was 248 in the lowest quintile of poverty concentration, followed by 6,841, 18,551, 27,305, and 14,960 in the remaining quintiles.

In a multivariate regression model that included demographics, urban versus rural, and statewide firearm prevalence, youth in counties with the highest quintile of poverty concentration had an increased rate of total firearm-related deaths (adjusted incidence rate ratio, 2.29), as well as increased rates of homicides, suicides, and unintentional deaths (aIRR, 3.55, 1.45, and 9.32, respectively), compared with those living in the lowest quintile of poverty concentration. Individuals in the highest poverty quintile accounted for 22.0% of total firearm-related deaths, 25.5% of homicides, 15.3% of suicides, and 25.1% of unintentional deaths.

The researchers also calculated the population-attributable fraction (PAF) and years of potential life lost. “The PAF represents the proportion of deaths associated with a particular exposure, which was concentrated county poverty in this study,” they explained. The PAF for all firearm-related deaths was 0.51, PAFs for homicides, suicides, and unintentional deaths were 0.66, 0.30, and 0.86, respectively. The PAF calculation translated to 34,292 firearm-related deaths that may not have occurred if youth in all counties had the same risk as those in counties with the lowest poverty concentration.

“Over the 10-year study period, we observed 3,833,105 years of potential life lost in youth aged 5-24 years from firearm-related deaths,” the researchers wrote.

The study findings were limited by several factors including the potential bias of a cross-section design, and inability to account for all the ways that county-level poverty might increase the risk of firearm-related death in children and teens, the researchers noted. Other potential limitations include possible misclassification of death, lack of data on individual family incomes, shifts in counties in the poverty categories over time, and the use of statewide, rather than countywide, estimates of firearm ownership.

However, the results are consistent with those of previous studies, and add that “mortality rates were consistent even after controlling for demographic variables, county urbanicity, and statewide firearm prevalence,” the researchers concluded.
 

Address structural racism to reduce disparities

“Firearm-related homicides among youth aged 5-24 years are among the causes of death with the greatest disparities,” based on CDC fatal injury reports, wrote Alice M. Ellyson, PhD, Frederick P. Rivara, MD, and Ali Rowhani-Rahbar, MD, all of the University of Washington, Seattle, in an accompanying editorial.

The current study builds on previous research, including studies showing an association between income inequality and firearm-related homicide, they said. More research is needed to determine how to intervene in the pathways between poverty and firearm-related death. For example, if access to high-quality health care is a factor, programs to increase access to health insurance, such as the Affordable Care Act and Children’s Health Insurance Program, or to increase access to high-quality trauma care may help reduce firearm-related death in youth.

“The study of where, how, and why racism operates as a factor in both poverty and firearm-related death must continue, especially considering the disparities consistently documented in Alaska Native or American Indian, Black, and Hispanic communities,” the editorialists wrote.

“Key potential mechanisms for reducing the consequences of poverty for firearm-related death are often denied to racial and ethnic minority groups through a variety of structures, policies, and systems in health care, employment, housing, transportation, and education,” they emphasized, and the impact of racism, not only on the pathways to poverty, but also on mediators between poverty and firearm-related death, must be explored.

Findings spotlight need to for poverty programs

The study was an interesting look at the specific relationship between poverty and firearm-related deaths in people aged younger than 25 years in the United States, Tim Joos, MD, of Seattle said in an interview.

“Although America is not a poor country, the combination of poverty within America and its unique gun culture seems to prove deadly for its youth,” Dr. Joos said. “The strongest relationship is between firearm-related homicide and poverty, but unintentional firearm deaths and poverty also are clearly linked, whereas the link between firearm-related suicide and poverty appears to be present, but small.”.

In the current study, “the authors note that firearm deaths are the second-leading cause of death among all people ages 15-24 years,” said Dr. Joos. “Many of us have followed children from infancy just to have them meet this untimely end as adolescents, wishing we had a vaccine or other remedy in our toolbelt for this particular scourge.

“As our country currently debates the size of the social safety net, this study is one of many that suggests government programs aimed at poverty alleviation would substantially contribute to the health of American youth,” Dr. Joos added.

The study received no outside funding. Lead author Dr. Barrett had no financial conflicts to disclose. Dr. Ellyson disclosed funds from the CDC, the state of Washington, and the Grandmothers Against Gun Violence Foundation for research outside the submitted work. Dr. Rivara disclosed funds from the National Institutes of Health, the State of Washington, and the National Collaborative on Gun Violence Research for research outside the submitted work. Dr. Rowhani-Rahbar disclosed funds from the CDC, National Institutes of Health, National Collaborative on Gun Violence Research, Fund for a Safer Future, and state of Washington for research outside the submitted work. Dr. Joos had no financial conflicts to disclose, but serves on the editorial advisory board of Pediatric News.

Religion and masculine ideology remain significant social cultural barriers to sexual health in Hispanic gay or bisexual men, according to new qualitative research presented at the 2021 Association of Nurses in AIDS Care conference. The pilot study also found that these men learned more sexual health information from friends and social networks than from their health care professionals.

“There’s still so much we do not know about cultural factors and the different levels of influence that shape sexual health promotion beliefs among Latinos, but moreover in Latino same-gender–loving men,” lead author Lisvel Matos, MSN, FNP-C, WHNP-BC, a PhD candidate at Duke University’s School of Nursing, Durham, N.C., said in an interview. Ms. Matos prefers the term same-gender–loving men (SGLM) over men who have sex with men, as the latter term is more clinical and can be stigmatizing.

In Ms. Matos’ 10 years of working in nursing, she noticed that this lack of understanding about sexual health in Hispanic SGLM impeded culturally relevant interventions in this population. “When we don’t have the evidence to show what’s effective for these populations,” she said, “then we’re kind of working blind.”

To get a better sense of social cultural barriers that influence sexual health, Ms. Matos and colleagues conducted 60- to 75-minute interviews with Hispanic SGLM through the secure web conferencing app WebEx from October 2020 to October 2021. The study used the World Health Organization’s definition of sexual health: “a state of physical, emotional, mental and social well-being in relation to sexuality; it is not merely the absence of disease, dysfunction or infirmity.” The pilot study included 15 individuals, 8 of whom were born outside of the United States. The mean age of participants was 31.4 years, and 47% reported being single and sexually active. 93% of participants said they were aware of pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP), and 47% reported using PrEP.

Ms. Matos identified three common themes in barriers to sexual health in these men: sexual silence, religion, and machismo, a term meaning aggressive masculine pride and patriarchal ideas of manhood. “Because of social constructs, because of what it meant to be a man, [sexual health] was a very difficult subject in adolescence,” said one participant in a quote included on the poster. “I definitely believe in Christianity, and I think that has affected my sexual preference,” said another quoted individual. “It came into that Catholic guilt where you always feel bad.”

More than half of the study participants reported not having access to health care at one time in their life, because of lack of insurance or other factors such as feeling uncomfortable or even dehumanized by health care professionals. Most men said they learned about sexual health, including PrEP, from dating apps like Grindr or friend-based social media platforms rather than in care settings. Ms. Matos, who presented the study at the conference, received the Student Poster Research Award for her work.

The findings are “a good reminder for providers” that these barriers, which have been identified for decades, are still major impediments to sexual health in Hispanic SGLM, both individually and at the clinic level, Dalmacio Dennis Flores, PhD, ACRN, an assistant professor at the University of Pennsylvania School of Nursing, Philadelphia, said in an interview. He was not involved with the work. “We need to be in a space to normalize their attractions, behaviors, and identities and then help them to be more confident about it,” he noted.

Self-confidence as well as trust in sexual partners and health providers were factors that helped these men overcome this negative messaging and sociocultural stigmas, Ms. Matos found.

“The fact that [the researchers] have individual level data about the experiences of this group of men can inform how we develop clinic-level structures that can, for example, promote trust with the provider,” added Kamila Alexander, PhD, MPH, RN, an assistant professor and associate director of PhD and postdoctoral programs at Johns Hopkins University’s School of Nursing, Baltimore.

Dr. Alexander, who was not involved with the research, added that the small study is a good starting point to better inform culturally relevant care for populations marginalized by society, like Hispanic SGLM, and to challenge ingrained stereotypes around religion, masculinity, and sexuality. The researchers “highlighted these intersectional stigmas that have a lot to do with structural factors,” she said, “and those things are really ripe for intervention.”

Ms. Matos, Dr. Flores, and Dr. Alexander disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Religion and masculine ideology remain significant social cultural barriers to sexual health in Hispanic gay or bisexual men, according to new qualitative research presented at the 2021 Association of Nurses in AIDS Care conference. The pilot study also found that these men learned more sexual health information from friends and social networks than from their health care professionals.

“There’s still so much we do not know about cultural factors and the different levels of influence that shape sexual health promotion beliefs among Latinos, but moreover in Latino same-gender–loving men,” lead author Lisvel Matos, MSN, FNP-C, WHNP-BC, a PhD candidate at Duke University’s School of Nursing, Durham, N.C., said in an interview. Ms. Matos prefers the term same-gender–loving men (SGLM) over men who have sex with men, as the latter term is more clinical and can be stigmatizing.

In Ms. Matos’ 10 years of working in nursing, she noticed that this lack of understanding about sexual health in Hispanic SGLM impeded culturally relevant interventions in this population. “When we don’t have the evidence to show what’s effective for these populations,” she said, “then we’re kind of working blind.”

To get a better sense of social cultural barriers that influence sexual health, Ms. Matos and colleagues conducted 60- to 75-minute interviews with Hispanic SGLM through the secure web conferencing app WebEx from October 2020 to October 2021. The study used the World Health Organization’s definition of sexual health: “a state of physical, emotional, mental and social well-being in relation to sexuality; it is not merely the absence of disease, dysfunction or infirmity.” The pilot study included 15 individuals, 8 of whom were born outside of the United States. The mean age of participants was 31.4 years, and 47% reported being single and sexually active. 93% of participants said they were aware of pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP), and 47% reported using PrEP.

Ms. Matos identified three common themes in barriers to sexual health in these men: sexual silence, religion, and machismo, a term meaning aggressive masculine pride and patriarchal ideas of manhood. “Because of social constructs, because of what it meant to be a man, [sexual health] was a very difficult subject in adolescence,” said one participant in a quote included on the poster. “I definitely believe in Christianity, and I think that has affected my sexual preference,” said another quoted individual. “It came into that Catholic guilt where you always feel bad.”

More than half of the study participants reported not having access to health care at one time in their life, because of lack of insurance or other factors such as feeling uncomfortable or even dehumanized by health care professionals. Most men said they learned about sexual health, including PrEP, from dating apps like Grindr or friend-based social media platforms rather than in care settings. Ms. Matos, who presented the study at the conference, received the Student Poster Research Award for her work.

The findings are “a good reminder for providers” that these barriers, which have been identified for decades, are still major impediments to sexual health in Hispanic SGLM, both individually and at the clinic level, Dalmacio Dennis Flores, PhD, ACRN, an assistant professor at the University of Pennsylvania School of Nursing, Philadelphia, said in an interview. He was not involved with the work. “We need to be in a space to normalize their attractions, behaviors, and identities and then help them to be more confident about it,” he noted.

Self-confidence as well as trust in sexual partners and health providers were factors that helped these men overcome this negative messaging and sociocultural stigmas, Ms. Matos found.

“The fact that [the researchers] have individual level data about the experiences of this group of men can inform how we develop clinic-level structures that can, for example, promote trust with the provider,” added Kamila Alexander, PhD, MPH, RN, an assistant professor and associate director of PhD and postdoctoral programs at Johns Hopkins University’s School of Nursing, Baltimore.

Dr. Alexander, who was not involved with the research, added that the small study is a good starting point to better inform culturally relevant care for populations marginalized by society, like Hispanic SGLM, and to challenge ingrained stereotypes around religion, masculinity, and sexuality. The researchers “highlighted these intersectional stigmas that have a lot to do with structural factors,” she said, “and those things are really ripe for intervention.”

Ms. Matos, Dr. Flores, and Dr. Alexander disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Religion and masculine ideology remain significant social cultural barriers to sexual health in Hispanic gay or bisexual men, according to new qualitative research presented at the 2021 Association of Nurses in AIDS Care conference. The pilot study also found that these men learned more sexual health information from friends and social networks than from their health care professionals.

“There’s still so much we do not know about cultural factors and the different levels of influence that shape sexual health promotion beliefs among Latinos, but moreover in Latino same-gender–loving men,” lead author Lisvel Matos, MSN, FNP-C, WHNP-BC, a PhD candidate at Duke University’s School of Nursing, Durham, N.C., said in an interview. Ms. Matos prefers the term same-gender–loving men (SGLM) over men who have sex with men, as the latter term is more clinical and can be stigmatizing.

In Ms. Matos’ 10 years of working in nursing, she noticed that this lack of understanding about sexual health in Hispanic SGLM impeded culturally relevant interventions in this population. “When we don’t have the evidence to show what’s effective for these populations,” she said, “then we’re kind of working blind.”

To get a better sense of social cultural barriers that influence sexual health, Ms. Matos and colleagues conducted 60- to 75-minute interviews with Hispanic SGLM through the secure web conferencing app WebEx from October 2020 to October 2021. The study used the World Health Organization’s definition of sexual health: “a state of physical, emotional, mental and social well-being in relation to sexuality; it is not merely the absence of disease, dysfunction or infirmity.” The pilot study included 15 individuals, 8 of whom were born outside of the United States. The mean age of participants was 31.4 years, and 47% reported being single and sexually active. 93% of participants said they were aware of pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP), and 47% reported using PrEP.

Ms. Matos identified three common themes in barriers to sexual health in these men: sexual silence, religion, and machismo, a term meaning aggressive masculine pride and patriarchal ideas of manhood. “Because of social constructs, because of what it meant to be a man, [sexual health] was a very difficult subject in adolescence,” said one participant in a quote included on the poster. “I definitely believe in Christianity, and I think that has affected my sexual preference,” said another quoted individual. “It came into that Catholic guilt where you always feel bad.”

More than half of the study participants reported not having access to health care at one time in their life, because of lack of insurance or other factors such as feeling uncomfortable or even dehumanized by health care professionals. Most men said they learned about sexual health, including PrEP, from dating apps like Grindr or friend-based social media platforms rather than in care settings. Ms. Matos, who presented the study at the conference, received the Student Poster Research Award for her work.

The findings are “a good reminder for providers” that these barriers, which have been identified for decades, are still major impediments to sexual health in Hispanic SGLM, both individually and at the clinic level, Dalmacio Dennis Flores, PhD, ACRN, an assistant professor at the University of Pennsylvania School of Nursing, Philadelphia, said in an interview. He was not involved with the work. “We need to be in a space to normalize their attractions, behaviors, and identities and then help them to be more confident about it,” he noted.

Self-confidence as well as trust in sexual partners and health providers were factors that helped these men overcome this negative messaging and sociocultural stigmas, Ms. Matos found.

“The fact that [the researchers] have individual level data about the experiences of this group of men can inform how we develop clinic-level structures that can, for example, promote trust with the provider,” added Kamila Alexander, PhD, MPH, RN, an assistant professor and associate director of PhD and postdoctoral programs at Johns Hopkins University’s School of Nursing, Baltimore.

Dr. Alexander, who was not involved with the research, added that the small study is a good starting point to better inform culturally relevant care for populations marginalized by society, like Hispanic SGLM, and to challenge ingrained stereotypes around religion, masculinity, and sexuality. The researchers “highlighted these intersectional stigmas that have a lot to do with structural factors,” she said, “and those things are really ripe for intervention.”

Ms. Matos, Dr. Flores, and Dr. Alexander disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Joel Bervell recalls leaving his hometown of Seattle for the East Coast after being accepted into Yale University.

Still getting accustomed to the big move, Mr. Bervell, who had breezed through high school with straight As, went to see his chemistry professor for advice after getting a low grade on a test.

“He took one look at me and said, ‘Oh, if you’re on the football team, you don’t need to worry about it. So many people from the football team come into the class and end up dropping out, so if you need to drop this class, you can,’ ” Mr. Bervell says.

Mr. Bervell, who is Black, was not on the football team, nor did he receive a sports scholarship of any kind.

“For that professor to make an assumption of me, which to me felt like it was based on my race, made me less likely to want to go into a science field, where I felt like I was being judged before I even had a chance to prove myself,” Mr. Bervell says.

Discrimination can lead to particularly harmful outcomes for young adults entering college or starting off their careers, according to a new University of California, Los Angeles, study.

Researchers studied health data on 1,834 Americans ages 18-28 over a 10-year span. Findings show that the more instances of discrimination they experienced – including ageism, sexism, and racism – the more likely they were to face mental and behavioral struggles, like mental illness, drug use, severe psychological distress, and poor overall health.

Mr. Bervell, now 26, says he feels lucky that growing up, he was taught healthy ways to process his feelings and emotions.

“Instead of taking that and internalizing it, I said, ‘how can I use this to prove him wrong?’” he says. “Does that mean I need to work harder or does that mean I need to find a different mentor? Surround myself with different people?”

Mr. Bervell is currently a 3rd-year medical student at Washington State University.

When he’s not at the hospital seeing patients, you can find him educating his nearly 340,000 TikTok followers on topics like racial bias in medicine.
 

Acknowledge the impact

Most Black people don’t tie psychological distress to acts of racism, according to Rheeda Walker, PhD, psychology professor at the University of Houston and author of “The Unapologetic Guide to Black Mental Health” (Oakland, Calif.: New Harbinger Publications, 2020).

Many Black people even normalize it.

“Individuals deal with it [racism] as just another thing, like paying bills, going to work, and studying for class and not as the overwhelming psychological burden that it is,” says Dr. Walker.

And despite what some may say, racial discrimination is not merely “a thing of the past,” Dr. Walker says.

“Instead, discrimination has shifted form from more overt forms of discrimination to less obvious microaggression,” she says.

It’s also critical that young adults are taught how to deal with racism to avoid the risk of “internalizing that they deserve to be mistreated, and/or that they have to work twice as hard to overcome racism,” says Dr. Walker.

“Both scenarios can escalate hopelessness and worry, psychological features of depression and anxiety, respectively,” Dr. Walker says.
 

Embrace your emotions

Known around the office as “a big teddy bear,” Frederick Herman, a mortgage loan originator based in Charlotte, Va., was coaching a newer employee on how to make sales calls, a common practice in his line of work.

He says a day or 2 days later, his manager let him know that he had made an employee “very uncomfortable” by intimidating them while they were on the phone. Mr. Herman, 29, was told to watch his “aggressive” behavior.

“I’m a bigger Black man. I’m like 6’2, 300 lbs., somewhat muscular. So, if me talking or trying to coach her came off as intimidating, then there’s nothing that I could do or say differently than I was already doing to make her not feel intimidated,” Mr. Herman says.

“If a big teddy bear is now intimidating to you, that just tells me everything I need to know.”

This wasn’t the first time Mr. Herman had been reprimanded for being “too aggressive” or “showing off” when trying to help colleagues at work.

“I’ve had other experiences at work where I may not share my ideas, or I may get super anxious,” says Mr. Herman, a Black man of Haitian descent.

It’s important to allow yourself to feel your emotions after facing acts of discrimination, says Ebony Butler, PhD, a licensed psychologist and creator of My Therapy Cards, a card deck tailored for men, women, and teens of color, with self-care and reflection prompts.

This is a practice called “self-validation” and can reduce the tendency to blame oneself for the mistreatment, says Dr. Butler.

Mr. Herman, 29, says that he recently signed up for therapy to work through his struggles with anxiety.

Relaxation techniques, like grounding and mindfulness, can also be helpful, says Dr. Butler.

“Some example ways to practice grounding are immersing oneself in nature, walking bare feet on the ground, lying on the floor, practicing slow, deep breathing, or engaging the senses,” she says.

“When we are grounded and present, we can better manage our responses and plan our action steps.”
 

Utilize unique

If you find yourself in a racially charged school or workplace setting, don’t be intimidated, says Wendy Osefo, PhD, education professor at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, political commentator, and television personality.

Dr. Osefo made history in 2016 as the first Black woman to earn a PhD in public affairs/community development from Rutgers University.

“Your attitude should be that, no matter how different you might be, you belong, and you earned the right to occupy this space. You’re not less qualified than others who surround you,” she says.

Dr. Ofeso is also CEO of The 1954 Equity Project, an organization that gives minority students tools to succeed in higher education – like mentorships, peer support groups, and other resources and services – all while remaining their authentic selves.

No matter how uncomfortable it might be, staying true to who you are vs. conforming to the masses pays off, says Dr. Osefo.

“Being different is unique and allows you to bring a new and fresh perspective into an environment,” she says.

“Leaning into this uniqueness builds a level of confidence that will aid in your ability to be successful.”

A version of this article first appeared on WebMD.com.

Joel Bervell recalls leaving his hometown of Seattle for the East Coast after being accepted into Yale University.

Still getting accustomed to the big move, Mr. Bervell, who had breezed through high school with straight As, went to see his chemistry professor for advice after getting a low grade on a test.

“He took one look at me and said, ‘Oh, if you’re on the football team, you don’t need to worry about it. So many people from the football team come into the class and end up dropping out, so if you need to drop this class, you can,’ ” Mr. Bervell says.

Mr. Bervell, who is Black, was not on the football team, nor did he receive a sports scholarship of any kind.

“For that professor to make an assumption of me, which to me felt like it was based on my race, made me less likely to want to go into a science field, where I felt like I was being judged before I even had a chance to prove myself,” Mr. Bervell says.

Discrimination can lead to particularly harmful outcomes for young adults entering college or starting off their careers, according to a new University of California, Los Angeles, study.

Researchers studied health data on 1,834 Americans ages 18-28 over a 10-year span. Findings show that the more instances of discrimination they experienced – including ageism, sexism, and racism – the more likely they were to face mental and behavioral struggles, like mental illness, drug use, severe psychological distress, and poor overall health.

Mr. Bervell, now 26, says he feels lucky that growing up, he was taught healthy ways to process his feelings and emotions.

“Instead of taking that and internalizing it, I said, ‘how can I use this to prove him wrong?’” he says. “Does that mean I need to work harder or does that mean I need to find a different mentor? Surround myself with different people?”

Mr. Bervell is currently a 3rd-year medical student at Washington State University.

When he’s not at the hospital seeing patients, you can find him educating his nearly 340,000 TikTok followers on topics like racial bias in medicine.
 

Acknowledge the impact

Most Black people don’t tie psychological distress to acts of racism, according to Rheeda Walker, PhD, psychology professor at the University of Houston and author of “The Unapologetic Guide to Black Mental Health” (Oakland, Calif.: New Harbinger Publications, 2020).

Many Black people even normalize it.

“Individuals deal with it [racism] as just another thing, like paying bills, going to work, and studying for class and not as the overwhelming psychological burden that it is,” says Dr. Walker.

And despite what some may say, racial discrimination is not merely “a thing of the past,” Dr. Walker says.

“Instead, discrimination has shifted form from more overt forms of discrimination to less obvious microaggression,” she says.

It’s also critical that young adults are taught how to deal with racism to avoid the risk of “internalizing that they deserve to be mistreated, and/or that they have to work twice as hard to overcome racism,” says Dr. Walker.

“Both scenarios can escalate hopelessness and worry, psychological features of depression and anxiety, respectively,” Dr. Walker says.
 

Embrace your emotions

Known around the office as “a big teddy bear,” Frederick Herman, a mortgage loan originator based in Charlotte, Va., was coaching a newer employee on how to make sales calls, a common practice in his line of work.

He says a day or 2 days later, his manager let him know that he had made an employee “very uncomfortable” by intimidating them while they were on the phone. Mr. Herman, 29, was told to watch his “aggressive” behavior.

“I’m a bigger Black man. I’m like 6’2, 300 lbs., somewhat muscular. So, if me talking or trying to coach her came off as intimidating, then there’s nothing that I could do or say differently than I was already doing to make her not feel intimidated,” Mr. Herman says.

“If a big teddy bear is now intimidating to you, that just tells me everything I need to know.”

This wasn’t the first time Mr. Herman had been reprimanded for being “too aggressive” or “showing off” when trying to help colleagues at work.

“I’ve had other experiences at work where I may not share my ideas, or I may get super anxious,” says Mr. Herman, a Black man of Haitian descent.

It’s important to allow yourself to feel your emotions after facing acts of discrimination, says Ebony Butler, PhD, a licensed psychologist and creator of My Therapy Cards, a card deck tailored for men, women, and teens of color, with self-care and reflection prompts.

This is a practice called “self-validation” and can reduce the tendency to blame oneself for the mistreatment, says Dr. Butler.

Mr. Herman, 29, says that he recently signed up for therapy to work through his struggles with anxiety.

Relaxation techniques, like grounding and mindfulness, can also be helpful, says Dr. Butler.

“Some example ways to practice grounding are immersing oneself in nature, walking bare feet on the ground, lying on the floor, practicing slow, deep breathing, or engaging the senses,” she says.

“When we are grounded and present, we can better manage our responses and plan our action steps.”
 

Utilize unique

If you find yourself in a racially charged school or workplace setting, don’t be intimidated, says Wendy Osefo, PhD, education professor at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, political commentator, and television personality.

Dr. Osefo made history in 2016 as the first Black woman to earn a PhD in public affairs/community development from Rutgers University.

“Your attitude should be that, no matter how different you might be, you belong, and you earned the right to occupy this space. You’re not less qualified than others who surround you,” she says.

Dr. Ofeso is also CEO of The 1954 Equity Project, an organization that gives minority students tools to succeed in higher education – like mentorships, peer support groups, and other resources and services – all while remaining their authentic selves.

No matter how uncomfortable it might be, staying true to who you are vs. conforming to the masses pays off, says Dr. Osefo.

“Being different is unique and allows you to bring a new and fresh perspective into an environment,” she says.

“Leaning into this uniqueness builds a level of confidence that will aid in your ability to be successful.”

A version of this article first appeared on WebMD.com.

Joel Bervell recalls leaving his hometown of Seattle for the East Coast after being accepted into Yale University.

Still getting accustomed to the big move, Mr. Bervell, who had breezed through high school with straight As, went to see his chemistry professor for advice after getting a low grade on a test.

“He took one look at me and said, ‘Oh, if you’re on the football team, you don’t need to worry about it. So many people from the football team come into the class and end up dropping out, so if you need to drop this class, you can,’ ” Mr. Bervell says.

Mr. Bervell, who is Black, was not on the football team, nor did he receive a sports scholarship of any kind.

“For that professor to make an assumption of me, which to me felt like it was based on my race, made me less likely to want to go into a science field, where I felt like I was being judged before I even had a chance to prove myself,” Mr. Bervell says.

Discrimination can lead to particularly harmful outcomes for young adults entering college or starting off their careers, according to a new University of California, Los Angeles, study.

Researchers studied health data on 1,834 Americans ages 18-28 over a 10-year span. Findings show that the more instances of discrimination they experienced – including ageism, sexism, and racism – the more likely they were to face mental and behavioral struggles, like mental illness, drug use, severe psychological distress, and poor overall health.

Mr. Bervell, now 26, says he feels lucky that growing up, he was taught healthy ways to process his feelings and emotions.

“Instead of taking that and internalizing it, I said, ‘how can I use this to prove him wrong?’” he says. “Does that mean I need to work harder or does that mean I need to find a different mentor? Surround myself with different people?”

Mr. Bervell is currently a 3rd-year medical student at Washington State University.

When he’s not at the hospital seeing patients, you can find him educating his nearly 340,000 TikTok followers on topics like racial bias in medicine.
 

Acknowledge the impact

Most Black people don’t tie psychological distress to acts of racism, according to Rheeda Walker, PhD, psychology professor at the University of Houston and author of “The Unapologetic Guide to Black Mental Health” (Oakland, Calif.: New Harbinger Publications, 2020).

Many Black people even normalize it.

“Individuals deal with it [racism] as just another thing, like paying bills, going to work, and studying for class and not as the overwhelming psychological burden that it is,” says Dr. Walker.

And despite what some may say, racial discrimination is not merely “a thing of the past,” Dr. Walker says.

“Instead, discrimination has shifted form from more overt forms of discrimination to less obvious microaggression,” she says.

It’s also critical that young adults are taught how to deal with racism to avoid the risk of “internalizing that they deserve to be mistreated, and/or that they have to work twice as hard to overcome racism,” says Dr. Walker.

“Both scenarios can escalate hopelessness and worry, psychological features of depression and anxiety, respectively,” Dr. Walker says.
 

Embrace your emotions

Known around the office as “a big teddy bear,” Frederick Herman, a mortgage loan originator based in Charlotte, Va., was coaching a newer employee on how to make sales calls, a common practice in his line of work.

He says a day or 2 days later, his manager let him know that he had made an employee “very uncomfortable” by intimidating them while they were on the phone. Mr. Herman, 29, was told to watch his “aggressive” behavior.

“I’m a bigger Black man. I’m like 6’2, 300 lbs., somewhat muscular. So, if me talking or trying to coach her came off as intimidating, then there’s nothing that I could do or say differently than I was already doing to make her not feel intimidated,” Mr. Herman says.

“If a big teddy bear is now intimidating to you, that just tells me everything I need to know.”

This wasn’t the first time Mr. Herman had been reprimanded for being “too aggressive” or “showing off” when trying to help colleagues at work.

“I’ve had other experiences at work where I may not share my ideas, or I may get super anxious,” says Mr. Herman, a Black man of Haitian descent.

It’s important to allow yourself to feel your emotions after facing acts of discrimination, says Ebony Butler, PhD, a licensed psychologist and creator of My Therapy Cards, a card deck tailored for men, women, and teens of color, with self-care and reflection prompts.

This is a practice called “self-validation” and can reduce the tendency to blame oneself for the mistreatment, says Dr. Butler.

Mr. Herman, 29, says that he recently signed up for therapy to work through his struggles with anxiety.

Relaxation techniques, like grounding and mindfulness, can also be helpful, says Dr. Butler.

“Some example ways to practice grounding are immersing oneself in nature, walking bare feet on the ground, lying on the floor, practicing slow, deep breathing, or engaging the senses,” she says.

“When we are grounded and present, we can better manage our responses and plan our action steps.”
 

Utilize unique

If you find yourself in a racially charged school or workplace setting, don’t be intimidated, says Wendy Osefo, PhD, education professor at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, political commentator, and television personality.

Dr. Osefo made history in 2016 as the first Black woman to earn a PhD in public affairs/community development from Rutgers University.

“Your attitude should be that, no matter how different you might be, you belong, and you earned the right to occupy this space. You’re not less qualified than others who surround you,” she says.

Dr. Ofeso is also CEO of The 1954 Equity Project, an organization that gives minority students tools to succeed in higher education – like mentorships, peer support groups, and other resources and services – all while remaining their authentic selves.

No matter how uncomfortable it might be, staying true to who you are vs. conforming to the masses pays off, says Dr. Osefo.

“Being different is unique and allows you to bring a new and fresh perspective into an environment,” she says.

“Leaning into this uniqueness builds a level of confidence that will aid in your ability to be successful.”

A version of this article first appeared on WebMD.com.

My journey to becoming a family medicine physician wasn’t a linear path. However, that nonlinear path is what has led me to love this field of medicine and the connections I make with patients, while also continuing to hope for improvements within the systems that we utilize to provide care for patients.

I became interested in becoming a physician during my very last semester of college. I volunteered in a hospital psychiatric department in the unit that provided electroconvulsive therapy to patients with severe mental health diagnoses. Although this was about 15 years ago, I still vividly remember the curiosity I had walking around the hospital looking around at all the doctors and nurses and wanting to understand what their day-to-day life was like helping people to optimize their health.

Up until that time, thankfully my family and I had been relatively healthy, and, outside of routine checkups, my time spent in a hospital or clinic was limited. Therefore, those months of volunteering at the hospital were the longest periods of time I’d spent around physicians and other health care professionals really witnessing firsthand the science and the art of medicine.

During my time volunteering I saw one patient over the course of several weeks who was catatonic when I first met her, but by the end of several electroconvulsive therapy treatments she had a subtle smile on her face and we were able to have a conversation. She was a younger Black woman like myself and at that moment I knew that I wanted to become a physician and be involved in people’s lives in such a unique manner.

I worked for several years before applying to medical school. During that time two of my jobs involved doing home visits with children, young adults, and their families. I once again experienced the connection that one can make with someone and their family over a short period of time when you actively listen, understand what is important to them, and work together.

After several years of this work I got accepted into medical school and excitedly started the path to becoming a physician. While the learning curve was difficult, I genuinely enjoyed every block of medical school, including learning the anatomy, pathophysiology, and pharmacology. I could not wait to be in front of patients to use this newfound knowledge to help solve their health problems.
 

‘There is no such thing as a single issue-struggle’

As I started the third year of medical school and clinical rotations, I found joy in being in hospitals and clinics. I also came to recognize that understanding the pharmacology of why metformin helps improve the hemoglobin A1c in people with diabetes is not necessarily one of the keys to helping people optimize their health. I started to talk with patients and all sorts of questions would come to mind. Where did they grow up? What did they identify as their culture? What did they do in their day to day? Did they have a home and support at that home? Are they someone’s caretaker? What are their hopes for the future? And the list goes on.

I ultimately chose family medicine as a specialty because, as Audre Lorde said, “there is no such thing as a single-issue struggle because we do not live single-issue lives,” and family medicine allows one to look at the intersections of people’s lives and how they affect their health and well-being.

I currently practice as a family medicine physician in a setting in which I provide a lot of sexual and reproductive health care. I welcome patients of all ages and genders, and this care includes preconception counseling, contraceptive counseling, prenatal and postpartum care, STI testing and treatment, abortion care, and routine preventive care – just to name a few.

I decided to specialize in sexual and reproductive health care within family medicine because of the historic discrimination and inequitable treatment that is often experienced by young Black persons when they seek care for their sexual health and/or reproductive choices. In addition, there is often stigma within communities when it comes to talking about sex, bodies, and pleasure.

Recently, after a few minutes with a patient, she shared with me that she just completed nursing school and was studying for her exams. We talked about what type of jobs she was looking to apply for and where she wanted to work. I expressed to her that I was proud of the hard work she put in to complete nursing school and commiserated with her about the challenges in schooling and studying that it takes to start in the health care field. The conversation eventually found its way to talking about her sexual and reproductive health care. She shared with me that she was interested in having a child; however, at this time she put those plans on hold because she was scared about the racism within health care and the unacceptable high rates of maternal mortality among Black women in this country.

I listened and shared that as someone who also identifies as a Black woman, I have similar fears and anxieties surrounding my own reproductive health future. During the visit with this patient, I used my training in family medicine to better understand her physical and mental health needs and reassured her that I was going to partner with her through her health care journey.
 

Hope for the future of family medicine

As I work on a day-to-day basis I often think about my hopes for patients, as well as my hopes for medicine and the field of family medicine. My hope for the future of family medicine is that we can continue to make meaningful connections with patients to help them optimize their health and well-being.

I imagine a system in which we have the time and support to do this for all of our patients regardless of their immigration status, socioeconomic status, or any other historically excluded status. My hope for the future of family medicine is that I can write a prescription for a medication or physical therapy, and the patient is able to fill the prescription without having to worry about the financial implications of paying for it. My hope for the future of family medicine is that patients can seek out care without the fear of discrimination or racism through an increasingly diverse work force. My hope for the future of family medicine is that these improvements become a reality and that as physicians we can appreciate the connections we make with patients and the impact this has on their overall health and well-being.
 

Dr. Lockley is a family medicine physician currently living in Harlem, N.Y., and a member of the editorial advisory board of Family Practice News. She currently works for Public Health Solutions’ Sexual and Reproductive Health Centers in Brooklyn, providing primary care and reproductive health care services there, and as an abortion provider throughout the New York region. She completed both medical school and residency in Philadelphia and then did a fellowship in reproductive health care and advocacy through the Family Health Center of Harlem and the Reproductive Health Access Project. She can be reached at [email protected].

My journey to becoming a family medicine physician wasn’t a linear path. However, that nonlinear path is what has led me to love this field of medicine and the connections I make with patients, while also continuing to hope for improvements within the systems that we utilize to provide care for patients.

I became interested in becoming a physician during my very last semester of college. I volunteered in a hospital psychiatric department in the unit that provided electroconvulsive therapy to patients with severe mental health diagnoses. Although this was about 15 years ago, I still vividly remember the curiosity I had walking around the hospital looking around at all the doctors and nurses and wanting to understand what their day-to-day life was like helping people to optimize their health.

Up until that time, thankfully my family and I had been relatively healthy, and, outside of routine checkups, my time spent in a hospital or clinic was limited. Therefore, those months of volunteering at the hospital were the longest periods of time I’d spent around physicians and other health care professionals really witnessing firsthand the science and the art of medicine.

During my time volunteering I saw one patient over the course of several weeks who was catatonic when I first met her, but by the end of several electroconvulsive therapy treatments she had a subtle smile on her face and we were able to have a conversation. She was a younger Black woman like myself and at that moment I knew that I wanted to become a physician and be involved in people’s lives in such a unique manner.

I worked for several years before applying to medical school. During that time two of my jobs involved doing home visits with children, young adults, and their families. I once again experienced the connection that one can make with someone and their family over a short period of time when you actively listen, understand what is important to them, and work together.

After several years of this work I got accepted into medical school and excitedly started the path to becoming a physician. While the learning curve was difficult, I genuinely enjoyed every block of medical school, including learning the anatomy, pathophysiology, and pharmacology. I could not wait to be in front of patients to use this newfound knowledge to help solve their health problems.
 

‘There is no such thing as a single issue-struggle’

As I started the third year of medical school and clinical rotations, I found joy in being in hospitals and clinics. I also came to recognize that understanding the pharmacology of why metformin helps improve the hemoglobin A1c in people with diabetes is not necessarily one of the keys to helping people optimize their health. I started to talk with patients and all sorts of questions would come to mind. Where did they grow up? What did they identify as their culture? What did they do in their day to day? Did they have a home and support at that home? Are they someone’s caretaker? What are their hopes for the future? And the list goes on.

I ultimately chose family medicine as a specialty because, as Audre Lorde said, “there is no such thing as a single-issue struggle because we do not live single-issue lives,” and family medicine allows one to look at the intersections of people’s lives and how they affect their health and well-being.

I currently practice as a family medicine physician in a setting in which I provide a lot of sexual and reproductive health care. I welcome patients of all ages and genders, and this care includes preconception counseling, contraceptive counseling, prenatal and postpartum care, STI testing and treatment, abortion care, and routine preventive care – just to name a few.

I decided to specialize in sexual and reproductive health care within family medicine because of the historic discrimination and inequitable treatment that is often experienced by young Black persons when they seek care for their sexual health and/or reproductive choices. In addition, there is often stigma within communities when it comes to talking about sex, bodies, and pleasure.

Recently, after a few minutes with a patient, she shared with me that she just completed nursing school and was studying for her exams. We talked about what type of jobs she was looking to apply for and where she wanted to work. I expressed to her that I was proud of the hard work she put in to complete nursing school and commiserated with her about the challenges in schooling and studying that it takes to start in the health care field. The conversation eventually found its way to talking about her sexual and reproductive health care. She shared with me that she was interested in having a child; however, at this time she put those plans on hold because she was scared about the racism within health care and the unacceptable high rates of maternal mortality among Black women in this country.

I listened and shared that as someone who also identifies as a Black woman, I have similar fears and anxieties surrounding my own reproductive health future. During the visit with this patient, I used my training in family medicine to better understand her physical and mental health needs and reassured her that I was going to partner with her through her health care journey.
 

Hope for the future of family medicine

As I work on a day-to-day basis I often think about my hopes for patients, as well as my hopes for medicine and the field of family medicine. My hope for the future of family medicine is that we can continue to make meaningful connections with patients to help them optimize their health and well-being.

I imagine a system in which we have the time and support to do this for all of our patients regardless of their immigration status, socioeconomic status, or any other historically excluded status. My hope for the future of family medicine is that I can write a prescription for a medication or physical therapy, and the patient is able to fill the prescription without having to worry about the financial implications of paying for it. My hope for the future of family medicine is that patients can seek out care without the fear of discrimination or racism through an increasingly diverse work force. My hope for the future of family medicine is that these improvements become a reality and that as physicians we can appreciate the connections we make with patients and the impact this has on their overall health and well-being.
 

Dr. Lockley is a family medicine physician currently living in Harlem, N.Y., and a member of the editorial advisory board of Family Practice News. She currently works for Public Health Solutions’ Sexual and Reproductive Health Centers in Brooklyn, providing primary care and reproductive health care services there, and as an abortion provider throughout the New York region. She completed both medical school and residency in Philadelphia and then did a fellowship in reproductive health care and advocacy through the Family Health Center of Harlem and the Reproductive Health Access Project. She can be reached at [email protected].

My journey to becoming a family medicine physician wasn’t a linear path. However, that nonlinear path is what has led me to love this field of medicine and the connections I make with patients, while also continuing to hope for improvements within the systems that we utilize to provide care for patients.

I became interested in becoming a physician during my very last semester of college. I volunteered in a hospital psychiatric department in the unit that provided electroconvulsive therapy to patients with severe mental health diagnoses. Although this was about 15 years ago, I still vividly remember the curiosity I had walking around the hospital looking around at all the doctors and nurses and wanting to understand what their day-to-day life was like helping people to optimize their health.

Up until that time, thankfully my family and I had been relatively healthy, and, outside of routine checkups, my time spent in a hospital or clinic was limited. Therefore, those months of volunteering at the hospital were the longest periods of time I’d spent around physicians and other health care professionals really witnessing firsthand the science and the art of medicine.

During my time volunteering I saw one patient over the course of several weeks who was catatonic when I first met her, but by the end of several electroconvulsive therapy treatments she had a subtle smile on her face and we were able to have a conversation. She was a younger Black woman like myself and at that moment I knew that I wanted to become a physician and be involved in people’s lives in such a unique manner.

I worked for several years before applying to medical school. During that time two of my jobs involved doing home visits with children, young adults, and their families. I once again experienced the connection that one can make with someone and their family over a short period of time when you actively listen, understand what is important to them, and work together.

After several years of this work I got accepted into medical school and excitedly started the path to becoming a physician. While the learning curve was difficult, I genuinely enjoyed every block of medical school, including learning the anatomy, pathophysiology, and pharmacology. I could not wait to be in front of patients to use this newfound knowledge to help solve their health problems.
 

‘There is no such thing as a single issue-struggle’

As I started the third year of medical school and clinical rotations, I found joy in being in hospitals and clinics. I also came to recognize that understanding the pharmacology of why metformin helps improve the hemoglobin A1c in people with diabetes is not necessarily one of the keys to helping people optimize their health. I started to talk with patients and all sorts of questions would come to mind. Where did they grow up? What did they identify as their culture? What did they do in their day to day? Did they have a home and support at that home? Are they someone’s caretaker? What are their hopes for the future? And the list goes on.

I ultimately chose family medicine as a specialty because, as Audre Lorde said, “there is no such thing as a single-issue struggle because we do not live single-issue lives,” and family medicine allows one to look at the intersections of people’s lives and how they affect their health and well-being.

I currently practice as a family medicine physician in a setting in which I provide a lot of sexual and reproductive health care. I welcome patients of all ages and genders, and this care includes preconception counseling, contraceptive counseling, prenatal and postpartum care, STI testing and treatment, abortion care, and routine preventive care – just to name a few.

I decided to specialize in sexual and reproductive health care within family medicine because of the historic discrimination and inequitable treatment that is often experienced by young Black persons when they seek care for their sexual health and/or reproductive choices. In addition, there is often stigma within communities when it comes to talking about sex, bodies, and pleasure.

Recently, after a few minutes with a patient, she shared with me that she just completed nursing school and was studying for her exams. We talked about what type of jobs she was looking to apply for and where she wanted to work. I expressed to her that I was proud of the hard work she put in to complete nursing school and commiserated with her about the challenges in schooling and studying that it takes to start in the health care field. The conversation eventually found its way to talking about her sexual and reproductive health care. She shared with me that she was interested in having a child; however, at this time she put those plans on hold because she was scared about the racism within health care and the unacceptable high rates of maternal mortality among Black women in this country.

I listened and shared that as someone who also identifies as a Black woman, I have similar fears and anxieties surrounding my own reproductive health future. During the visit with this patient, I used my training in family medicine to better understand her physical and mental health needs and reassured her that I was going to partner with her through her health care journey.
 

Hope for the future of family medicine

As I work on a day-to-day basis I often think about my hopes for patients, as well as my hopes for medicine and the field of family medicine. My hope for the future of family medicine is that we can continue to make meaningful connections with patients to help them optimize their health and well-being.

I imagine a system in which we have the time and support to do this for all of our patients regardless of their immigration status, socioeconomic status, or any other historically excluded status. My hope for the future of family medicine is that I can write a prescription for a medication or physical therapy, and the patient is able to fill the prescription without having to worry about the financial implications of paying for it. My hope for the future of family medicine is that patients can seek out care without the fear of discrimination or racism through an increasingly diverse work force. My hope for the future of family medicine is that these improvements become a reality and that as physicians we can appreciate the connections we make with patients and the impact this has on their overall health and well-being.
 

Dr. Lockley is a family medicine physician currently living in Harlem, N.Y., and a member of the editorial advisory board of Family Practice News. She currently works for Public Health Solutions’ Sexual and Reproductive Health Centers in Brooklyn, providing primary care and reproductive health care services there, and as an abortion provider throughout the New York region. She completed both medical school and residency in Philadelphia and then did a fellowship in reproductive health care and advocacy through the Family Health Center of Harlem and the Reproductive Health Access Project. She can be reached at [email protected].

THE COMPARISON

A Seborrheic dermatitis in a woman with brown-gray greasy scale, as well as petaloid papules and plaques that are especially prominent in the nasolabial folds.

B Seborrheic dermatitis in a man with erythema, scale, and mild postinflammatory hypopigmentation that are especially prominent in the nasolabial folds.

C Seborrheic dermatitis in a man with erythema, faint scale, and postinflammatory hypopigmentation that are especially prominent in the nasolabial folds.

D Seborrheic dermatitis in a man with erythema and scale of the eyebrows and glabellar region.

Seborrheic dermatitis (SD) is an inflammatory condition that is thought to be part of a response to Malassezia yeast. The scalp and face are most commonly affected, particularly the nasolabial folds, eyebrows, ears, postauricular areas, and beard area. Men also may have SD on the mid upper chest in association with chest hair. In infants, the scalp and body skin folds often are affected.

Epidemiology

SD affects patients of all ages: infants, adolescents, and adults. It is among the most common dermatologic diagnoses reported in Black patients in the United States.¹

Key clinical features in darker skin tones

• In those with darker skin tones, arcuate, polycyclic, or petaloid (flower petallike) plaques may be present (FIGURE A). Also, hypopigmented patches and plaques may be prominent (FIGURES B AND C). The classic description includes thin pink patches and plaques with white greasy scale on the face (FIGURE D).
• The scalp may have diffuse scale or isolated scaly plaques.

Worth noting

• In those with tightly coiled hair, there is a predisposition for dry hair and increased risk for breakage.
• Treatment plans for patients with SD often include frequent hair washing. However, in those with tightly coiled hair, the treatment plan may need to be modified due to hair texture, tendency for dryness, and washing frequency preferences. Washing the scalp at least every 1 to 2 weeks may be a preferred approach for those with tightly coiled hair at increased risk for dryness/breakage vs washing daily.² In a sample of 201 caregivers of Black girls, Rucker Wright et al3 found that washing the hair more than once per week was not correlated with a lower prevalence of SD.
• If tightly coiled hair is temporarily straightened with heat (eg, blow-dryer, flat iron), adding a liquid-based treatment such as clobetasol solution or fluocinonide solution will cause the hair to revert to its normal curl pattern.
• It is appropriate to ask patients for their vehicle preference for medications.² For example, if clobetasol is the treatment selected for the patient, the vehicle can reflect patient preference for a liquid, foam, cream, or ointment.
• Some antifungal/antiyeast shampoos may cause further hair dryness and breakage.
• Treatment may be delayed because patients often use various topical pomades and ointments to cover up the scale and help with pruritus.
• Diffuse scale of tinea capitis in school- aged children can be mistaken for SD, which leads to delayed diagnosis and treatment.
• Clinicians should become comfortable with scalp examinations in patients with tightly coiled hair. Patients with chief concerns related to their hair and scalp expect their clinicians to touch these areas. Avoid leaning in to examine the patient without touching the patient’s hair and scalp.^2,4

Health disparity highlight

SD is among the most common cutaneous disorders diagnosed in patients with skin of color.^1,5 Delay in recognition of SD in those with darker skin tones leads to delayed treatment. SD of the face can cause notable postinflammatory pigmentation alteration. Pigmentation changes in the skin further impact quality of life.

THE COMPARISON

A Seborrheic dermatitis in a woman with brown-gray greasy scale, as well as petaloid papules and plaques that are especially prominent in the nasolabial folds.

B Seborrheic dermatitis in a man with erythema, scale, and mild postinflammatory hypopigmentation that are especially prominent in the nasolabial folds.

C Seborrheic dermatitis in a man with erythema, faint scale, and postinflammatory hypopigmentation that are especially prominent in the nasolabial folds.

D Seborrheic dermatitis in a man with erythema and scale of the eyebrows and glabellar region.

Seborrheic dermatitis (SD) is an inflammatory condition that is thought to be part of a response to Malassezia yeast. The scalp and face are most commonly affected, particularly the nasolabial folds, eyebrows, ears, postauricular areas, and beard area. Men also may have SD on the mid upper chest in association with chest hair. In infants, the scalp and body skin folds often are affected.

Epidemiology

SD affects patients of all ages: infants, adolescents, and adults. It is among the most common dermatologic diagnoses reported in Black patients in the United States.¹

Key clinical features in darker skin tones

• In those with darker skin tones, arcuate, polycyclic, or petaloid (flower petallike) plaques may be present (FIGURE A). Also, hypopigmented patches and plaques may be prominent (FIGURES B AND C). The classic description includes thin pink patches and plaques with white greasy scale on the face (FIGURE D).
• The scalp may have diffuse scale or isolated scaly plaques.

Worth noting

• In those with tightly coiled hair, there is a predisposition for dry hair and increased risk for breakage.
• Treatment plans for patients with SD often include frequent hair washing. However, in those with tightly coiled hair, the treatment plan may need to be modified due to hair texture, tendency for dryness, and washing frequency preferences. Washing the scalp at least every 1 to 2 weeks may be a preferred approach for those with tightly coiled hair at increased risk for dryness/breakage vs washing daily.² In a sample of 201 caregivers of Black girls, Rucker Wright et al3 found that washing the hair more than once per week was not correlated with a lower prevalence of SD.
• If tightly coiled hair is temporarily straightened with heat (eg, blow-dryer, flat iron), adding a liquid-based treatment such as clobetasol solution or fluocinonide solution will cause the hair to revert to its normal curl pattern.
• It is appropriate to ask patients for their vehicle preference for medications.² For example, if clobetasol is the treatment selected for the patient, the vehicle can reflect patient preference for a liquid, foam, cream, or ointment.
• Some antifungal/antiyeast shampoos may cause further hair dryness and breakage.
• Treatment may be delayed because patients often use various topical pomades and ointments to cover up the scale and help with pruritus.
• Diffuse scale of tinea capitis in school- aged children can be mistaken for SD, which leads to delayed diagnosis and treatment.
• Clinicians should become comfortable with scalp examinations in patients with tightly coiled hair. Patients with chief concerns related to their hair and scalp expect their clinicians to touch these areas. Avoid leaning in to examine the patient without touching the patient’s hair and scalp.^2,4

Health disparity highlight

SD is among the most common cutaneous disorders diagnosed in patients with skin of color.^1,5 Delay in recognition of SD in those with darker skin tones leads to delayed treatment. SD of the face can cause notable postinflammatory pigmentation alteration. Pigmentation changes in the skin further impact quality of life.

THE COMPARISON

A Seborrheic dermatitis in a woman with brown-gray greasy scale, as well as petaloid papules and plaques that are especially prominent in the nasolabial folds.

B Seborrheic dermatitis in a man with erythema, scale, and mild postinflammatory hypopigmentation that are especially prominent in the nasolabial folds.

C Seborrheic dermatitis in a man with erythema, faint scale, and postinflammatory hypopigmentation that are especially prominent in the nasolabial folds.

D Seborrheic dermatitis in a man with erythema and scale of the eyebrows and glabellar region.

Seborrheic dermatitis (SD) is an inflammatory condition that is thought to be part of a response to Malassezia yeast. The scalp and face are most commonly affected, particularly the nasolabial folds, eyebrows, ears, postauricular areas, and beard area. Men also may have SD on the mid upper chest in association with chest hair. In infants, the scalp and body skin folds often are affected.

Epidemiology

SD affects patients of all ages: infants, adolescents, and adults. It is among the most common dermatologic diagnoses reported in Black patients in the United States.¹

Key clinical features in darker skin tones

• In those with darker skin tones, arcuate, polycyclic, or petaloid (flower petallike) plaques may be present (FIGURE A). Also, hypopigmented patches and plaques may be prominent (FIGURES B AND C). The classic description includes thin pink patches and plaques with white greasy scale on the face (FIGURE D).
• The scalp may have diffuse scale or isolated scaly plaques.

Worth noting

• In those with tightly coiled hair, there is a predisposition for dry hair and increased risk for breakage.
• Treatment plans for patients with SD often include frequent hair washing. However, in those with tightly coiled hair, the treatment plan may need to be modified due to hair texture, tendency for dryness, and washing frequency preferences. Washing the scalp at least every 1 to 2 weeks may be a preferred approach for those with tightly coiled hair at increased risk for dryness/breakage vs washing daily.² In a sample of 201 caregivers of Black girls, Rucker Wright et al3 found that washing the hair more than once per week was not correlated with a lower prevalence of SD.
• If tightly coiled hair is temporarily straightened with heat (eg, blow-dryer, flat iron), adding a liquid-based treatment such as clobetasol solution or fluocinonide solution will cause the hair to revert to its normal curl pattern.
• It is appropriate to ask patients for their vehicle preference for medications.² For example, if clobetasol is the treatment selected for the patient, the vehicle can reflect patient preference for a liquid, foam, cream, or ointment.
• Some antifungal/antiyeast shampoos may cause further hair dryness and breakage.
• Treatment may be delayed because patients often use various topical pomades and ointments to cover up the scale and help with pruritus.
• Diffuse scale of tinea capitis in school- aged children can be mistaken for SD, which leads to delayed diagnosis and treatment.
• Clinicians should become comfortable with scalp examinations in patients with tightly coiled hair. Patients with chief concerns related to their hair and scalp expect their clinicians to touch these areas. Avoid leaning in to examine the patient without touching the patient’s hair and scalp.^2,4

Health disparity highlight

SD is among the most common cutaneous disorders diagnosed in patients with skin of color.^1,5 Delay in recognition of SD in those with darker skin tones leads to delayed treatment. SD of the face can cause notable postinflammatory pigmentation alteration. Pigmentation changes in the skin further impact quality of life.

On day 1 of her fellowship, Francesca C. Duncan, MD, was blindsided by her first patient.

The patient, a White man who was accompanied by his wife, sat in the exam room with his sunglasses on.

“I remember him saying, ‘I need to take off my sunglasses so you don’t look so Black,’” said Dr. Duncan, a pulmonologist and intensivist at Indiana University, Indianapolis, who has a specialty in lung cancer disparities.

The patient proceeded to grill her about her experience and training. He asked where she attended college and mocked her degree from a historically Black university. His wife sat there, silent.

Dr. Duncan was shocked by the fact that she still had to defend her credentials.

“I just kind of felt like at that point in my training, my title would have earned me more respect,” said Dr. Duncan, now an assistant professor after recently completing a 3-year fellowship in pulmonary and critical care medicine. “I thought at some point [the racism and discrimination] would stop, but after all that training, all that late-night studying, I still had to prove myself.”

Unfortunately, Dr. Duncan’s experience in fellowship is not unique.

A recent survey of hematology and oncology fellows revealed that medical trainees routinely encounter discrimination during their training.

The 17 fellows who were anonymously interviewed in the survey all recalled experiencing or witnessing discriminatory behaviors during their fellowship, mostly from patients. These encounters rarely come to light. Only one respondent officially reported an incident.

The findings, published online November 8 in JAMA Network Open, underscore the need for graduate medical education programs to improve learning environments and support for trainees, lead author Rahma M. Warsame, MD, and colleagues say .
 

Discrimination at work

Initially, Dr. Warsame and co–principal investigator Katharine Price, MD, were tasked with developing strategies to mitigate instances of racism and bias that fellows encountered during training, but both felt it was critical to understand the experiences of their trainees first.

Out of 34 fellows and recent graduates of the hematology and oncology fellowship program of the Mayo Clinic, Rochester, Minn., 20 consented to participate in the study. Of those, 17 were interviewed between July and November 2018. Among the 17 interviewees, six were Asian, two were Black, three were Hispanic, two were multiracial, and four were White.

Dr. Warsame and colleagues found that everyone reported experiencing or witnessing biased or discriminatory events. The majority of these offenses were committed by patients, not faculty or other employees. The researchers largely interpreted most of the incidents as microaggressions.

From the interviews, the researchers identified six central themes. Among them: foreign fellows and U.S.-born trainees being perceived or made to feel like outsiders; inappropriate comments being made toward female employees about their looks, credentials, or marital status; lack of action after reporting incidents or concerns that reporting such incidents would be futile; and strategies fellows used to cope after negative interactions.

One interviewee said, “I was fired by a patient because I have an accent.” Another said that when she is interviewing for jobs, she is always asked if she has children: “Maybe they’re asking in an innocuous manner, but I always feel like people worry. Is this person going to take maternity leave and be less available for work?”

For Dr. Warsame, “the idea that American citizens were frequently made to feel like they do not belong was surprising.”

Not surprising to Dr. Warsame, however, was the importance of fostering diversity and inclusion during fellowship years. Fellows often noted that greater diversity within the program helped create a more inclusive environment.

“[What’s] important to reinforce is the value of creating platforms for honest discussion and intentionally seeking fellows’ voices and perspectives, which in turn makes them feel like they belong,” Dr. Warsame said.

Still, the researchers found that fellows often did not report incidents of discrimination or bias. Only six trainees were aware of policies for reporting patient misconduct or discrimination, and only one ever reported an incident.
 

Where’s the support?

For Dr. Duncan, her encounter 3 years ago with the patient with sunglasses wasn’t her first experience of discrimination on the job — or her last.

Although hurtful in the moment, she had the wherewithal to report the incident to her attending physician, who was equally shocked. Initially unsure of how to handle it, the attending ultimately stepped up and provided “immense support,” Dr. Duncan said

The issue was brought to the attention of the program director, who took swift action. The patient was documented as “disruptive,” informed of that status in writing, and was banned from receiving treatment from trainees at the center, although Dr. Duncan noted he still received the medical care he needed.

Often, however, fellows who report incidents of discrimination and racism receive little support. According to Dr. Warsame and colleagues, most trainees don’t bother reporting these experiences because they believe that doing so would be futile.

“Concerns about reporting included jeopardizing future employability, risk of retaliation, and challenges reporting experiences that could be perceived as subjective and difficult to prove,” the authors write.

For instance, one interviewee said: “I’m afraid to report these things because there’s gonna be repercussions. There’s no way it’s gonna be anonymous.... I just have to toughen up and, you know, get used [to it].”

Dr. Warsame added, “A major challenge for trainees was that they often felt unheard, and at the time, there was no formal debrief regarding discrimination issues when they arose.”

These instances of bias have implications for trainee well-being. In a 2019 study, discrimination that physicians and students experienced during training had adverse effects on their emotional health. Responses from 50 trainees and physicians revealed a wide range of discriminatory experiences, including patients rejecting care and spewing racist, sexist, or homophobic epithets. Many physicians were uncertain about how to respond effectively and appropriately.

Since that study was published and after having completed her own fellowship, Dr. Duncan said she has seen some change for the better.

“There is a lot more awareness around this, and programs are trying to do better in recognizing and responding to incidents,” she said. She noted that it’s important to ensure that those who are directly affected by discriminatory behaviors aren’t left to do all of the “heavy lifting” of addressing and resolving the issues.

The weight of discriminatory incidents, from microaggressions to overt racism, is cumulative and can adversely affect a person’s career. “It’s exhausting -- we need support,” she said.

The Mayo Clinic is working to ensure that trainees receive support. “The study has prompted communication workshops and faculty development to better equip trainees with strategies to address [and report] patients who behave or display disrespectful or discriminatory behavior,” Dr. Warsame said.

She and her colleagues noted that the anonymous hotline used for the survey cultivated a safe environment for candid discussions and that such an approach is “feasible and effective to explore sensitive topics and scalable to various geographic locations and different medical specialties.”

“We recognize that our program must seek this feedback regularly and ensure we keep a finger on the pulse of our trainees,” Dr. Warsame added.

Dr. Warsame and Dr. Duncan have disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Duncan noted that her views and comments are her own and do not necessarily reflect those of her institution.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

On day 1 of her fellowship, Francesca C. Duncan, MD, was blindsided by her first patient.

The patient, a White man who was accompanied by his wife, sat in the exam room with his sunglasses on.

“I remember him saying, ‘I need to take off my sunglasses so you don’t look so Black,’” said Dr. Duncan, a pulmonologist and intensivist at Indiana University, Indianapolis, who has a specialty in lung cancer disparities.

The patient proceeded to grill her about her experience and training. He asked where she attended college and mocked her degree from a historically Black university. His wife sat there, silent.

Dr. Duncan was shocked by the fact that she still had to defend her credentials.

“I just kind of felt like at that point in my training, my title would have earned me more respect,” said Dr. Duncan, now an assistant professor after recently completing a 3-year fellowship in pulmonary and critical care medicine. “I thought at some point [the racism and discrimination] would stop, but after all that training, all that late-night studying, I still had to prove myself.”

Unfortunately, Dr. Duncan’s experience in fellowship is not unique.

A recent survey of hematology and oncology fellows revealed that medical trainees routinely encounter discrimination during their training.

The 17 fellows who were anonymously interviewed in the survey all recalled experiencing or witnessing discriminatory behaviors during their fellowship, mostly from patients. These encounters rarely come to light. Only one respondent officially reported an incident.

The findings, published online November 8 in JAMA Network Open, underscore the need for graduate medical education programs to improve learning environments and support for trainees, lead author Rahma M. Warsame, MD, and colleagues say .
 

Discrimination at work

Initially, Dr. Warsame and co–principal investigator Katharine Price, MD, were tasked with developing strategies to mitigate instances of racism and bias that fellows encountered during training, but both felt it was critical to understand the experiences of their trainees first.

Out of 34 fellows and recent graduates of the hematology and oncology fellowship program of the Mayo Clinic, Rochester, Minn., 20 consented to participate in the study. Of those, 17 were interviewed between July and November 2018. Among the 17 interviewees, six were Asian, two were Black, three were Hispanic, two were multiracial, and four were White.

Dr. Warsame and colleagues found that everyone reported experiencing or witnessing biased or discriminatory events. The majority of these offenses were committed by patients, not faculty or other employees. The researchers largely interpreted most of the incidents as microaggressions.

From the interviews, the researchers identified six central themes. Among them: foreign fellows and U.S.-born trainees being perceived or made to feel like outsiders; inappropriate comments being made toward female employees about their looks, credentials, or marital status; lack of action after reporting incidents or concerns that reporting such incidents would be futile; and strategies fellows used to cope after negative interactions.

One interviewee said, “I was fired by a patient because I have an accent.” Another said that when she is interviewing for jobs, she is always asked if she has children: “Maybe they’re asking in an innocuous manner, but I always feel like people worry. Is this person going to take maternity leave and be less available for work?”

For Dr. Warsame, “the idea that American citizens were frequently made to feel like they do not belong was surprising.”

Not surprising to Dr. Warsame, however, was the importance of fostering diversity and inclusion during fellowship years. Fellows often noted that greater diversity within the program helped create a more inclusive environment.

“[What’s] important to reinforce is the value of creating platforms for honest discussion and intentionally seeking fellows’ voices and perspectives, which in turn makes them feel like they belong,” Dr. Warsame said.

Still, the researchers found that fellows often did not report incidents of discrimination or bias. Only six trainees were aware of policies for reporting patient misconduct or discrimination, and only one ever reported an incident.
 

Where’s the support?

For Dr. Duncan, her encounter 3 years ago with the patient with sunglasses wasn’t her first experience of discrimination on the job — or her last.

Although hurtful in the moment, she had the wherewithal to report the incident to her attending physician, who was equally shocked. Initially unsure of how to handle it, the attending ultimately stepped up and provided “immense support,” Dr. Duncan said

The issue was brought to the attention of the program director, who took swift action. The patient was documented as “disruptive,” informed of that status in writing, and was banned from receiving treatment from trainees at the center, although Dr. Duncan noted he still received the medical care he needed.

Often, however, fellows who report incidents of discrimination and racism receive little support. According to Dr. Warsame and colleagues, most trainees don’t bother reporting these experiences because they believe that doing so would be futile.

“Concerns about reporting included jeopardizing future employability, risk of retaliation, and challenges reporting experiences that could be perceived as subjective and difficult to prove,” the authors write.

For instance, one interviewee said: “I’m afraid to report these things because there’s gonna be repercussions. There’s no way it’s gonna be anonymous.... I just have to toughen up and, you know, get used [to it].”

Dr. Warsame added, “A major challenge for trainees was that they often felt unheard, and at the time, there was no formal debrief regarding discrimination issues when they arose.”

These instances of bias have implications for trainee well-being. In a 2019 study, discrimination that physicians and students experienced during training had adverse effects on their emotional health. Responses from 50 trainees and physicians revealed a wide range of discriminatory experiences, including patients rejecting care and spewing racist, sexist, or homophobic epithets. Many physicians were uncertain about how to respond effectively and appropriately.

Since that study was published and after having completed her own fellowship, Dr. Duncan said she has seen some change for the better.

“There is a lot more awareness around this, and programs are trying to do better in recognizing and responding to incidents,” she said. She noted that it’s important to ensure that those who are directly affected by discriminatory behaviors aren’t left to do all of the “heavy lifting” of addressing and resolving the issues.

The weight of discriminatory incidents, from microaggressions to overt racism, is cumulative and can adversely affect a person’s career. “It’s exhausting -- we need support,” she said.

The Mayo Clinic is working to ensure that trainees receive support. “The study has prompted communication workshops and faculty development to better equip trainees with strategies to address [and report] patients who behave or display disrespectful or discriminatory behavior,” Dr. Warsame said.

She and her colleagues noted that the anonymous hotline used for the survey cultivated a safe environment for candid discussions and that such an approach is “feasible and effective to explore sensitive topics and scalable to various geographic locations and different medical specialties.”

“We recognize that our program must seek this feedback regularly and ensure we keep a finger on the pulse of our trainees,” Dr. Warsame added.

Dr. Warsame and Dr. Duncan have disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Duncan noted that her views and comments are her own and do not necessarily reflect those of her institution.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

On day 1 of her fellowship, Francesca C. Duncan, MD, was blindsided by her first patient.

The patient, a White man who was accompanied by his wife, sat in the exam room with his sunglasses on.

“I remember him saying, ‘I need to take off my sunglasses so you don’t look so Black,’” said Dr. Duncan, a pulmonologist and intensivist at Indiana University, Indianapolis, who has a specialty in lung cancer disparities.

The patient proceeded to grill her about her experience and training. He asked where she attended college and mocked her degree from a historically Black university. His wife sat there, silent.

Dr. Duncan was shocked by the fact that she still had to defend her credentials.

“I just kind of felt like at that point in my training, my title would have earned me more respect,” said Dr. Duncan, now an assistant professor after recently completing a 3-year fellowship in pulmonary and critical care medicine. “I thought at some point [the racism and discrimination] would stop, but after all that training, all that late-night studying, I still had to prove myself.”

Unfortunately, Dr. Duncan’s experience in fellowship is not unique.

A recent survey of hematology and oncology fellows revealed that medical trainees routinely encounter discrimination during their training.

The 17 fellows who were anonymously interviewed in the survey all recalled experiencing or witnessing discriminatory behaviors during their fellowship, mostly from patients. These encounters rarely come to light. Only one respondent officially reported an incident.

The findings, published online November 8 in JAMA Network Open, underscore the need for graduate medical education programs to improve learning environments and support for trainees, lead author Rahma M. Warsame, MD, and colleagues say .
 

Discrimination at work

Initially, Dr. Warsame and co–principal investigator Katharine Price, MD, were tasked with developing strategies to mitigate instances of racism and bias that fellows encountered during training, but both felt it was critical to understand the experiences of their trainees first.

Out of 34 fellows and recent graduates of the hematology and oncology fellowship program of the Mayo Clinic, Rochester, Minn., 20 consented to participate in the study. Of those, 17 were interviewed between July and November 2018. Among the 17 interviewees, six were Asian, two were Black, three were Hispanic, two were multiracial, and four were White.

Dr. Warsame and colleagues found that everyone reported experiencing or witnessing biased or discriminatory events. The majority of these offenses were committed by patients, not faculty or other employees. The researchers largely interpreted most of the incidents as microaggressions.

From the interviews, the researchers identified six central themes. Among them: foreign fellows and U.S.-born trainees being perceived or made to feel like outsiders; inappropriate comments being made toward female employees about their looks, credentials, or marital status; lack of action after reporting incidents or concerns that reporting such incidents would be futile; and strategies fellows used to cope after negative interactions.

One interviewee said, “I was fired by a patient because I have an accent.” Another said that when she is interviewing for jobs, she is always asked if she has children: “Maybe they’re asking in an innocuous manner, but I always feel like people worry. Is this person going to take maternity leave and be less available for work?”

For Dr. Warsame, “the idea that American citizens were frequently made to feel like they do not belong was surprising.”

Not surprising to Dr. Warsame, however, was the importance of fostering diversity and inclusion during fellowship years. Fellows often noted that greater diversity within the program helped create a more inclusive environment.

“[What’s] important to reinforce is the value of creating platforms for honest discussion and intentionally seeking fellows’ voices and perspectives, which in turn makes them feel like they belong,” Dr. Warsame said.

Still, the researchers found that fellows often did not report incidents of discrimination or bias. Only six trainees were aware of policies for reporting patient misconduct or discrimination, and only one ever reported an incident.
 

Where’s the support?

For Dr. Duncan, her encounter 3 years ago with the patient with sunglasses wasn’t her first experience of discrimination on the job — or her last.

Although hurtful in the moment, she had the wherewithal to report the incident to her attending physician, who was equally shocked. Initially unsure of how to handle it, the attending ultimately stepped up and provided “immense support,” Dr. Duncan said

The issue was brought to the attention of the program director, who took swift action. The patient was documented as “disruptive,” informed of that status in writing, and was banned from receiving treatment from trainees at the center, although Dr. Duncan noted he still received the medical care he needed.

Often, however, fellows who report incidents of discrimination and racism receive little support. According to Dr. Warsame and colleagues, most trainees don’t bother reporting these experiences because they believe that doing so would be futile.

“Concerns about reporting included jeopardizing future employability, risk of retaliation, and challenges reporting experiences that could be perceived as subjective and difficult to prove,” the authors write.

For instance, one interviewee said: “I’m afraid to report these things because there’s gonna be repercussions. There’s no way it’s gonna be anonymous.... I just have to toughen up and, you know, get used [to it].”

Dr. Warsame added, “A major challenge for trainees was that they often felt unheard, and at the time, there was no formal debrief regarding discrimination issues when they arose.”

These instances of bias have implications for trainee well-being. In a 2019 study, discrimination that physicians and students experienced during training had adverse effects on their emotional health. Responses from 50 trainees and physicians revealed a wide range of discriminatory experiences, including patients rejecting care and spewing racist, sexist, or homophobic epithets. Many physicians were uncertain about how to respond effectively and appropriately.

Since that study was published and after having completed her own fellowship, Dr. Duncan said she has seen some change for the better.

“There is a lot more awareness around this, and programs are trying to do better in recognizing and responding to incidents,” she said. She noted that it’s important to ensure that those who are directly affected by discriminatory behaviors aren’t left to do all of the “heavy lifting” of addressing and resolving the issues.

The weight of discriminatory incidents, from microaggressions to overt racism, is cumulative and can adversely affect a person’s career. “It’s exhausting -- we need support,” she said.

The Mayo Clinic is working to ensure that trainees receive support. “The study has prompted communication workshops and faculty development to better equip trainees with strategies to address [and report] patients who behave or display disrespectful or discriminatory behavior,” Dr. Warsame said.

She and her colleagues noted that the anonymous hotline used for the survey cultivated a safe environment for candid discussions and that such an approach is “feasible and effective to explore sensitive topics and scalable to various geographic locations and different medical specialties.”

“We recognize that our program must seek this feedback regularly and ensure we keep a finger on the pulse of our trainees,” Dr. Warsame added.

Dr. Warsame and Dr. Duncan have disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Duncan noted that her views and comments are her own and do not necessarily reflect those of her institution.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

COVID-19 has been difficult for parents trying to balance careers, home life, and keeping their loved ones safe. A new study indicates that, not only are physicians not immune to these stressors, but the long-term effects could be devastating for health care overall.

Juanmonino/Getty Images

In a study published Nov. 11, 2021, in JAMA Network Open , researchers found that stresses to work/life balance and family life caused by the pandemic have differed among men and women physicians. Women physicians have borne more of the burden, and the consequences could reach far beyond home.

Physicians and other health care workers have been at the front lines of the COVID-19 pandemic, and their work lives have been the focus of a lot of attention in the media and by researchers. Their family lives, not so much. But physicians have families, and the pandemic has upended almost everything about their lives, particularly where work life and home life intersect. School and day care closures, working from home, working extra hours, or working less – all of these changes have consequences on family life and the mental health of parents who are also physicians.

Findings from a Medscape survey published in early 2021 indicate that more female physicians than male physicians were either “conflicted” or “very conflicted” as parents because of work demands (42% vs. 23%) nearly 6 months into the pandemic.

In the current study, researchers from the University of Michigan, Harvard University, and the Medical University of South Carolina teamed up to investigate gender differences in how work/family factors affected the mental health of early-career physician parents in the United States during the first year of the COVID-19 pandemic. The results suggest that the pandemic has increased gender disparity and added disproportionately to the burden of female physicians.
 

Managing the household falls mostly on moms

Participants were physicians enrolled in the Intern Health Study, a longitudinal study that regularly surveys medical interns in the United States to assess stress and mood. When researchers compared survey results from before the onset of the pandemic (2018) with later results (2020), they found a striking gender difference in how the pandemic has changed family and work duties for physicians.

The authors of the study pointed out that previous research had found that female physicians take on a greater share of household and childcare duties than male physicians. The current study found that their share had increased with the pandemic. Physician moms are now 30 times more likely to be in charge of these tasks than physician dads.

In families in which both parents were physicians, none of the men said they took the primary role in managing the extra demands caused by the pandemic. In addition, women were twice as likely as men to work primarily from home and to work reduced hours.

The extra stress seems to be taking a toll on women physicians. In the 2020 survey, physician mothers had higher scores for anxiety and depression symptoms, compared with men. Notably, the 2018 survey did not show a significant difference in depression scores between men and women. Nor were there significant differences in depression and anxiety scores between women and men who were not parents or in reports of work/family conflict before and after the pandemic.

In general, the results indicate that the pandemic has only widened the gender gap between women and men physicians when it comes to managing family life and dealing with the stresses of maintaining a suitable work-life balance.
 

‘Long-term repercussions’ for gender equity in medicine

Although these are serious problems for women physicians and their families, the effects go beyond the home and beyond individuals. Even before the pandemic, women in medicine struggled for parity in career advancement and opportunities as well as in pay, and this new setback could make those challenges even greater.

“Even short-term adjustments can have serious long-term repercussions as they may lead to lower earnings and negatively impact opportunities for promotion, further exacerbating gender inequalities in compensation and advancement,” the study’s authors wrote.

The potential damage extends to the entire profession and the health care system itself. The profession is already struggling to retain young female physicians, and this situation is likely to make that problem worse and have long-term consequences. Citing data showing that female physicians spend more time with patients and that their patients may have better outcomes, the authors wrote that the consequences of losing more early-career female physicians “could be devastating to the U.S. health care system, particularly in the context of a global pandemic and an impending physician shortage.”

The sample size was small (276 U.S. physicians), and the study relied on self-reported data. The findings suggest that more research on this topic is needed, especially research that includes other demographic factors, such as sexual orientation and ethnicity. The authors recommend that institutional and public policymakers take into account the effects of the pandemic on physician mothers to ensure that recent gains in gender equity for women physicians do not fall victim to COVID-19.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

COVID-19 has been difficult for parents trying to balance careers, home life, and keeping their loved ones safe. A new study indicates that, not only are physicians not immune to these stressors, but the long-term effects could be devastating for health care overall.

Juanmonino/Getty Images

In a study published Nov. 11, 2021, in JAMA Network Open , researchers found that stresses to work/life balance and family life caused by the pandemic have differed among men and women physicians. Women physicians have borne more of the burden, and the consequences could reach far beyond home.

Physicians and other health care workers have been at the front lines of the COVID-19 pandemic, and their work lives have been the focus of a lot of attention in the media and by researchers. Their family lives, not so much. But physicians have families, and the pandemic has upended almost everything about their lives, particularly where work life and home life intersect. School and day care closures, working from home, working extra hours, or working less – all of these changes have consequences on family life and the mental health of parents who are also physicians.

Findings from a Medscape survey published in early 2021 indicate that more female physicians than male physicians were either “conflicted” or “very conflicted” as parents because of work demands (42% vs. 23%) nearly 6 months into the pandemic.

In the current study, researchers from the University of Michigan, Harvard University, and the Medical University of South Carolina teamed up to investigate gender differences in how work/family factors affected the mental health of early-career physician parents in the United States during the first year of the COVID-19 pandemic. The results suggest that the pandemic has increased gender disparity and added disproportionately to the burden of female physicians.
 

Managing the household falls mostly on moms

Participants were physicians enrolled in the Intern Health Study, a longitudinal study that regularly surveys medical interns in the United States to assess stress and mood. When researchers compared survey results from before the onset of the pandemic (2018) with later results (2020), they found a striking gender difference in how the pandemic has changed family and work duties for physicians.

The authors of the study pointed out that previous research had found that female physicians take on a greater share of household and childcare duties than male physicians. The current study found that their share had increased with the pandemic. Physician moms are now 30 times more likely to be in charge of these tasks than physician dads.

In families in which both parents were physicians, none of the men said they took the primary role in managing the extra demands caused by the pandemic. In addition, women were twice as likely as men to work primarily from home and to work reduced hours.

The extra stress seems to be taking a toll on women physicians. In the 2020 survey, physician mothers had higher scores for anxiety and depression symptoms, compared with men. Notably, the 2018 survey did not show a significant difference in depression scores between men and women. Nor were there significant differences in depression and anxiety scores between women and men who were not parents or in reports of work/family conflict before and after the pandemic.

In general, the results indicate that the pandemic has only widened the gender gap between women and men physicians when it comes to managing family life and dealing with the stresses of maintaining a suitable work-life balance.
 

‘Long-term repercussions’ for gender equity in medicine

Although these are serious problems for women physicians and their families, the effects go beyond the home and beyond individuals. Even before the pandemic, women in medicine struggled for parity in career advancement and opportunities as well as in pay, and this new setback could make those challenges even greater.

“Even short-term adjustments can have serious long-term repercussions as they may lead to lower earnings and negatively impact opportunities for promotion, further exacerbating gender inequalities in compensation and advancement,” the study’s authors wrote.

The potential damage extends to the entire profession and the health care system itself. The profession is already struggling to retain young female physicians, and this situation is likely to make that problem worse and have long-term consequences. Citing data showing that female physicians spend more time with patients and that their patients may have better outcomes, the authors wrote that the consequences of losing more early-career female physicians “could be devastating to the U.S. health care system, particularly in the context of a global pandemic and an impending physician shortage.”

The sample size was small (276 U.S. physicians), and the study relied on self-reported data. The findings suggest that more research on this topic is needed, especially research that includes other demographic factors, such as sexual orientation and ethnicity. The authors recommend that institutional and public policymakers take into account the effects of the pandemic on physician mothers to ensure that recent gains in gender equity for women physicians do not fall victim to COVID-19.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

COVID-19 has been difficult for parents trying to balance careers, home life, and keeping their loved ones safe. A new study indicates that, not only are physicians not immune to these stressors, but the long-term effects could be devastating for health care overall.

Juanmonino/Getty Images

In a study published Nov. 11, 2021, in JAMA Network Open , researchers found that stresses to work/life balance and family life caused by the pandemic have differed among men and women physicians. Women physicians have borne more of the burden, and the consequences could reach far beyond home.

Physicians and other health care workers have been at the front lines of the COVID-19 pandemic, and their work lives have been the focus of a lot of attention in the media and by researchers. Their family lives, not so much. But physicians have families, and the pandemic has upended almost everything about their lives, particularly where work life and home life intersect. School and day care closures, working from home, working extra hours, or working less – all of these changes have consequences on family life and the mental health of parents who are also physicians.

Findings from a Medscape survey published in early 2021 indicate that more female physicians than male physicians were either “conflicted” or “very conflicted” as parents because of work demands (42% vs. 23%) nearly 6 months into the pandemic.

In the current study, researchers from the University of Michigan, Harvard University, and the Medical University of South Carolina teamed up to investigate gender differences in how work/family factors affected the mental health of early-career physician parents in the United States during the first year of the COVID-19 pandemic. The results suggest that the pandemic has increased gender disparity and added disproportionately to the burden of female physicians.
 

Managing the household falls mostly on moms

Participants were physicians enrolled in the Intern Health Study, a longitudinal study that regularly surveys medical interns in the United States to assess stress and mood. When researchers compared survey results from before the onset of the pandemic (2018) with later results (2020), they found a striking gender difference in how the pandemic has changed family and work duties for physicians.

The authors of the study pointed out that previous research had found that female physicians take on a greater share of household and childcare duties than male physicians. The current study found that their share had increased with the pandemic. Physician moms are now 30 times more likely to be in charge of these tasks than physician dads.

In families in which both parents were physicians, none of the men said they took the primary role in managing the extra demands caused by the pandemic. In addition, women were twice as likely as men to work primarily from home and to work reduced hours.

The extra stress seems to be taking a toll on women physicians. In the 2020 survey, physician mothers had higher scores for anxiety and depression symptoms, compared with men. Notably, the 2018 survey did not show a significant difference in depression scores between men and women. Nor were there significant differences in depression and anxiety scores between women and men who were not parents or in reports of work/family conflict before and after the pandemic.

In general, the results indicate that the pandemic has only widened the gender gap between women and men physicians when it comes to managing family life and dealing with the stresses of maintaining a suitable work-life balance.
 

‘Long-term repercussions’ for gender equity in medicine

Although these are serious problems for women physicians and their families, the effects go beyond the home and beyond individuals. Even before the pandemic, women in medicine struggled for parity in career advancement and opportunities as well as in pay, and this new setback could make those challenges even greater.

“Even short-term adjustments can have serious long-term repercussions as they may lead to lower earnings and negatively impact opportunities for promotion, further exacerbating gender inequalities in compensation and advancement,” the study’s authors wrote.

The potential damage extends to the entire profession and the health care system itself. The profession is already struggling to retain young female physicians, and this situation is likely to make that problem worse and have long-term consequences. Citing data showing that female physicians spend more time with patients and that their patients may have better outcomes, the authors wrote that the consequences of losing more early-career female physicians “could be devastating to the U.S. health care system, particularly in the context of a global pandemic and an impending physician shortage.”

The sample size was small (276 U.S. physicians), and the study relied on self-reported data. The findings suggest that more research on this topic is needed, especially research that includes other demographic factors, such as sexual orientation and ethnicity. The authors recommend that institutional and public policymakers take into account the effects of the pandemic on physician mothers to ensure that recent gains in gender equity for women physicians do not fall victim to COVID-19.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

“If you want to be trusted, be trustworthy” – Stephen Covey

A few years ago, while working in my office, a female colleague stopped by for a casual chat. During the course of the conversation, she noticed that I did not have any diplomas or certificates hanging on my office walls. Instead, there were clusters of pictures drawn by my children, family photos, and a white board with my “to-do” list. The only wall art was a print of Banksy’s “The Thinker Monkey,” which depicts a monkey with its fist to its chin similar to Rodin’s famous sculpture, “Le Penseur.”

When asked why I didn’t hang any diplomas or awards, I replied that I preferred to keep my office atmosphere light and fun, and to focus on future goals rather than past accomplishments. I could see her jaw tense. Her frustration appeared deep, but it was for reasons beyond just my self-righteous tone. She said, “You know, I appreciate your focus on future goals, but it’s a pretty privileged position to not have to worry about sharing your accomplishments publicly.”

What followed was a discussion that was generative, enlightening, uncomfortable, and necessary. I had never considered what I chose to hang (or not hang) on my office walls as a privilege, and that was exactly the point. She described numerous episodes when her accomplishments were overlooked or (worse) attributed to a male colleague because she was a woman. I began to understand that graceful self-promotion is not optional for many women in medicine, it is a necessary skill.

This is just one example of how my privilege as a male in medicine contributed to my ignorance of the gender inequities that my female coworkers have faced throughout their careers. My colleague showed a lot of grace by taking the time to help me navigate my male privilege in a constructive manner. I decided to learn more about gender inequities, and eventually determined that I was woefully inadequate as a male ally, not by refusal but by ignorance. I wanted to start earning my colleague’s trust that I would be an ally that she could count on.
 

Trustworthiness

I wanted to be a trustworthy ally, but what does that entail? Perhaps we can learn from medical education. Trust is a complex construct that is increasingly used as a framework for assessing medical students and residents, such as with entrustable professional activities (EPAs).^1,2 Multiple studies have examined the characteristics that make a learner “trustworthy” when determining how much supervision is required.^3-8 Ten Cate and Chen performed an interpretivist, narrative review to synthesize the medical education literature on learner trustworthiness in the past 15 years,⁹ developing five major themes that contribute to trustworthiness: Humility, Capability, Agency, Reliability, and Integrity. Let’s examine each of these through the lens of male allyship.

Humility

Humility involves knowing one’s limits, asking for help, and being receptive to feedback.⁹ The first thing men need to do is to put their egos in check and recognize that women do not need rescuing; they need partnership. Systemic inequities have led to men holding the majority of leadership positions and significant sociopolitical capital, and correcting these inequities is more feasible when those in leadership and positions of power contribute. Women don’t need knights in shining armor, they need collaborative activism.

Humility also means a willingness to admit fallibility and to ask for help. Men often don’t know what they don’t know (see my foibles in the opening). As David G. Smith, PhD, and W. Brad Johnson, PhD, write in their book, “Good Guys,” “There are no perfect allies. As you work to become a better ally for the women around you, you will undoubtedly make a mistake.”¹⁰ Men must accept feedback on their shortcomings as allies without feeling as though they are losing their sociopolitical standing. Allyship for women does not mean there is a devaluing of men. We must escape a “zero-sum” mindset. Mistakes are where growth happens, but only if we approach our missteps with humility.
 

Capability

Capability entails having the necessary knowledge, skills, and attitudes to be a strong ally. Allyship is not intuitive for most men for several reasons. Many men do not experience the same biases or systemic inequities that women do, and therefore perceive them less frequently. I want to acknowledge that men can be victims of other systemic biases such as those against one’s race, ethnicity, gender identity, sexual orientation, religion, or any number of factors. Men who face inequities for these other reasons may be more cognizant of the biases women face. Even so, allyship is a skill that few men have been explicitly taught. Even if taught, few standard or organized mechanisms for feedback on allyship capability exist. How, then, can men become capable allies?

Just like in medical education, men must become self-directed learners who seek to build capability and receive feedback on their performance as allies. Men should seek allyship training through local women-in-medicine programs or organizations, or through the increasing number of national education options such as the recent ADVANCE PHM Gender Equity Symposium. As with learning any skill, men should go to the literature, seeking knowledge from experts in the field. I recommend starting with “Good Guys: How Men Can Be Better Allies for Women in the Workplace¹⁰ or “Athena Rising: How and Why Men Should Mentor Women.”¹¹ Both books, by Dr. Smith and Dr. Johnson, are great entry points into the gender allyship literature. Seek out other resources from local experts on gender equity and allyship. Both aforementioned books were recommended to me by a friend and gender equity expert; without her guidance I would not have known where to start.
 

Agency

Agency involves being proactive and engaged rather than passive or apathetic. Men must be enthusiastic allies who seek out opportunities to mentor and sponsor women rather than waiting for others to ask. Agency requires being curious and passionate about improving. Most men in medicine are not openly and explicitly misogynistic or sexist, but many are only passive when it comes to gender equity and allyship. Trustworthy allyship entails turning passive support into active change. Not sure how to start? A good first step is to ask female colleagues questions such as, “What can I do to be a better ally for you in the workplace?” or “What are some things at work that are most challenging to you, but I might not notice because I’m a man?” Curiosity is the springboard toward agency.

Reliability

Reliability means being conscientious, accountable, and doing what we say we will do. Nothing undermines trustworthiness faster than making a commitment and not following through. Allyship cannot be a show or an attempt to get public plaudits. It is a longitudinal commitment to supporting women through individual mentorship and sponsorship, and to work toward institutional and systems change.

Reliability also means taking an equitable approach to what Dr. Smith and Dr. Johnson call “office housework.” They define this as “administrative work that is necessary but undervalued, unlikely to lead to promotion, and disproportionately assigned to women.”¹⁰ In medicine, these tasks include organizing meetings, taking notes, planning social events, and remembering to celebrate colleagues’ achievements and milestones. Men should take on more of these tasks and advocate for change when the distribution of office housework in their workplace is inequitably directed toward women.
 

Integrity

Integrity involves honesty, professionalism, and benevolence. It is about making the morally correct choice even if there is potential risk. When men see gender inequity, they have an obligation to speak up. Whether it is overtly misogynistic behavior, subtle sexism, use of gendered language, inequitable distribution of office housework, lack of inclusivity and recognition for women, or another form of inequity, men must act with integrity and make it clear that they are partnering with women for change. Integrity means being an ally even when women are not present, and advocating that women be “at the table” for important conversations.

Beyond the individual

Allyship cannot end with individual actions; systems changes that build trustworthy institutions are necessary. Organizational leaders must approach gender conversations with humility to critically examine inequities and agency to implement meaningful changes. Workplace cultures and institutional policies should be reviewed with an eye toward system-level integrity and reliability for promoting and supporting women. Ongoing faculty and staff development programs must provide men with the knowledge, skills, and attitudes (capability) to be strong allies. We have a long history of male-dominated institutions that are unfair or (worse) unsafe for women. Many systems are designed in a way that disadvantages women. These systems must be redesigned through an equity lens to start building trust with women in medicine.

Becoming trustworthy is a process

Even the best male allies have room to improve their trustworthiness. Many men (myself included) have a LOT of room to improve, but they should not get discouraged by the amount of ground to be gained. Steady, deliberate improvement in men’s humility, capability, agency, reliability, and integrity can build the foundation of trust with female colleagues. Trust takes time. It takes effort. It takes vulnerability. It is an ongoing, developmental process that requires deliberate practice, frequent reflection, and feedback from our female colleagues.

Dr. Kinnear is associate professor of internal medicine and pediatrics in the Division of Hospital Medicine at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital Medical Center and University of Cincinnati Medical Center. He is associate program director for the Med-Peds and Internal Medicine residency programs.

References

1. Ten Cate O. Nuts and bolts of entrustable professional activities. J Grad Med Educ. 2013 Mar;5(1):157-8. doi: 10.4300/JGME-D-12-00380.1.

2. Ten Cate O. Entrustment decisions: Bringing the patient into the assessment equation. Acad Med. 2017 Jun;92(6):736-8. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000001623.

3. Kennedy TJT et al. Point-of-care assessment of medical trainee competence for independent clinical work. Acad Med. 2008 Oct;83(10 Suppl):S89-92. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0b013e318183c8b7.

4. Choo KJ et al. How do supervising physicians decide to entrust residents with unsupervised tasks? A qualitative analysis. J Hosp Med. 2014 Mar;9(3):169-75. doi: 10.1002/jhm.2150.

5. Hauer KE et al. How clinical supervisors develop trust in their trainees: A qualitative study. Med Educ. 2015 Aug;49(8):783-95. doi: 10.1111/medu.12745.

6. Sterkenburg A et al. When do supervising physicians decide to entrust residents with unsupervised tasks? Acad Med. 2010 Sep;85(9):1408-17. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0b013e3181eab0ec.

7. Sheu L et al. How supervisor experience influences trust, supervision, and trainee learning: A qualitative study. Acad Med. 2017 Sep;92(9):1320-7. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000001560.

8. Pingree EW et al. Encouraging entrustment: A qualitative study of resident behaviors that promote entrustment. Acad Med. 2020 Nov;95(11):1718-25. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000003487.

9. Ten Cate O, Chen HC. The ingredients of a rich entrustment decision. Med Teach. 2020 Dec;42(12):1413-20. doi: 10.1080/0142159X.2020.1817348.

10. Smith DG, Johnson WB. Good guys: How men can be better allies for women in the workplace: Harvard Business School Publishing Corporation 2020.

11. Johnson WB, Smith D. Athena rising: How and why men should mentor women: Routledge 2016.

“If you want to be trusted, be trustworthy” – Stephen Covey

A few years ago, while working in my office, a female colleague stopped by for a casual chat. During the course of the conversation, she noticed that I did not have any diplomas or certificates hanging on my office walls. Instead, there were clusters of pictures drawn by my children, family photos, and a white board with my “to-do” list. The only wall art was a print of Banksy’s “The Thinker Monkey,” which depicts a monkey with its fist to its chin similar to Rodin’s famous sculpture, “Le Penseur.”

When asked why I didn’t hang any diplomas or awards, I replied that I preferred to keep my office atmosphere light and fun, and to focus on future goals rather than past accomplishments. I could see her jaw tense. Her frustration appeared deep, but it was for reasons beyond just my self-righteous tone. She said, “You know, I appreciate your focus on future goals, but it’s a pretty privileged position to not have to worry about sharing your accomplishments publicly.”

What followed was a discussion that was generative, enlightening, uncomfortable, and necessary. I had never considered what I chose to hang (or not hang) on my office walls as a privilege, and that was exactly the point. She described numerous episodes when her accomplishments were overlooked or (worse) attributed to a male colleague because she was a woman. I began to understand that graceful self-promotion is not optional for many women in medicine, it is a necessary skill.

This is just one example of how my privilege as a male in medicine contributed to my ignorance of the gender inequities that my female coworkers have faced throughout their careers. My colleague showed a lot of grace by taking the time to help me navigate my male privilege in a constructive manner. I decided to learn more about gender inequities, and eventually determined that I was woefully inadequate as a male ally, not by refusal but by ignorance. I wanted to start earning my colleague’s trust that I would be an ally that she could count on.
 

Trustworthiness

I wanted to be a trustworthy ally, but what does that entail? Perhaps we can learn from medical education. Trust is a complex construct that is increasingly used as a framework for assessing medical students and residents, such as with entrustable professional activities (EPAs).^1,2 Multiple studies have examined the characteristics that make a learner “trustworthy” when determining how much supervision is required.^3-8 Ten Cate and Chen performed an interpretivist, narrative review to synthesize the medical education literature on learner trustworthiness in the past 15 years,⁹ developing five major themes that contribute to trustworthiness: Humility, Capability, Agency, Reliability, and Integrity. Let’s examine each of these through the lens of male allyship.

Humility

Humility involves knowing one’s limits, asking for help, and being receptive to feedback.⁹ The first thing men need to do is to put their egos in check and recognize that women do not need rescuing; they need partnership. Systemic inequities have led to men holding the majority of leadership positions and significant sociopolitical capital, and correcting these inequities is more feasible when those in leadership and positions of power contribute. Women don’t need knights in shining armor, they need collaborative activism.

Humility also means a willingness to admit fallibility and to ask for help. Men often don’t know what they don’t know (see my foibles in the opening). As David G. Smith, PhD, and W. Brad Johnson, PhD, write in their book, “Good Guys,” “There are no perfect allies. As you work to become a better ally for the women around you, you will undoubtedly make a mistake.”¹⁰ Men must accept feedback on their shortcomings as allies without feeling as though they are losing their sociopolitical standing. Allyship for women does not mean there is a devaluing of men. We must escape a “zero-sum” mindset. Mistakes are where growth happens, but only if we approach our missteps with humility.
 

Capability

Capability entails having the necessary knowledge, skills, and attitudes to be a strong ally. Allyship is not intuitive for most men for several reasons. Many men do not experience the same biases or systemic inequities that women do, and therefore perceive them less frequently. I want to acknowledge that men can be victims of other systemic biases such as those against one’s race, ethnicity, gender identity, sexual orientation, religion, or any number of factors. Men who face inequities for these other reasons may be more cognizant of the biases women face. Even so, allyship is a skill that few men have been explicitly taught. Even if taught, few standard or organized mechanisms for feedback on allyship capability exist. How, then, can men become capable allies?

Just like in medical education, men must become self-directed learners who seek to build capability and receive feedback on their performance as allies. Men should seek allyship training through local women-in-medicine programs or organizations, or through the increasing number of national education options such as the recent ADVANCE PHM Gender Equity Symposium. As with learning any skill, men should go to the literature, seeking knowledge from experts in the field. I recommend starting with “Good Guys: How Men Can Be Better Allies for Women in the Workplace¹⁰ or “Athena Rising: How and Why Men Should Mentor Women.”¹¹ Both books, by Dr. Smith and Dr. Johnson, are great entry points into the gender allyship literature. Seek out other resources from local experts on gender equity and allyship. Both aforementioned books were recommended to me by a friend and gender equity expert; without her guidance I would not have known where to start.
 

Agency

Agency involves being proactive and engaged rather than passive or apathetic. Men must be enthusiastic allies who seek out opportunities to mentor and sponsor women rather than waiting for others to ask. Agency requires being curious and passionate about improving. Most men in medicine are not openly and explicitly misogynistic or sexist, but many are only passive when it comes to gender equity and allyship. Trustworthy allyship entails turning passive support into active change. Not sure how to start? A good first step is to ask female colleagues questions such as, “What can I do to be a better ally for you in the workplace?” or “What are some things at work that are most challenging to you, but I might not notice because I’m a man?” Curiosity is the springboard toward agency.

Reliability

Reliability means being conscientious, accountable, and doing what we say we will do. Nothing undermines trustworthiness faster than making a commitment and not following through. Allyship cannot be a show or an attempt to get public plaudits. It is a longitudinal commitment to supporting women through individual mentorship and sponsorship, and to work toward institutional and systems change.

Reliability also means taking an equitable approach to what Dr. Smith and Dr. Johnson call “office housework.” They define this as “administrative work that is necessary but undervalued, unlikely to lead to promotion, and disproportionately assigned to women.”¹⁰ In medicine, these tasks include organizing meetings, taking notes, planning social events, and remembering to celebrate colleagues’ achievements and milestones. Men should take on more of these tasks and advocate for change when the distribution of office housework in their workplace is inequitably directed toward women.
 

Integrity

Integrity involves honesty, professionalism, and benevolence. It is about making the morally correct choice even if there is potential risk. When men see gender inequity, they have an obligation to speak up. Whether it is overtly misogynistic behavior, subtle sexism, use of gendered language, inequitable distribution of office housework, lack of inclusivity and recognition for women, or another form of inequity, men must act with integrity and make it clear that they are partnering with women for change. Integrity means being an ally even when women are not present, and advocating that women be “at the table” for important conversations.

Beyond the individual

Allyship cannot end with individual actions; systems changes that build trustworthy institutions are necessary. Organizational leaders must approach gender conversations with humility to critically examine inequities and agency to implement meaningful changes. Workplace cultures and institutional policies should be reviewed with an eye toward system-level integrity and reliability for promoting and supporting women. Ongoing faculty and staff development programs must provide men with the knowledge, skills, and attitudes (capability) to be strong allies. We have a long history of male-dominated institutions that are unfair or (worse) unsafe for women. Many systems are designed in a way that disadvantages women. These systems must be redesigned through an equity lens to start building trust with women in medicine.

Becoming trustworthy is a process

Even the best male allies have room to improve their trustworthiness. Many men (myself included) have a LOT of room to improve, but they should not get discouraged by the amount of ground to be gained. Steady, deliberate improvement in men’s humility, capability, agency, reliability, and integrity can build the foundation of trust with female colleagues. Trust takes time. It takes effort. It takes vulnerability. It is an ongoing, developmental process that requires deliberate practice, frequent reflection, and feedback from our female colleagues.

Dr. Kinnear is associate professor of internal medicine and pediatrics in the Division of Hospital Medicine at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital Medical Center and University of Cincinnati Medical Center. He is associate program director for the Med-Peds and Internal Medicine residency programs.

References

1. Ten Cate O. Nuts and bolts of entrustable professional activities. J Grad Med Educ. 2013 Mar;5(1):157-8. doi: 10.4300/JGME-D-12-00380.1.

2. Ten Cate O. Entrustment decisions: Bringing the patient into the assessment equation. Acad Med. 2017 Jun;92(6):736-8. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000001623.

3. Kennedy TJT et al. Point-of-care assessment of medical trainee competence for independent clinical work. Acad Med. 2008 Oct;83(10 Suppl):S89-92. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0b013e318183c8b7.

4. Choo KJ et al. How do supervising physicians decide to entrust residents with unsupervised tasks? A qualitative analysis. J Hosp Med. 2014 Mar;9(3):169-75. doi: 10.1002/jhm.2150.

5. Hauer KE et al. How clinical supervisors develop trust in their trainees: A qualitative study. Med Educ. 2015 Aug;49(8):783-95. doi: 10.1111/medu.12745.

6. Sterkenburg A et al. When do supervising physicians decide to entrust residents with unsupervised tasks? Acad Med. 2010 Sep;85(9):1408-17. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0b013e3181eab0ec.

7. Sheu L et al. How supervisor experience influences trust, supervision, and trainee learning: A qualitative study. Acad Med. 2017 Sep;92(9):1320-7. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000001560.

8. Pingree EW et al. Encouraging entrustment: A qualitative study of resident behaviors that promote entrustment. Acad Med. 2020 Nov;95(11):1718-25. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000003487.

9. Ten Cate O, Chen HC. The ingredients of a rich entrustment decision. Med Teach. 2020 Dec;42(12):1413-20. doi: 10.1080/0142159X.2020.1817348.

10. Smith DG, Johnson WB. Good guys: How men can be better allies for women in the workplace: Harvard Business School Publishing Corporation 2020.

11. Johnson WB, Smith D. Athena rising: How and why men should mentor women: Routledge 2016.

“If you want to be trusted, be trustworthy” – Stephen Covey

A few years ago, while working in my office, a female colleague stopped by for a casual chat. During the course of the conversation, she noticed that I did not have any diplomas or certificates hanging on my office walls. Instead, there were clusters of pictures drawn by my children, family photos, and a white board with my “to-do” list. The only wall art was a print of Banksy’s “The Thinker Monkey,” which depicts a monkey with its fist to its chin similar to Rodin’s famous sculpture, “Le Penseur.”

When asked why I didn’t hang any diplomas or awards, I replied that I preferred to keep my office atmosphere light and fun, and to focus on future goals rather than past accomplishments. I could see her jaw tense. Her frustration appeared deep, but it was for reasons beyond just my self-righteous tone. She said, “You know, I appreciate your focus on future goals, but it’s a pretty privileged position to not have to worry about sharing your accomplishments publicly.”

What followed was a discussion that was generative, enlightening, uncomfortable, and necessary. I had never considered what I chose to hang (or not hang) on my office walls as a privilege, and that was exactly the point. She described numerous episodes when her accomplishments were overlooked or (worse) attributed to a male colleague because she was a woman. I began to understand that graceful self-promotion is not optional for many women in medicine, it is a necessary skill.

This is just one example of how my privilege as a male in medicine contributed to my ignorance of the gender inequities that my female coworkers have faced throughout their careers. My colleague showed a lot of grace by taking the time to help me navigate my male privilege in a constructive manner. I decided to learn more about gender inequities, and eventually determined that I was woefully inadequate as a male ally, not by refusal but by ignorance. I wanted to start earning my colleague’s trust that I would be an ally that she could count on.
 

Trustworthiness

I wanted to be a trustworthy ally, but what does that entail? Perhaps we can learn from medical education. Trust is a complex construct that is increasingly used as a framework for assessing medical students and residents, such as with entrustable professional activities (EPAs).^1,2 Multiple studies have examined the characteristics that make a learner “trustworthy” when determining how much supervision is required.^3-8 Ten Cate and Chen performed an interpretivist, narrative review to synthesize the medical education literature on learner trustworthiness in the past 15 years,⁹ developing five major themes that contribute to trustworthiness: Humility, Capability, Agency, Reliability, and Integrity. Let’s examine each of these through the lens of male allyship.

Humility

Humility involves knowing one’s limits, asking for help, and being receptive to feedback.⁹ The first thing men need to do is to put their egos in check and recognize that women do not need rescuing; they need partnership. Systemic inequities have led to men holding the majority of leadership positions and significant sociopolitical capital, and correcting these inequities is more feasible when those in leadership and positions of power contribute. Women don’t need knights in shining armor, they need collaborative activism.

Humility also means a willingness to admit fallibility and to ask for help. Men often don’t know what they don’t know (see my foibles in the opening). As David G. Smith, PhD, and W. Brad Johnson, PhD, write in their book, “Good Guys,” “There are no perfect allies. As you work to become a better ally for the women around you, you will undoubtedly make a mistake.”¹⁰ Men must accept feedback on their shortcomings as allies without feeling as though they are losing their sociopolitical standing. Allyship for women does not mean there is a devaluing of men. We must escape a “zero-sum” mindset. Mistakes are where growth happens, but only if we approach our missteps with humility.
 

Capability

Capability entails having the necessary knowledge, skills, and attitudes to be a strong ally. Allyship is not intuitive for most men for several reasons. Many men do not experience the same biases or systemic inequities that women do, and therefore perceive them less frequently. I want to acknowledge that men can be victims of other systemic biases such as those against one’s race, ethnicity, gender identity, sexual orientation, religion, or any number of factors. Men who face inequities for these other reasons may be more cognizant of the biases women face. Even so, allyship is a skill that few men have been explicitly taught. Even if taught, few standard or organized mechanisms for feedback on allyship capability exist. How, then, can men become capable allies?

Just like in medical education, men must become self-directed learners who seek to build capability and receive feedback on their performance as allies. Men should seek allyship training through local women-in-medicine programs or organizations, or through the increasing number of national education options such as the recent ADVANCE PHM Gender Equity Symposium. As with learning any skill, men should go to the literature, seeking knowledge from experts in the field. I recommend starting with “Good Guys: How Men Can Be Better Allies for Women in the Workplace¹⁰ or “Athena Rising: How and Why Men Should Mentor Women.”¹¹ Both books, by Dr. Smith and Dr. Johnson, are great entry points into the gender allyship literature. Seek out other resources from local experts on gender equity and allyship. Both aforementioned books were recommended to me by a friend and gender equity expert; without her guidance I would not have known where to start.
 

Agency

Agency involves being proactive and engaged rather than passive or apathetic. Men must be enthusiastic allies who seek out opportunities to mentor and sponsor women rather than waiting for others to ask. Agency requires being curious and passionate about improving. Most men in medicine are not openly and explicitly misogynistic or sexist, but many are only passive when it comes to gender equity and allyship. Trustworthy allyship entails turning passive support into active change. Not sure how to start? A good first step is to ask female colleagues questions such as, “What can I do to be a better ally for you in the workplace?” or “What are some things at work that are most challenging to you, but I might not notice because I’m a man?” Curiosity is the springboard toward agency.

Reliability

Reliability means being conscientious, accountable, and doing what we say we will do. Nothing undermines trustworthiness faster than making a commitment and not following through. Allyship cannot be a show or an attempt to get public plaudits. It is a longitudinal commitment to supporting women through individual mentorship and sponsorship, and to work toward institutional and systems change.

Reliability also means taking an equitable approach to what Dr. Smith and Dr. Johnson call “office housework.” They define this as “administrative work that is necessary but undervalued, unlikely to lead to promotion, and disproportionately assigned to women.”¹⁰ In medicine, these tasks include organizing meetings, taking notes, planning social events, and remembering to celebrate colleagues’ achievements and milestones. Men should take on more of these tasks and advocate for change when the distribution of office housework in their workplace is inequitably directed toward women.
 

Integrity

Integrity involves honesty, professionalism, and benevolence. It is about making the morally correct choice even if there is potential risk. When men see gender inequity, they have an obligation to speak up. Whether it is overtly misogynistic behavior, subtle sexism, use of gendered language, inequitable distribution of office housework, lack of inclusivity and recognition for women, or another form of inequity, men must act with integrity and make it clear that they are partnering with women for change. Integrity means being an ally even when women are not present, and advocating that women be “at the table” for important conversations.

Beyond the individual

Allyship cannot end with individual actions; systems changes that build trustworthy institutions are necessary. Organizational leaders must approach gender conversations with humility to critically examine inequities and agency to implement meaningful changes. Workplace cultures and institutional policies should be reviewed with an eye toward system-level integrity and reliability for promoting and supporting women. Ongoing faculty and staff development programs must provide men with the knowledge, skills, and attitudes (capability) to be strong allies. We have a long history of male-dominated institutions that are unfair or (worse) unsafe for women. Many systems are designed in a way that disadvantages women. These systems must be redesigned through an equity lens to start building trust with women in medicine.

Becoming trustworthy is a process

Even the best male allies have room to improve their trustworthiness. Many men (myself included) have a LOT of room to improve, but they should not get discouraged by the amount of ground to be gained. Steady, deliberate improvement in men’s humility, capability, agency, reliability, and integrity can build the foundation of trust with female colleagues. Trust takes time. It takes effort. It takes vulnerability. It is an ongoing, developmental process that requires deliberate practice, frequent reflection, and feedback from our female colleagues.

Dr. Kinnear is associate professor of internal medicine and pediatrics in the Division of Hospital Medicine at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital Medical Center and University of Cincinnati Medical Center. He is associate program director for the Med-Peds and Internal Medicine residency programs.

References

1. Ten Cate O. Nuts and bolts of entrustable professional activities. J Grad Med Educ. 2013 Mar;5(1):157-8. doi: 10.4300/JGME-D-12-00380.1.

2. Ten Cate O. Entrustment decisions: Bringing the patient into the assessment equation. Acad Med. 2017 Jun;92(6):736-8. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000001623.

3. Kennedy TJT et al. Point-of-care assessment of medical trainee competence for independent clinical work. Acad Med. 2008 Oct;83(10 Suppl):S89-92. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0b013e318183c8b7.

4. Choo KJ et al. How do supervising physicians decide to entrust residents with unsupervised tasks? A qualitative analysis. J Hosp Med. 2014 Mar;9(3):169-75. doi: 10.1002/jhm.2150.

5. Hauer KE et al. How clinical supervisors develop trust in their trainees: A qualitative study. Med Educ. 2015 Aug;49(8):783-95. doi: 10.1111/medu.12745.

6. Sterkenburg A et al. When do supervising physicians decide to entrust residents with unsupervised tasks? Acad Med. 2010 Sep;85(9):1408-17. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0b013e3181eab0ec.

7. Sheu L et al. How supervisor experience influences trust, supervision, and trainee learning: A qualitative study. Acad Med. 2017 Sep;92(9):1320-7. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000001560.

8. Pingree EW et al. Encouraging entrustment: A qualitative study of resident behaviors that promote entrustment. Acad Med. 2020 Nov;95(11):1718-25. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000003487.

9. Ten Cate O, Chen HC. The ingredients of a rich entrustment decision. Med Teach. 2020 Dec;42(12):1413-20. doi: 10.1080/0142159X.2020.1817348.

10. Smith DG, Johnson WB. Good guys: How men can be better allies for women in the workplace: Harvard Business School Publishing Corporation 2020.

11. Johnson WB, Smith D. Athena rising: How and why men should mentor women: Routledge 2016.