In The News 

On this day in 1983, Alice Walker became the first Black woman to win the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction for The Color Purple.  A groundbreaking moment that redefined who gets recognized in literature.  Its legacy continues to empower generations to reclaim their voices.

From Louisiana to every corner of the U.S., the NAACP is on the frontlines, fighting to protect the right to vote.   21 million Americans — nearly 1 in 10 voters — don’t have easy access to the documents this law, and those like it, would demand.  We should be expanding voting access, not making it harder to vote.  

Want to join the fight? Visit http://naacp.org/vote to check your voter registration status and find ways to flex your voting power. https://naacp.org/articles/naacp-pro-voter-groups-move-protect-louisiana-voting-rights

Today marks the start of Black Maternal Health Week. We center the voices and experiences of Black mamas to address the systemic failures that lead to disparate health outcomes. Reproductive justice is a human right.

Black women are often dismissed when reporting pain or symptoms during pregnancy and postpartum. Clinical bias isn't just a hurdle; it’s a life-threatening barrier. We advocate for a healthcare system that believes and respects Black women.

Continuity of care saves lives. Community-based doulas and midwives are essential in providing culturally congruent support and advocacy for Black birthing people. Let's invest in the models of care that work.

As hashtag#BMHW26 ends, our advocacy doesn't. We continue to push for the Black Maternal Health Momnibus Act—comprehensive legislation to end the maternal mortality crisis in America. Policy is the path to progress. hashtag#Momnibus hashtag#HealthEquity hashtag#BMHW26 hashtag#BlackMaternalHealth hashtag#TrustBlackWomen hashtag#BirthEquity hashtag#DoulasMatter hashtag#MidwiferyCare hashtag#TrustBlackWomen hashtag#BirthEquity

Dr. Camara Phyllis Jones is a Core Four Shero in Healthcare. She draws parallels between racism and health outcomes, showing how systemic inequities shape who gets access to care and who thrives.

Dr. Patrice A. Harris stands as a Shero in healthcare and a powerful voice for health equity. As the first Black woman to lead the American Medical Association, she turned history into action and used her platform to fight for communities too often left out of the conversation.

I had just consented the patient. The anesthesiologist looked around and asked, "Who's the surgeon?"

I'm standing at the bedside. In scrubs. At a hospital I've operated in for almost 10 years.

I just finished consenting the patient. Explained the procedure. Answered questions. Shook hands.

The anesthesiologist looks around the room. "Who's the surgeon?"

I'm right here. Literally right here.

"I am. Dr. Bilbrew."

He pauses. Looks me up and down.

"Geez. I thought you were the family member." Apologetically he scratches his head

Ten years. Same hospital. Same scrubs. Same credentials on the wall. And I'm still being mistaken for a visitor at my own patient's bedside.

I didn't say what I wanted to say.

Didn't ask if he'd ever confused a male surgeon for a family member. Didn't point out that I'd just consented the patient he was about to sedate. Didn't let the sharp thing forming in my throat actually leave my mouth.

Because here's what nobody tells you about moments like this:

The energy it takes to correct them is energy stolen from the patient. The sharpness I swallow is sharpness I can't afford in the OR. The dignity I protect isn't just mine—it's the procedure's.

So I smiled. Confirmed my identity. Moved on.

I didn't carry it into the operating room. I added it to the laundry list.

The list of miscalculations people have made based on my appearance. My gender. My race. My hair. The assumptions that arrive before I do.

I collect them. Not as wounds. As reminders.

Reminders of the position I hold. The power I have to shift paradigms. The responsibility to make sure the next Black woman surgeon doesn't have to answer the same question.

The dignity in that moment isn't the curt response I held back. It's being exactly who I am—calm, competent, undeniable. It's rewriting what "surgeon" looks like in that room.

Ten years. Same scrubs. Still introducing myself.

But every time I do, I'm changing what they expect to see next time.

Beyond The Clinic.

Honoring Septima Poinsette Clark as one of our Core Four SHEROS for her transformative impact on EDUCATION in her community. She co-founded and directed the Citizenship Schools, training more than 10,000 African Americans in literacy and voter registration and contributing to the registration of over 700,000 Black voters across the South. As Director of Education for the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, she built a network of community teachers and leaders, embedding political education into the Civil Rights Movement and turning classrooms into centers of organized resistance. hashtag#WomensHistoryMonth

Honoring Gloria Ladson-Billings as one of our Core Four Sheroes in Education. Her work on culturally relevant pedagogy continues to inspire educators to teach in ways that affirm students’ identities and expand what is possible in the classroom. 📚💜

Maternal mortality dropped 77% in 13 years.

No new hospitals. No specialists imported.

Rwanda held an election instead.

-----

In 1994, Rwanda emerged from genocide

with almost no institutions standing.

⭕ No hospitals in most villages.

⭕ No specialists.

⭕ No infrastructure.

⭕ Almost no money.

And a maternal mortality crisis

that demanded an answer.

🔵 So they asked a question:

Who does this mother already trust?

And can we build around that?

The result: community health workers.

Launched 1995.

Not assigned by a ministry.

Not credentialed by a licensing board.

🟢 Elected by neighbors.

🟢 Community members literally lining up

      in front of the person they trusted most.

🟢 One maternal health worker per village.

Every pregnant woman, identified.

Every new mother, followed.

By someone who already knew her name.

The intervention wasn't clinical:

It was relational.

✅ Continuity of relationship is an intervention.

✅ Geographic accountability is an intervention.

✅ Removing the mother's burden of navigating the system is an intervention.

      All of them required a design decision.

✅ Rwanda's trajectory:

2000: 1,020 per 100,000 live births

2013: 320 per 100,000 live births

2020: 259 per 100,000 live births

Now run that math everywhere else.

🍃 A 77% reduction from 2023 figures:

US: 18.6 → 4.3

Ghana: 234 → 53.8

Nigeria: 1,047 → 241

The US rate for Black women: 50.3

A 77% reduction: 11.6

Lower than the overall US rate today.

When Rwanda's numbers began to plateau, they didn't abandon the model.

They added to it.

Phase 1: design around who is already there.

Phase 2: build specialist capacity on top of that foundation.

Most systems try to start with Phase 2.

Rwanda started with Phase 1.

The foundation held.

The specialists had something to build on.

♻️ What phase is your system in?

Share with someone in maternal care.

If you're working in maternal care,

or have a maternal care story,

this newsletter is for you- real stories from real women:

https://lnkd.in/eZRyh4iP