The Stigma of Being a Caribbean Medical Student

Author: Jessica Rebaza

Keywords: medical student, medical education, diversity, inclusion, international medical graduate

The stigma of being a Caribbean medical student can be crippling in many ways. It is so intense that I even fed into it when I was a pre-med student. I used to believe that going to medical school in the Caribbean was for undisciplined students who didn’t work hard enough; for students who didn’t have what it took to make it. It wasn’t until I became a Caribbean medical student that I realized that the stigma was based on fear, doubt and lack of knowledge.

My story of becoming a medical student is non-traditional in many ways yet extraordinarily common in Caribbean medical schools. As a first-generation future doctor, I entered college naively. I didn’t know much about what it took to become a physician aside from what I saw on TV. I knew I had to take science classes and the MCAT and submit my application. I figured that couldn’t be too hard until I entered chemistry class and struggled immensely. While I did decently in physics and biology, my chemistry classes held me back. I took the MCAT and struggled to score well. I attempted the exam multiple times until I was finally at a national average. Aside from that, my CV from college was packed to the rim- Latinx ambassador for the University of Georgia; president and founder of a medical association in college, participated in medical brigades, Spanish translator, shadowed many physicians and did multiple hospital volunteer visits. After I graduated from college, I applied to medical school and was rejected without even a chance to interview. I was dedicated to becoming a physician and worked on my application flaws. I retook the undergraduate chemistry classes that held me back and started my masters degree at Columbia University. I also worked full-time as a nutritionist for two years and interned at the NYC Department of Health and Mental Hygiene. I reapplied to medical school and was able to secure one interview. Once again, I got rejected. I had spent nine years trying to get into medical school by this point. My entire academic and professional career was geared towards one goal, and I had failed to meet it. I was at a complete loss in life until I turned to my last resource- going to medical school abroad.

Even as I applied, interviewed, and attended orientation, my mind was flooded with the thought of the stigma of attending a Caribbean medical school. In my head, I thought of comments that were said to me such as “if you’re as good as you say you are, why aren’t you in an American school?”; “you’re going to fail out”;“you’ll never match into residency”. However, as I got to know my classmates, I realized that we were all far from failures. Almost every student I met in my first-year class had attended some of the best universities in the United States, including UCLA, UMiami, UMinnesota, UFlorida, UPenn, UC-Berkeley, Georgetown, Ohio State University, Rutgers, Michigan State, UConn, and Cornell. Most of them also had masters degrees in biochemistry, medical sciences, or public health. Unfortunately, these students were part of the 50-60% of pre-med students who are not accepted to an American medical school each year. Students, just like me, who worked extremely hard but were overlooked.

Currently, I’m in my second year of medical school and will soon be done with all my preclinical classes. This summer, I will be eligible to sit for the USMLE and I’ll begin third-year rotations in the fall. Before I know it, I’ll be sending in my application for residency. In the end, attending a Caribbean medical school has allowed me to open a door that had been closed for a very long time. Given everything I’ve been through in the last eleven years, there shouldn’t be any shame nor stigma around the fact that I did everything in my power to one day become a physician. From my first day of college to now, I have grown into a professional that doesn’t buckle when faced with rejection or failure. If younger me could see me now, she’d be proud of the woman I’ve become and she’d thank me for never giving up.

About the Author: Jessica Rebaza, M.S., is a medical student, digital creator for The Medical Edit YouTube channel and podcast, and social media advisor for Women In Medicine. She is passionate about raising awareness about student mental health and advocating for the Latinx community. (Twitter: @themedicaledit)