Black Student Application Program

'The kind of doctor I want to be': ��˾��ֱ�� Medicine grad Chika Oriuwa on becoming an advocate for diversity

Christopher.Sorensen — Tue, 26 May 2020 22:49:38 +0000

'The kind of doctor I want to be': ��˾��ֱ�� Medicine grad Chika Oriuwa on becoming an advocate for diversity

Christopher.Sorensen Tue, 05/26/2020 - 18:49

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The only Black student in her class four years ago, Chika Oriuwa became an advocate for diversity in her field and is now the Faculty of Medicine's valedictorian (photo by Andrew Francis Wallace/Toronto Star via Getty Images)

Julia Soudat

Topic

Our Community

Convocation 2020

Coronavirus

Black Student Application Program

Diversity and Inclusion

When she started medical school at the University of Toronto in 2016, Chika Oriuwa didn’t anticipate becoming valedictorian of the Faculty of Medicine.

“There’s a certain weight that comes along with this title that didn’t really hit me until I fully came to realize and appreciate the gravity of this,” she says. “It’s a big honour and I’m so grateful.”

In her first year of medicine, Oriuwa was the only Black student in her class – a discovery that catapulted her into four years of advocacy, speaking engagements and media attention. “My medical school experience was definitely underscored by my experiences as a woman of colour,” says Oriuwa. “I never thought that when I started medical school, a huge part of my narrative would be wrapped around being an advocate and bringing attention to equity, inclusion and diversity within the curriculum and just within life in general.”

That narrative coincided with change – in 2017, the faculty introduced the Black Student Application Program and the number of Black students in the MD program began to increase, with 14 students in the 2018-2019 academic year and 15 students in 2019-2020. For Oriuwa, meanwhile, there were new opportunities. “It has opened so many doors,” Oriuwa says. “And it made me recognize my passion for advocacy. I've always loved advocacy, but for me, this has made it a lot more concrete and tangible and it showed me the kind of doctor I want to be.”

Yezarni Wynn, Oriuwa’s classmate and a class of 2020 co-president, was thrilled to hear Oriuwa was selected as valedictorian. “I believe our class chose Chika for her tenacious advocacy for inclusion and diversity in medicine – something visibly lacking in our class when it was identified she was the sole Black student in it,” says Wynn. “Chika represents a shift in the way we look at leadership in medicine and I think our class recognizes the overdue need for this change.”

It’s a bittersweet moment for Oriuwa since the COVID-19 pandemic has made it impossible for graduating students to walk across the convocation stage together or for Oriuwa to deliver her valedictorian speech live to hundreds of familiar faces, friends and loved ones. She will, however, share a pre-recorded speech with the class during a virtual pre-convocation event on June 2.

“I’m excited and a little bit nervous, but very grateful to do it,” Oriuwa says. “ Unlike any other class, we’re faced with such a terrifying time to start residency. I want my speech to leave them feeling empowered, emboldened and ready to face what’s coming up. We are ready for this. We were made for this.”

Wynn, for one, has little doubt Oriuwa’s pre-recorded speech will leave the class of 2020 moved and inspired. “Chika is well known for her impactful spoken word poetry and I think our class can anticipate an incredibly powerful and thoughtful send-off from her speech,” Wynn says.

And speaking to big crowds is something Oriuwa loves. A writer and poet, Oriuwa says she rediscovered her passion for public speaking in medical school. For International Women’s Day in 2018, Oriuwa delivered a keynote speech at Women’s College Hospital. The organizer of the event told Oriuwa she’s never had such an overwhelming response to a speaker at the hospital. The audience was captivated – there were people sitting on the floor, standing in the aisles and at the back of the auditorium.

It was a pivotal moment for Oriuwa and one she will always remember. “At that moment, I recognized I have the potential to really effect change in this field and in society,” says Oriuwa. “And from that day on, it was a great responsibility that I knew I could never take for granted. I needed to be exceptional. And exceptionally careful and responsible and do my due diligence at every point, at every turn. It was the absolute best experience.”

Being an integral part of the faculty’s Black Student Application Program and Black Medical Student Association (BMSA) was an equally important experience. Oriuwa says her work on these initiatives has been the springboard for the advocacy she’s done over the past four years. “Everything circles back to the fact that I firmly believe we need to integrate and place value on diversity in our medical education and have that reflect in the student body,” she says.

BMSA Co-President Semir Bulle says Oriuwa was pivotal in helping pave the way for other Black medical students to follow in her footsteps at the foundation. “Chika is absolutely amazing,” he says. “From her constant support to her effortless leadership, she sets the bar so high in everything she does.

“I hope she understands how much she means to us being here, and we will make her proud as we take the BMSA to the next level and truly change the face of medicine.”

Mentorship is important to Oriuwa, who says it’s what got her through medical school. “I’ve had some amazing mentors at the Faculty of Medicine – among them, Drs. Onye Nnorom, Lisa Robinson and Pier Bryden,” she says. “They have been instrumental to my success within medicine and advocacy. They’ve taught me so many things about how to be a doctor that I wouldn’t have learned in the classroom and have shaped who I am today – especially when it comes to how I navigate medicine as a Black woman.”

When it comes to mentoring others, Oriuwa explains it’s one of her top priorities. “Everything I do, I do with the spirit of mentorship,” she says. “Whether it’s being a mentor for young Black Canadians or connecting them with mentorship opportunities that will help them excel at whatever it is they choose to do. I believe mentorship is the key that unlocks the doors of opportunity.”

Oriuwa credits Bryden as among the reasons she chose to pursue a residency in psychiatry. Although she was convinced she wanted to be an internist through most of medical school, Oriuwa says she fell in love with psychiatry when she realized it would allow her to combine her passions.

“I’ve never felt more myself than I felt when I was doing my psychiatry rotation,” Oriuwa says. “It was the perfect marriage of medicine and advocacy and who I am outside of medicine. Psychiatric patients are some of the most vulnerable and marginalized in medicine. I've always believed I was called to protect and safeguard society's most marginalized. So, for me, once it clicked, it was a no-brainer.”

Bryden, an associate professor of psychiatry, agrees that psychiatry is the perfect fit for Oriuwa. “Canadian psychiatry needs Chika,” she says. “With her exceptional intelligence and breadth of understanding, her commitment to learning and inquiryand to systems-level leadership, and advocacy for the underserved – she will be a force for greatly needed change in our profession.”

While starting residency in the middle of a pandemic is daunting, Oriuwa believes her classmates are up to the challenge. She describes them as innovators and people who think outside the box.

“That’s been emphasized throughout this pandemic, where I've seen people in my class step up in ingenious and creative ways to support our front-line workers,” says Oriuwa. “They're super creative and brilliant doctors, but they’re also innovators and I think they're game-changers. I'm excited to see what my class will do in the future because I know I’m in the company of people who will certainly change the face of medicine.”

Read about ��˾��ֱ�� medical students who supported front-line workers on the home front

Read about ��˾��ֱ�� medical students who collected protective gear for health-care workers

One of the biggest lessons Oriuwa learned in medical school is that physicians are just human beings helping other human beings. “I’m not better than anyone else for doing this work,” she says. “This is simply the work that I believe I should be doing. This is how I want to spend my life – it's an honour and a privilege.”

As for her mentors, they’re confident Oriuwa will continue to do an exemplary job. Patricia Houston, vice-dean of ��˾��ֱ��’s MD program, says, “Chika is a gracious, generous and gifted student who has had a significant impact on her fellow students, the faculty, staff and our program. I know she will be a health systems leader as she progresses in her career and I look forward to calling her my colleague.”

Nnorom says she couldn’t be more proud of Oriuwa and all that she’s achieved. “Chika proved that despite the numerous barriers that must be overcome in order to speak truth to power, it is possible to succeed and thrive as a Black woman with full authenticity in the field of medicine,” she says. “This is inspiring to everyone who believes in equity — both young and old. It’s hope. It’s power. It’s beautiful.”

For Oriuwa, medical school is drawing to a close. But she says her passion for advocacy will remain.

“Most of my advocacy is about being able to build up a community of Black doctors and support traditionally underrepresented groups,” she says. “I see what newer generations of Black medical students have – Black classmates – and it’s something I never had. But that makes it worth the journey for me. My dream is that no student will ever be the only Black person in their class. And I will continue to do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Note: This story was updated on June 3, 2020

'When you grow up not knowing or seeing a single doctor of colour ... it makes you question why things are the way they are'

noreen.rasbach — Wed, 16 Jan 2019 17:45:56 +0000

'When you grow up not knowing or seeing a single doctor of colour ... it makes you question why things are the way they are'

noreen.rasbach Wed, 01/16/2019 - 12:45

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��˾��ֱ�� medical students Semir Bulle (left) and Chantal Phillips (right) with Dr. Onye Nnorom, MD Black health lead of the MD program (photo by Julia Soudat)

Liam Mitchell

Topic

City & Culture

Black Student Application Program

Diversity and Inclusion

Faculty of Medicine

Mentorship

The Faculty of Medicine’s Black Student Application Program (BSAP), which began in 2017, provides a more culturally safe admission pathway for Black students to medical school. Modelled on a similar pathway for Indigenous students, BSAP welcomed its first cohort in September.

Now, after one term in ��˾��ֱ��’s MD program, Faculty of Medicine writer Liam Mitchell spoke with two students who participated in BSAP – Chantal Phillips and Semir Bulle – to discuss their experiences and reflections on why BSAP matters.

What inspired your interest in medicine?

Chantal Phillips: My mother was a personal support worker (PSW) throughout my childhood and it was clear how much she cared for her patients. Having her as an example of what an empathetic health-care provider looked like gave me insight and sparked my desire to emulate that in my own career. At the systemic level, my interest in addressing health disparities in the Black community was a major propelling factor. Overall, I knew being a doctor would help merge my desire to positively and directly impact lives, while also influencing social systems that have downstream effects on the morbidity and mortality of Black Canadians.

Semir Bulle: Growing up in the Dixon-Rexdale area, the majority of people in my community were newly landed immigrants and refugees. I’ve witnessed countless situations in which people wouldn’t go to the doctor because they felt the doctor wouldn’t properly understand them and worried the recommended course of action would be unaffordable. When you live paycheque to paycheque, being sick can be the straw that breaks the camel’s back and I just don’t think that’s fair in our society. That, coupled with my experiences serving in the hospitals in rural Ethiopia, has shaped my view on life and the intersection of health care and policy work.

Faculty of Medicine program opens opportunities to Black MD students

Do you have a sense of what type of medicine you want to practise?

Chantal Phillips: Throughout the first four months of medical school, I was certain I wanted to be a public health physician. Many of the physicians I look up to prioritize the role of public health in their careers and I assumed that would be the best way to express my passion for advocacy. However, through more recent experiences shadowing, I’ve started to challenge that notion. Public health can be incorporated into practically any specialty and the social determinants of health play a pivotal role for all patients. With that being said, I’m back to square one and excited to further explore additional specialties.

Semir Bulle: Right now, I’m definitely leaning towards surgery. I enjoy the hands-on nature of the work and the intricacies of the human body interest me. However, I’ll certainly pursue policy work and political avenues, too, since I believe that’s where the true impact is when it comes to overall change.

Did you know many Black health-care professionals before applying to med school?

Chantal Phillips: Absolutely none. I’m the first in my family to get a degree and I had no role models or mentors on my path to medicine, which is essential to increasing representation. When you grow up not knowing or seeing a single doctor of colour, but most of the underpaid support staff are people of colour, it makes you question why things are the way they are.

Semir Bulle: Most of the Black health-care professionals I encountered were PSWs or nurses. I’d never been treated by a Black physician, despite living in Toronto and then Brampton, which have substantial Black populations.

Why do you think Black students have been under-represented in medicine?

Chantal Phillips: The nature of privilege and education is multifaceted. Getting into medical school doesn’t start with the application cycle. It starts the moment we’re born and become learners. Black communities experience higher rates of poverty, which influences access to educational resources.

Semir Bulle: In Toronto, the average low-income family makes $32,000 before taxes. Black people are only eight per cent of the city’s population but make up 13 per cent of its poor. Compare that to the three per cent of Black individuals considered ‘high-income’ at $102,000 annually. As David Hulchanski, a social work professor here at ��˾��ֱ��, said: “Money buys choice, and people with the most choice are going to choose to live in certain areas.” This contributes to racial disparities in our neighbourhoods and different standards of life for these people.

Chantal Phillips: Children from families of higher socioeconomic status typically have parents with the means to support educational activities. Academic summer camps, time at the library, tutors and early mentorship are examples of privileges that establish a foundation for learning and advancement. Furthermore, underrepresentation is cyclical. When you don’t see people who look like you represented in a particular field, especially a competitive one, it can have a negative impact on your self-image and self-efficacy.

How did BSAP help you get to know ��˾��ֱ�� Medicine better, and help ��˾��ֱ�� Medicine get to know you better?

Semir Bulle: This is the first time I’ve had a group of Black peers in university. I went to McMaster and had a diverse friend group, but the lack of Black people was always apparent, especially in science. BSAP gave me a sense of community and that my academic experiences were similar to others.

Chantal Phillips: BSAP reinforces the advocacy, diversity and inclusion outlined in the ��˾��ֱ�� Medicine strategic plan. It’s one thing to read a strategic plan and another to see measurable action of these documents. Investing in this stream to address an evident disparity emphasized the authenticity of these claims. Applying through the BSAP stream also allowed me to more genuinely speak about my involvement in the Black community. I was confident these initiatives would be appreciated for their full value, considering there were Black community members reviewing the applications.

Semir Bulle: ��˾��ֱ�� has done a good job of supporting us, which allows us to be free to learn how to become doctors while still serving the communities we come from and adore.

How was your experience during the first term of the MD Program?

Chantal Phillips: My initial transition to medical school wasn’t easy. Uprooting and rebuilding your home, academic standing, social circle and community initiatives would be tumultuous for practically anyone. I got really sick at the beginning of flu season because of how much stress I was putting myself under. It was a wake-up call and made me realize I needed to alter what I was doing. I decided to prioritize my wellness and growth. Since then, I’ve been much happier and better integrated. I’m excited to be here and meeting so many amazing people. This might be the honeymoon phase, but I hope it persists and I continue enjoying learning as much as I do now.

Semir Bulle: I’ve had some of the best times of my life. Everyone has been friendly and there’s a real sense of community. I know most of the people in my class and we get to socialize frequently while getting some of the best education in the world, so there’s really nothing to complain about right now.

What would you say to a Black student considering studying medicine at ��˾��ֱ��?

Semir Bulle: Do your research and look into what you have to do from the second you walk into university. Reach out to as many people as you can and put yourself out there, which is something I never did. It’s going to be a hard road but with sacrifice and a little luck, anything is possible. Also, reach out to us at the Black Medical Students’ Association (BMSA) – we’d give advice if you need it.

Chantal Phillips: BSAP has set a precedent for what an inclusive, advocacy-oriented medical school looks like. Black students are becoming better represented here, there are Black faculty members and social justice is discussed throughout the curriculum. If you’re intimidated by the application process, want to build a network or seek mentorship, please connect with Ike Okafor who facilitates the Community of Support. Mentorship and preparation are key to a successful medical school application. I can speak on behalf of the other Black medical students and say that we’d love for you to be a part of this community.