I am a gastrointestinal medical oncologist. I am also a Black woman. When people ask me how I got here, this is the story I share. In 2011, while sitting in a medical school lecture I received an email from a classmate that read: “Open this, you should apply.” It described a program for students who are underrepresented in medicine and interested in pursuing a career in oncology. Without hesitation, I submitted my application; months later, I was accepted. This rotation provided my first exposure to oncology. As I shadowed specialized oncologists and their trainees, I learned how to take an oncology history, how to identify suspicious findings on scans, and what a tumor board was. Had it not been for this rotation, it is very possible that I could have completed medical school and residency without ever providing care for a patient with cancer. Nearly 15 years later, with an Internal Medicine residency and medical oncology fellowship also behind me, I now practice as a gastrointestinal medical oncologist at Yale School of Medicine. I worked hard to arrive here, but I also wonder if my career path would have been possible if it were not for the opportunity afforded to me during medical school.

A recent report shows that only 2-3 percent of medical oncologists identify as Black despite Black individuals comprising 13 percent of the U.S. population. Since this data was published, the Trump administration has worked to ban and defund programs focusing on diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI). As a result, minority students are less likely to participate in programs that would help them explore careers they may have never considered. Medical school classes will also likely be less diverse, as they have changed their recruitment practices and policies because of the administration’s actions. These decisions will contribute to a less diverse health care workforce, and a less healthy public. Data shows that when patients and providers share the same race medical care can be optimized leading to improved health care. Additionally, it has been shown that increased representation of Black physicians contributes to improving survival of Black patients.

DEI hiring and recruitment initiatives were established to provide enhanced experiences and opportunities for communities that have been historically marginalized. These efforts marked an attempt to even a playing field that for so long has left underrepresented students far behind due to barriers such as structural racism. In medicine, pathway programs were developed to provide a less obstructed path for those that are underrepresented. These programs have offered personalized training for students who were historically underrepresented in the profession. They also provided a community of individuals with similar backgrounds, creating a safe space to ask questions and reveal vulnerabilities. DEI has exposed students (like me) who would often be overlooked for career paths that they ordinarily would not be aware of or have little understanding of how to pursue.

DEI is best for our patients and for our future. It allows first-generation students to build a resume that positions them for future success. It gives students the opportunity to create a legacy that is not limited by the color of their skin, the sound of their voice, the pronoun that they prefer, or the neighborhood that they grew up in. Yet in 2025, simply uttering the phrase “DEI” aloud is considered dangerous and at times inappropriate. This is concerning considering that DEI stands for: Diversity, or a community that welcomes the voice of all; Equity, or ensuring everyone has the resources they need to excel; and Inclusion, or providing everyone a sense of belonging. Far from being controversial, DEI should be the goal for our nation. We should individually and collectively be striving to foster a community where we are allowed to speak safely and freely despite differing opinions, races, sexual orientation, or socioeconomic status. We should be striving to create opportunities for the disadvantaged so that they are allowed to build a legacy of hope and dreams.

To be sure, DEI initiatives are largely focused on marginalized communities which can lead to others feeling as if they are somehow disadvantaged. These sentiments suggest that DEI programs may benefit from evolution not abolition. Future direction can ensure all voices are heard and considered.

My career and legacy are possible because of the sacrifices of my single parent mother and my Granny, who passed from pancreatic cancer, and my education at a historically Black college (I am a Spelman woman). But I am also here because of the “DEI” opportunity I participated in as a medical student. DEI will not solve all challenges that the future of health care faces, but it is certainly part of the solution. DEI is not dangerous. But the dismantling of it likely will be dangerous for our future.

This essay is cited in the KevinMD record on race and medicine.

Jacquelyne Gaddy is an oncologist.