APRIL 15, 2020
Dr. Rachel M. Bond has seen the difference
black cardiologists can make.
She recalls the time she volunteered to give a
brief talk at a predominantly black church in Brooklyn, New York. Many of the
members, she said, had untreated heart problems—because they'd felt physicians
didn't understand them or take them seriously.
"After that meeting, you would be
surprised how many women and men came to my practice to learn more information.
They felt that they could identify now with a doctor who wanted to take the
time to teach their community," Bond said. They responded to someone who
showed more compassion than what they were used to, could relate to how they
lived and what they ate, and could help them make healthy lifestyle changes.
Research has shown minorities prefer
physicians who look like them and can forge a connection, said Bond, now
medical director of the Women's Heart Health Program at Dignity Health in
Arizona.
Among African Americans, that connection is
particularly important: They have higher rates of high blood pressure and are
more likely to die from heart disease than their white peers. One recent study
suggested the gap in deaths from cardiovascular causes between black men and
white men could be cut by 19% if black men were seen by black physicians.
But few get that chance.
According to the American College of Cardiology,
even though African Americans make up 13% of the population, fewer than 3% of
cardiologists were African American as of 2015. That's lower than the overall
rate of black physicians, which the Association of American Medical Colleges
puts at 5%.
Dr. Icilma Fergus, director of cardiovascular
disparities for Mount Sinai Heart in New York, also knows the power that comes
from sharing a background with her patients. People want their doctor to be a
partner, someone they can trust, said Fergus, a past president of the
Association of Black Cardiologists.
To build that trust, she talks about her own
experiences and uses real-life experiences to get people to listen and
understand their treatment.
But the path would-be cardiologists take is
full of obstacles.
For starters, medical school is long and
expensive. And medical schools haven't worked as hard in recruitment, so bright
prospects might be lured to other fields.
Negative perceptions of cardiology may deter
some prospects. Although cardiologists report being pleased with their jobs
overall, a study found medical trainees associated cardiology with adverse job
conditions, interference with family life and a lack of diversity.
An under-represented minority medical
student considering cardiology also knows that because their
numbers are small, they'll be called on to do more, Fergus said. "They're
not just taking care of patients, but they're speakers and educators and
reaching out and doing a myriad of things because they're the role
models." Some hesitate to take on these additional responsibilities.
And, she and Bond pointed out, women and
ethnic minorities often encounter bias, particularly as they try to climb the
academic and leadership ladder. Bond said in places "where I have a lot of
colleagues who don't look like me," some have inappropriately questioned
her knowledge and authority, even when she was performing her leadership roles.
According to the ACC, less than 3% of medical
school faculty are African American.
But Bond and Fergus also said mentors have
guided their careers—and they see doing the same as part of a long-term
solution.
Both say efforts to recruit future
cardiologists need to start young, an idea backed by large health organizations
and nonprofits.
Earlier this year, Fergus spoke to some young
men taking part in a Jack and Jill of America Rockland Orange Chapter career
fair for high school students.
"Some were even thinking they wanted to
be nurses. But once I started talking to them, letting them know what I'm doing
and how I got there and the rewards," she said, "then they were like,
'Wow, I didn't know that. I'd like to explore that.'"
Bond knew in preschool she wanted to be a
doctor. She ended up attending the City University of New York's Sophie Davis
School of Biomedical Education Program, which focuses on health in underserved
communities. The program partnered students with physicians in different
fields, including many cardiologists.
Still, she was the only person of color in her
cardiology fellowship class. The field's lack of diversity became only more
apparent as she advanced.
Now, she makes time to be involved in
organizations that advocate for diversity. She mentors students. She also
serves on committees that interview medical school applicants, because she
understands that's one more way to make a difference.
"I think it's very important that when
people are interviewing, either before medical
school or residency, that they see somebody that looks
different than what they think a cardiologist may
look like," she said. "Because that may entice them to say, 'Well, if
they're doing it, I can do it, too.'"
Explore further: Burnout a major and growing issue among U.S.
cardiologists
American Heart Association News covers
heart and brain health. Not all views expressed in this story reflect the
official position of the American Heart Association. Copyright is owned or held
by the American Heart Association, Inc., and all rights are reserved. If you
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