The first time someone told me that I would get into college — guaranteed — was when I was a freshman in high school. Normally, that is something encouraging to hear, except this was not in response to my academics or extracurriculars: It was because of my background.

It came up pretty suddenly. Some upperclassmen and I were just talking about our families, and somehow, we got to the undeniable privilege I have in the college application sphere. I am Indigenous and Latina; in their eyes, it would be impossible for me to get rejected from anywhere I applied to. It bothered me a lot when I heard that, and unfortunately, it was not the last time.

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As a senior applying to colleges, I had my peers tell me how they were jealous of my identities and how they wished they, too, could be a part of “disadvantaged” groups. They thought I would not face a single rejection; I would get into better schools despite not being “that smart.” Diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives and programs like affirmative action would carry me anywhere and everywhere I wanted.

But that didn’t happen. Just like everyone else, I struggled in applying and cried over rejections. And as much as they’d like to tell themselves it was because of my identity, I know I was a competitive applicant who deserved the acceptances I got.

As much as some people want to believe that DEI is this new, scary idea, it has been around for more than 60 years, stemming from the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s. Then, DEI programs were intended to increase interracial tolerance and diversity in the workplace, schools and other social settings, and today we follow the same principles. 

For example, higher education in the United States has historically been built for white men, and even when open to others, the demographics of students and graduates changed little. DEI programs like affirmative action were made to make these opportunities more accessible for women and Black, Indigenous and people of color, and they were quite successful in doing so.

As many of us know, though, affirmative action for colleges and universities was struck down by a recent Supreme Court decision in June, with opponents citing that it was discriminatory to white and Asian applicants. This decision was infuriating to me, but even more so is the thought that this could happen again.

In what I suspect to be an attempt to use the momentum of this decision, two Republican senators have introduced a bill to cut federal funding to any medical school that has DEI initiatives, dubbed the Embracing anti-Discrimination, Unbiased Curricula, and Advancing Truth in Education Act. The bill from Sen. John Kennedy of Louisiana and Sen. Eric Schmitt of Missouri has 35 cosponsors, and large organizations like the Association of American Medical Colleges have drawn attention to the bill out of concern. It is clear that this is not something to ignore or assume to be benign. 

As upsetting as the Supreme Court’s decision was, removing DEI from medicine can have deadly consequences. Contrary to opposing beliefs, DEI does not make the medical field more dangerous by rejecting “better” applicants in the name of diversity. Research studies have demonstrated increased diversity in healthcare workplaces lead to better patient outcomes and that patients, especially those from underrepresented backgrounds, have better experiences when treated by healthcare professionals of the same background as them. 

We cannot have diverse healthcare workplaces without diverse healthcare professional schools like medical schools, something DEI provides for. Removing these programs from medical schools will move us back and result in poorer outcomes in the healthcare system.

In support of the bill he co-introduced, Schmitt stated in a press release, “The medical field has traditionally been one driven by core tenants [sic] of merit, academic excellence, and superb scientific achievement.” 

To that, I have to say the medical field has traditionally been discriminatory, exploitative and exclusionary. DEI allows medical students to practice cross-cultural communication and become more aware of the reality of receiving care in our society. If you are not culturally competent, your academics do not matter: In the end, you will be a bad doctor.

DEI is needed in medicine. It’s needed in higher education, in workplaces and in communities. Although it is difficult to admit to your privilege and that there may be people more qualified than you once those barriers are removed, it is something that must be done for the benefit of our society as a whole. If we want to continue making progress against injustices, we need to come together to fight for and protect our DEI programs.