A Dream Filled with Challenges: The Lonely Road to Becoming a Black Veterinary Specialist

by Lillie Davis DVM, DACVIM (Oncology)

Editor’s note: This article is part of a short series called “Journeys,” about the experiences of individuals from diverse backgrounds in the veterinary world.

I have always wondered if my success is largely luck or a case of nature versus nurture. I was born in Staten Island, New York, as the third child to a single mother who was trying to find her way in the world. I was more than unexpected to my mom in many ways, as my biological father was 19 when I was born (I have never met him) and she already had two children whose father was no longer around. It took the encouragement of my grandmother (whom I get my namesake from) for my mother to not terminate the pregnancy, and I am beyond thankful every day that my grandmother quite literally saved my life.

When I was three, my mom moved me, my older brother, and my older sister out of the shelter into our first home in the Bronx, New York. It was there, in project housing of the Bronx, where I would develop into a curious child and then into a determined teenager with the help of amazing mentors in elementary school through high school.

I grew up among what others would conceive of as chaos: my mother was a victim of severe mental and physical abuse, and I grew up around a family plagued with drug addictions. The neighborhood I lived in was not the safest, and often, I saw my family mourn the passing of yet another family friend taken too soon because of senseless violence.

All the while, I busied myself with as many books as I could check out of the library (seriously, I checked out the maximum limit each time) and was consumed with learning about the world outside of the ghetto. I knew that I was destined to evolve from that toxic environment and change the world. My grandmother Lillie would often tell my mother, who would often tell me, that I was special and guaranteed success. It was because of this that I felt it was my duty to make it so my grandmother was right.

That led me to applying to college and getting into my dream school, Cornell University. It was my mission to attend Cornell for my undergraduate degree so that I could get into Cornell’s prestigious College of Veterinary Medicine and fulfill my dream of becoming a veterinarian. I then became the first person in my immediate family not only to graduate from an Ivy League college but to become a doctor.

My desire to become a veterinarian started with my love of animals and science. I grew up with pets. I had a few cats during my childhood and instantly found them to be the most relatable species (no offense to dogs, whom I love dearly). I fell in love with and excelled in science starting in grade school. This then led to me initially wanting to be a human doctor, until I learned about the veterinary profession. My interest in veterinary medicine started when I volunteered at the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals as a teenager. Once I realized I could combine my love of science and animals all together, I felt it in my soul that my life’s calling was clear.

Breaking New Ground

It has been very challenging to be a minority in this profession. I remember my first day of veterinary school at Cornell, my realization on orientation day that I was the only Black person in my entire class. I was very disappointed when I realized I didn’t have at least one other person who looked like me. I thankfully had other fellow Black veterinary students in the classes before me to befriend. I found ways to feel more included and help bring awareness to the lack of diversity in this profession by becoming a member of Veterinary Students as One in Culture and Ethnicity (V.O.I.C.E) during my first year of veterinary school. I then went on to become the president of the Cornell chapter of V.O.I.C.E and the national communications co-chair from 2011 to 2012. My participation in this organization gave me a sense of belonging and safety that I didn’t realize would be lacking in the profession at large.

The feeling of being aware that there are few Black veterinarians in this professional space is ever-present. I often find myself pointedly scanning the crowd when I first arrive at national veterinary conferences, hoping to find just one other Black veterinary specialist to connect with, only to be disappointed when I see few to none. It is an uncomfortable feeling being present at these conferences and realizing that the majority of Black people in these conference venues are the help.

It is a lonely experience being the only Black veterinarian, and sometimes the only person of color, in my workspace. This past year in particular has been extremely difficult. The level of loneliness I have felt at my workplace during the height of the Black Lives Matter protests this past summer, the Capitol riots, and the 2020 election is indescribable.

It is difficult to not have other veterinarians who look like me in my shared workspace to discuss my lived experience as a Black veterinary specialist or to talk through and help me process the microaggressions that I experience on a regular basis. Instead, I am left to internally combat these situations alone.

For example, when I went to greet a client outside for the first time during COVID (we are currently practicing veterinary medicine curbside), I was met with a surprised “oh” when I introduced myself as the Dr. Davis they’ve been allowing to treat their pet with cancer. I’m left to question: Was that reaction because of my skin color or because I look young for my age? It also comes with the realization that my White colleagues will never have to question such an encounter in the same way. I have also feared for my safety when a White client who may be a racist gets upset at me because their pet is dying, and I am told it is my fault and I’m only in this for the money. It’s isolating situations like these that make being Black in the veterinary profession almost too much to bear.

Battling “Imposter Syndrome”

I have recently come to terms with the fact that while my perfectionist tendencies are a part of my DNA makeup, it is also likely that part of these “type-A-isms” also stem from me feeling as if I need to prove myself worthy of being in this very White profession. Deep down inside, I have always felt like I have something to prove as the only Black veterinary oncologist I know.

There has been this tiny voice in the back of my subconscious that insists that I need to show my White peers that I did not get to where I am because I’m the “token” Black veterinarian. I realized that I don’t often share my origin story of poverty and breaking generational cycles with my White peers because I don’t want to be seen as a charity case. Becoming aware of this inner voice and these feelings was initially very painful, but it was also very eye-opening as a catalyst for my self-discovery. I know that these are insecurities that stem from the lack of diversity in this profession and the overall oppression of Black people in the United States. I also know that most of my peers who love and support me do not for one second think these thoughts (as I have been told as much).

What helps me cope with these complex feelings of racial disparity and discrimination in veterinary medicine and overall are my wonderful support systems in the family (friends is too casual of a word) I have made within this profession. The relationships I have made and mentorship I have experienced, no matter the race or culture, has been extremely instrumental in my personal success. But I especially appreciate those White friends of mine who are allies, and I always encourage them to please keep speaking up for us Black veterinarians. Our voices are not loud enough to enact change alone.

The Road Ahead

I’ll be honest, the veterinary profession has a long way to go as far as improving diversity, equity, and inclusion. It is very disappointing to know that approximately 2% of the US veterinary workforce is made up of Black veterinarians (US Bureau of Labor Statistics 2017).

I think real change starts with giving Black veterinarians a platform to tell our story and to be seen by young Black people who may not know that this profession is an option. Again, I think the real work is on the shoulders of our White allies in this profession, as there are not enough Black veterinarians to make a difference on our own.

Also, speaking as a Black veterinarian who was raised in poverty, this profession may not be a viable option for those who cannot afford to take on thousands of dollars in student loan debt. Education for veterinary personnel needs to be more affordable overall before this career path can become more accessible to minorities. I am hopeful that as long as we continue to discuss racial disparity in the veterinary industry and continue to take actionable steps to create an inclusive profession, within the next 20 years this profession will include more faces like mine.

Lillie Davis, DVM, DACVIM (Oncology), is a board-certified medical oncology specialist and a native of the Bronx, New York. She earned her undergraduate degree at Cornell University in 2009 and her veterinary medicine degree at Cornell University in 2014. She completed a one-year small-animal rotating internship at Purdue University in 2015 and returned to Cornell University to complete a three-year residency in medical oncology in 2018. She became board certified by the American College of Veterinary Internal Medicine (Oncology) in 2018.

 

Photo credits: Photos courtesy of Anna Blom, CVT