From childhood, Dr. Chika Stacy Oriuwa dreamed of being a doctor. In 2016, that dream became a reality when she was accepted into the University of Toronto’s Temerty Faculty of Medicine. But the high of that acceptance came crashing down when she discovered that she was the only Black student in her incoming class of 259 students. The world of medicine was not immune to the systemic discrimination that permeates the fabric of our world. So, Chika decided to do something about it.
Chika channeled her disappointment into action, becoming a vocal advocate for improving disparities in Black health and confronting institutional discrimination. She was named one of TIME magazine’s “2021 Next Generational Leaders” and one of Maclean’s 2022 Power 50.
Today, Chika is a psychiatry resident at the University of Toronto and a nationally ranked spoken word poet. In her new book, Unlike the Rest, she shares her challenging personal journey to becoming a doctor and an advocate who had no choice but to step into the spotlight. It is a story of becoming, belonging, and being seen.
We recently sat down with Chika to chat about her memoir, her advocacy work, and how connection and poetry fueled her journey.
Unlike the Rest: From Doctor to Advocate
Speakers Spotlight: What challenges did you encounter along your advocacy journey, and what gave you the strength or courage to continue pushing forward with them?
Dr. Chika Stacy Oriuwa: The scariest element of my advocacy when I was in medical school was truly being seen. Putting yourself, your voice, your thoughts, political inclinations, values out there, it can be a terrifying thing. You never know how it’s going to be received especially in a bureaucratic institution.
The goal of medical school is to form you into a physician — they curate a certain kind of individual to operate within a certain role in society. They teach you how to think critically, but they configure your mind in a certain way — the way a doctor “should” think, act, do, etc. Everyone comes in with their individuality and authenticity and then we all emerge as a doctor, and there are certain constraints on how we have to show up.
In the early months of my medical degree, I had to make a decision to show up in a different way that wasn’t unprofessional, but it was different. It was championing authenticity in a space that wasn’t going to inherently reward that behaviour. So that was one of the biggest challenges — to own my blackness, to show up already feeling different and then highlight and spotlight that difference on a public platform.
Championing U of T’s Black Student Application Program was terrifying because it was, unfortunately, inherently controversial. Some saw it a necessary step, for others it incensed them. Many people told me it was the worst move of my career, that it would destroy any changes of me matching with a residency. In the book, I talk about how I originally declined the role. Afterwards. I couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning. It was an emotional experience, and that’s when I decided I couldn’t not speak up. And the rest is history.
SpSp: Is there a specific initiative or moment in your advocacy work that you’re most proud of?
CO: Learning at my graduation — where I was the only black student of my class and the first Black woman named sole valedictorian of the department — that U of T admitted the largest group of Black medical students in Canadian history at that time. That was in part due to the efforts of the Black Student Application Program and I’m part of that legacy. Having that small bit of history, knowing all the risks and fears that led to that monumental moment is something I look back on with pride.
I’ve had Black medical students tell me they saw my story, read my articles, watched my poetry, and were encouraged by my journey. Those moments of connection with people that I had never met before but had such an indelible mark on, has reciprocally impacted me, and I’m so honoured to be that role model and to be that source of inspiration.
Prioritizing Mental Health in a Multi-Faceted Life
Speakers Spotlight: It must have been difficult balancing the demands of medical school alongside the demands of being a very public advocate. How did you manage your mental health and well-being throughout the pressures of your academic, clinical, and advocacy responsibilities?
CO: In my book, I talk about the challenge of balancing a multi-faceted life. When I was in medical school, I was concurrently working on my masters while also being thrust into the spotlight through my advocacy and being a public speaker. There were so many things on my plate on top of having to deal with being in the public eye, which brought both praise and vitriol.
What saved me was consistent connection. I was consistently tapped into my network of support. I had my therapist who I saw once a week and an amazing family doctor who helped me navigate my personal health. My eating disorder first came to light in undergrad. In the book, I talk about what it was like to confront disordered eating during a turbulent time, and having an incredible family doctor to help me navigate that was life changing and life preserving. Plus, I have the best mom in the world. She was my biggest cheerleader, my fiercest protector, and I credit my strength to her.
My mom role modelled how to be a multi-faceted powerhouse. So, when it was my time to show up in superhero fashion, it wasn’t hard to lean into an inherent train. I met my husband in my second year of medical school, and he was an incredible ally, friend, and boyfriend; and I had wonderful allies at U of T, and an incredible group of friends and mentors, they know how wonderful they are. This book is a love letter to this group of people who kept me alive, sane, and well.
I don’t pretend to be an extraordinary human. I know when to lean into my network and that’s what makes it work. I am vulnerable enough to know that I can’t do it all and am willing to ask for help when I need it.
Finding Strength in Poetry
SpSp: You give a lot of credit to poetry in helping you through this incredible journey. How did creative expression help you cope?
CO: Poetry for me is as natural as breathing. I started writing as a child and it took me years to realize what I was writing was poetry. That was how my mind worked, how I perceived, analyzed, and understood the world, my mind, my body, my experiences.
When I went to medical school, at times it felt at odds with my creative mind. I felt I needed to be deeply analytical and pragmatic. There was no space for artistry or creativity. I felt like I was living a siloed life until I realized poetry was a means to digest experiences at med school — personal and academic challenges. Being able to use poetry as a means of advocacy, showing up for myself, talking about heavy difficult content, it was transcendent. It was a way to invite others into my experience who otherwise I would have had a difficult time explaining what it was to be black, to be a black woman, at this time.
It also made me a better doctor because I came to understand who I was and my place in medicine so much more strongly when I leaned into my authenticity as a poet. When I could truly critically analyze what was going on my life through poetry, I could show up confidently as a physician. My creative mind, strengthened my critical thinking and strengthened my analytical mind in turn. That’s what’s so beautiful about poetry or any creative expression.
Looking Ahead: Building an Equitable Healthcare System
SpSp: Reflecting back on your first day at school to today, have you noticed any positive changes in addressing systemic racism in health care? What do you believe are the most urgent changes that still need to happen?
CO: Today we’re seeing more medical schools creating programs similar to U of T’s Black Student Application Program or strengthening their existing programs to support racialized or historically underrepresented groups in medicine. That will have significant effects on the public health of our population. It will change our culture and education milieu so that everyone benefits from the richness of diversity of thought.
While there has been a lot of change, there is still a lot of work to do. The pandemic highlighted a lot of the work that still has to be done, not just from a disease perspective, but also disparities in mental health.
Progress is an ever present journey. I can speak more intimately to what I perceive as a dire state of mental health within the black community and within communities of colour. Access to mental health services is not equal and there is so much stigma within those communities that is a consequence of systemic discrimination and cultural overlays. Being of Nigerian descent and a resident in psychiatry, these are large issues, near and dear to my heart.
Hire Dr. Chika Stacy Oriuwa to Speak at Your Event
An accomplished physician, nationally ranked spoken word poet, and thought leader, Dr. Chika Stacy Oriuwa is a multi-faceted powerhouse whose journey exemplifies authentic leadership in every aspect.
Through powerful storytelling and compelling narrative, Chika draws from her diverse experiences — across sectors, stages, and disciplines — to share meaningful and actionable insights on leadership, connection, and wellness. She shares science-backed strategies and tools to unlock our true potential for transformative results in our organizations, communities, and lives.
Contact us to learn more about Chika and to book her for your next event.
