By Matthew Winans, US Army Veteran
At college campuses nationwide, the newest students are starting class, but I’m not among them.
Many medical schools rejected my application, and when I asked why, several told me that my service in our nation’s armed forces didn’t matter, and that I should have spent more time proving my commitment to “diversity” and “equity.”
I served in the United States Army from 2012 to 2017. During my service, I intended to apply to the F. Edward Hébert School of Medicine, the military’s medical school, but health-related issues and a service-related disability cut my career short. After being honorably discharged, I set my sights on attending a civilian medical school to become a pathologist.
I never assumed I would be a shoo-in, nor do I believe veterans like me have some “right” to acceptance. Still, I thought my chances were strong because of my degrees in different fields, years of work history as a medical technologist in numerous hospitals, and other experiences.
Plus, I thought my veteran status could help, given medical schools’ universal preference for diversity. In the 2022-2023 school year, only 154 matriculants were military veterans out of 22,712 in total. If varied experiences and backgrounds are what medical schools want, I figured I had a lot to offer.
Turns out, the medical schools don’t agree.
Take my experience with the Morehouse School of Medicine, a historically black college in Atlanta.
I’m white, but it has a good reputation and is the closest medical school to my home. After my application was rejected, I requested reapplicant counseling, which helps you learn how to improve your chances in subsequent applications.
In May, an admissions counselor told me that my MCAT score wasn’t high enough, even though I scored in line with the average Morehouse matriculant. I couldn’t get an answer as to why that wasn’t good enough.
The counselor did tell me that I made a mistake by not discussing “equity” in my essay. Apparently, as a white man, I needed to show a special dedication to serving non-white patients.
The counselor also told me that my military service didn’t qualify as volunteering, even though we have an all-volunteer military. An associate dean of admissions at Georgia’s Mercer University School of Medicine said the same thing, disrespectfully equating my military service to a cashier’s job.
I found myself wondering: What kind of volunteering do medical schools want? I found the answer in my reapplicant counseling session for the University of Alabama’s Heersink School of Medicine.
Once again, the admissions counselor dismissed the idea that military service constitutes volunteering. Instead, she said, I needed to volunteer at a “free clinic in a barrio” or an “inner-city soup kitchen.”
When I asked why those kinds of volunteering were better, the counselor told me I needed to prove my “cultural competence.”
I can’t imagine a member of another race being told they have to demonstrate cultural competence.
In addition, it’s insulting to assume that volunteering is the best way to gain such competence. I served alongside a highly diverse group of soldiers, learning valuable lessons about different races, religions, and traditions. I’m also married to a Kenyan woman, have three biracial kids, and have traveled to East Africa many times.
What makes volunteering in a barrio or the inner city somehow superior to my numerous personal experiences?
The answer is the same reason the Morehouse counselor wanted me to mention “equity.” It proves your devotion to the diversity-industrial complex.
It’s possible I was beaten out by more qualified applicants at these and other schools. There’s always someone better than you in life.
However, after what I encountered at many medical schools, I’m not confident that the quality of my application was the deciding factor.
If I had overtly capitulated to the DEI worldview, I bet I’d be starting medical school this fall. (Ditto, if I was non-white.)
The Supreme Court may have banned affirmative action, but the medical advocacy group Do No Harm has shown that medical schools are finding numerous ways to make admissions decisions based on race. Since medical schools are openly disrespectful to the sacrifices of disabled veterans like me, what makes anyone think they won’t continue to unfairly and illegally elevate race?
I plan to apply to more medical schools this year, but I’m not optimistic about my chances. My ability to use the education benefits I earned through service to my country is controlled by race-obsessed administrators.
In today’s politicized world of “diversity” and “equity,” I fear there’s no room for a disabled white male who joined the Army to defend his country instead of padding his resume by going to the barrio or the inner city and then boasting about it.
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