
Shaniece Clarke Throughout history, healers, medicine men, physicians and leeches were known by many names — but today, we call them doctors. Their primary responsibility is to treat and cure illnesses.
Yet, as with many systems shaped by historical inequalities, racism has long influenced health care practices, making it difficult for Black people to receive equitable treatment. Rooted in the false belief that race is a biological distinction, racial biases have led to disparities in
patient-provider interactions, treatment decisions and health outcomes.
Despite advancements in research debunking the notion of biological
racial differences, racism remains embedded in the health care system,
leaving many Black people feeling unsafe and underserved. The alarming
rise in Black maternal mortality is just one devastating consequence.
The
idea that race determines health outcomes has deep roots in
pseudoscience. Myths such as “Black people are more likely to have
asthma” or “Black people have stronger kidneys” were never
scientifically grounded; instead, they ignored the impact of
environmental factors, socioeconomic conditions and access to care.
These
misconceptions persist today, influencing how Black patients are
treated. A 2016 study published in The New England Journal of Medicine
highlighted that 25 to 42% of medical students and residents at the
University of Virginia believed false statements like “Black people’s
skin is thicker than white people’s.” When such myths are still taught —
or at least not actively refuted — biases continue to affect patient
care in dangerous ways.
Historical mistreatment of Black people in medicine provides important context for today’s disparities. A striking
example comes from the 1918 influenza pandemic, when many white
physicians and public health officials falsely believed that Black
people were immune to the virus. This racist misconception led to
widespread neglect of Black communities, who were denied the same
preventative care and treatment as their white counterparts. In reality,
Black populations were often more vulnerable due to overcrowded living
conditions, poor access to health care and systemic inequalities. Yet,
the biased medical practices of the time worsened outcomes for many
Black patients.
Similarly,
books like “Medical Bondage: Race, Gender, and the Origins of American
Gynecology” reveal how 19th-century physicians experimented on enslaved
Black women without anesthesia, under the racist assumption that they
had a higher pain
tolerance. This legacy continues to influence how Black women’s pain is
dismissed today, particularly during childbirth. A CDC report from 2021
showed that Black women are three times more likely to die from
pregnancy-related causes than white women, with 84% of these deaths
deemed preventable.
Many
Black women have shared their fears of discrimination, stating that
their concerns are often dismissed or minimized by health care
providers.
This
persistent fear has led many Black women to seek out Black OB-GYNs,
hoping for empathetic care grounded in shared experiences. Dr. J’Leise
Sosa, a Black OB-GYN, has spoken about how her patients often choose her
to avoid becoming another statistic. Many express a fear of dying
during childbirth or being ignored when raising valid concerns — a fear
backed by systemic evidence.
Recent
research highlights the tangible benefits of representation in
medicine. A study in Oakland found that Black male patients paired with
Black doctors were more likely to discuss additional health concerns,
and Black physicians were more proactive in documenting patient needs.
This underscores how trust, understanding and shared cultural
experiences can lead to better outcomes.
Racism
in health care is not just a relic of the past — it’s a systemic issue
woven into the fabric of medical institutions. From myths of immunity
during the 1918 flu pandemic to the ongoing dismissal of Black women’s
pain, these biases continue to endanger Black lives. While dismantling
these biases won’t happen overnight, action must be taken now to protect
Black patients. Representation, culturally competent care and systemic
reforms are critical steps toward ensuring every person receives the
safe, equitable treatment they deserve.
Shaniece
Clarke is a senior, dedicated to education and personal growth. She has
enriched her learning through programs at Suffolk University, Yale
Young Global Scholars, and Emerson College, while gaining experience
with Teens in Print, NBCUniversal, the Museum of Science, and the
Mayor’s Youth Council.