I like what is straightforward—who doesn’t? However, I also enjoy facing complex situations: what can compare to the satisfaction we feel when we are able to detangle convoluted clinical pictures? But what I love—and fear—is the inexplicable, the uncertain: intangible moments where there are no algorithms, few (if any) guidelines, and all you have is yourself and your past experiences. These moments, regrettably rare, exist when we decide to elicit our empathy: discovering aspects of patient care that add color to a potentially monochrome nine-to-five lifestyle.
Or they can also surface when we are challenged in ways we might not have desired.
As a woman and a member of a minority group (Latina), I have faced moments, patients, and mentors that have contested my values and taught me in ways that formal education could not. I have learned from the moments where I have stood blank, with thoughts racing and no appropriate follow-up, wishing there was an all-encompassing algorithm detailing how to work with a patient who belittles you…a colleague who fails to promote respect…or a mentor who writes your concern off with “just have patience.”
I refuse to accept the title of “victim,” but I also find honor in equally and passionately refusing to accept the other title of “bystander.” I admit that this conviction is rooted in my history of mistakenly and repetitively assuming these titles. However, when I find myself in a challenging encounter, I always remember that I am not alone. Even though there are days when I feel that my skin must be transparent (or why else would they look at me like that?), I remember the many female physicians who have motivated me throughout my career. Even more so, I look to my peers: a diverse and extraordinary group of compassionate and absolutely fearless women. Among them, I am honored, humbled, and reminded that no change can be made alone.
As such, I have charged myself to take responsibility for the future—for those women who will one day follow this path that has so long remained under construction. Because I am indebted to all those before me, I believe the most logical and necessary step to support diversity in medicine is to encourage younger women and other minority groups to join. Together, we can redefine what is normal, redefine what is acceptable, and always challenge these notions. We must consistently support one another across all levels as our journey is far from finished.
I know that I will continually experience moments wherein my plans and expectations are completely dismantled. But I refuse to allow circumstance to substitute my conviction for change. Instead, I know my experiences add color to my career, heat to my passion, and fortitude to the strength that is our community of women, minorities, leaders, students, and physicians who persistently redefine the future by changing today.
Stephanie Amaya is a 2nd year medical student at The University of Arizona College of Medicine – Phoenix. She completed her undergraduate degree in physiology at The University of Arizona. She co-chairs the Latino Medical Student Association chapter on campus, which promotes diversity and culturally competent care.