Ndidiamaka Amutah-Onukagha, Ph.D, MPH founded the Center for Black Maternal Health and Reproductive Justice at Tufts University School of Medicine. The center trains new scholars, partners with communities to improve Black maternal health and conducts research. Amutah-Onukagha believes eliminating maternal health inequities takes a “multifaceted perspective that brings out the best in academia, policy, community involvement and workforce development.” Personal experience ignites her passion to help people navigate a “heath care system that does not prioritize Black and brown birthing people.”
Q. What drives you to invest so much time in training new Black maternal health scholars?
There's so much work to be done, particularly in an academic space. I'd be remiss if I didn't act on the need to harness so much amazing talent to shape the next generation of scholars. Whether it's an undergrad or a Ph.D student who wants to interview me for her dissertation, I create those spaces because I understand why people are on fire for this issue. It will set you on fire if you're a human being who cares about other people. I have mentees all over the country, from high school to residency, who are interested in this area, and it's my job to continue to water those seeds of optimism. There's no reason we should have the maternal mortality rates we do; it’s unconscionable in a country with the resources, the technology and the opportunities we have. I want to cultivate a community of scholars, especially scholars of color, who can work collectively to address this.
Q. One of your major research projects (with the Interdisciplinary Research Leaders program) is exploring how growing awareness of the maternal health crisis influences women of color's perceptions about their risks. How are you approaching that research and what are you finding?
We’re conducting surveys, interviews and focus groups among Black women of reproductive age and their partners. We’re also talking to health care providers such as doulas and doctors about opportunities to address those risks. We’ve found few studies that incorporate the insights of Black women as well as providers.
We’re still collecting data, but we’re hearing from birthing people that they want the best just like every birthing person wants. But many are petrified to deliver in hospital settings. They are quite aware of the headlines. They are watching the news. They are seeing their loved ones experience complications and sometimes die in a system that is not designed for and by communities of color.
There are amazing clinicians and providers, and a tremendous upswell of programs that are really promising. I want to make sure our solutions to this growing maternal health crisis take into account the opinions of the people we are trying to save.
Q. How do your own experiences, as a Black mother, a scholar and so much more, inform your work?
First, I started down this career path after I experienced the preventable maternal deaths of two dear friends. After those losses, I knew it would be critical for me to be a voice.
Next, all of these roles overlap. I am a mother. I am a Black person. I am a postpartum person. I am a researcher, a scholar, a policy advisor. I can be on a call with the senator's office, or I can be asked to look at legislation that's about to get enacted. I can be asked to speak at a high school to young Black girls about careers in maternal health. I have a lot of degrees. I have a lot of power. I run things. But guess what? I'm also a Black person navigating health care myself. When I'm walking into a hospital, those accolades, those titles, don't help me. What's going to help me is being able to navigate a health care system that sees me as a human being, that prioritizes my needs, that listens when I say I'm in pain. So, I look at my kids, I have two beautiful boys, and what guides my work is this: how can the work I'm doing make their lives better when and if they choose to start a family? That's my mission.