Contributing Writer
Baylor College of Medicine
Joniqua Ceasar is a member of Baylor College of Medicine's Class of 2020. She is passionate about social justice within medicine and plans to engage in a career of public health. When she isn't in the hospital, you can find her working on a DIY craft project, tweeting via @rxforjustice, or snapping photos on her DSLR.
December 10, 2015 marks the one-year anniversary of the inception of White Coats for Black Lives, a national organization of medical students that aims to eliminate racial bias and racism in the practice of medicine — as they are threats to the health and well-being of people of color.
One year ago, on December 10, 2014, over 3,000 medical students participated in the National White Coat Die-In. We knelt to the ground, rested our backs on concrete and tile, looked up at the ceiling and contemplated what it meant to be a citizen. We embraced a deafening silence pregnant with the implications of erasure. Our bodies, cloaked in the privilege of a white coat, painted a complicated image of advocacy and appropriation.
Our American democracy was founded on the promise of freedom of religion, a conviction that invites immigrants from all over the world and enables our country to grow and prosper. Our health care system is strong because we celebrate that diversity — understanding diverse perspectives and cultural practices is fundamental to providing the highest quality of care. Today, hatred and xenophobia have been thrust into our daily lives in a way that degrades our common humanity and impairs our ability to work together.
My friend, Valerie Schwartz, and I stumbled on the importance of collaborative thinking while we spent our usual afternoon quizzing each other and discussing patient cases during our pediatrics rotation. “At what age can babies start to use non-specific ‘mama’ and ‘dada’?” As I sifted through my knowledge bank, a third friend decided to throw me a lifeline. I thought it was 10 months, he thought it was six months. So, we decided to compromise. We landed on six months after deliberations.
Year 1, year 2, year 3, year 4 / Each year you learn a little more / Before graduating in four / Always yearning for more
Reform. Disrupt. Innovate. These words are undeniably components of today’s medical vernacular and as medical students we are positioned in the middle of a dynamic health care landscape. The past few years have set forth a unique training phase for aspiring physicians. Medicine is evolving; not only from a legislative perspective, but also through a continually stronger relationship with technology that is driving human understanding into previously incomprehensible territory.
As a native New Yorker, I was thrilled when last month Governor Cuomo announced plans for an executive order that prohibits discrimination against transgender people. This executive order would apply to issues such as employment and housing, expand existing anti-discrimination protections to include gender identity, transgender status and gender dysphoria.
I’m an academic and an educator. When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I chose to be treated in a university setting. It felt right to me, that if I had to go through the experience of breast cancer, that my body would become a teaching tool. It helped provide some form of meaning to the experience. It is with this lens that I found myself regretting not calling out to the clearly first-rotation medical student while in the emergency room.
I am honored by this opportunity to offer you some advice on how to prepare for your professional career in what has become a treacherous health care system. I will not elaborate on why I think the health care system is “treacherous.” I will assume — and even hope — that you have at least some inkling that things are not rosy in the world of medicine.
As I settle into my second year of medical school, I’m confronted with the fact that I’m one-fourth of the way to an M.D. — that an entire year has passed, and unsurprisingly, all those predictions my deans made at the very beginning came to pass: time flew, we learned more than we thought we ever could, and upon close self-examination, we’re very different from how we were this time last year.
In our undergraduate careers and as far back as high school, we were encouraged, and often required, to volunteer and serve our community. Whether it was a project we believed in or just something to put on our resumes, volunteering was a part of every medical student’s life before enrolling. As classes have grown more hectic and free time becomes scarcer throughout the years, service activities are often cut from the schedule. It is not unusual for medical students to leave behind passions; I know concert violinists who no longer play, Division I athletes who no longer compete, and people who traveled all over the world that never leave the library.
The call for a more global medical curriculum — one that not only recognizes, but prioritizes health issues that transcend national, political and cultural demarcations — is coming from all sides. American medical student interest and participation in international electives is considerable, and surveys indicate that its growth has accelerated in recent years.
Former Editor-in-Chief (2017-2018) and Former Medical Student Editor (2016)
University of Rochester School of Medicine and Dentistry
Ria is a Class of 2018 medical student. She graduated from the University of Rochester with a BS in neuroscience. Her interests include human behavior, social justice work, art, public health, and mnemonics.
