I am a woman in orthopedic surgery, the least gender-diverse medical specialty, with 7% of practicing orthopedic surgeons estimated to be women. With about 21,000 practicing orthopedic surgeons in this country, I am 1 of about 1500 women. This year, I am President of the Ruth Jackson Orthopedic Society, the nationally recognized women’s orthopedic society. My presidency is part of a five-year stint on the presidential line, culminating in 2025 when I finish my tenure as Immediate Past President. My goals for these five years have been: to introduce more women to our society earlier with a focus on empowering female medical students, to transform society to the next level via technology, communication and industry support, and to learn more about myself a leader in orthopedic surgery.
I do not have a medical pedigree or an ‘orthopedic pedigree’. I am the first in my family to attend college and the only one to attend medical school. Contrasted against my pediatric orthopedic partners: six of eight have physician fathers (4/6 of them are orthopedic surgeons!). Fast forward to my children’s future – my daughter and son have two physician parents, and their mom is an orthopedic surgeon. Wild.
I never considered myself disadvantaged. On the contrary, I had a wonderful childhood, attended excellent public schools in New York City, participated in varsity sports, and attended Georgetown University on a merit scholarship. When I tried to get into orthopedic surgery, though, I found myself struggling. Only in the last few years have I truly started to understand why, and following why I have begun to narrow my efforts to prevent others from struggling as I did.
The idea of women and underrepresented minorities entering the field evokes ugly sentiments of bigotry about work ethic and intelligence, which are often blasted on social media or spoken about behind closed doors on residency interviews.
I can handle a boys’ club – my entire life has always been me and the boys. I can hold my own – the misogyny, snide comments, and assumptions – I have thick skin and no problem giving back what I receive. Orthopedic surgery is more than a boys’ club, though; it is an elder white men’s club that is subconsciously fueled by itself a perpetual promotion of this implicit bias. This is an explicit and overt bias in many places in this country. The idea of women and underrepresented minorities entering the field evokes ugly sentiments of bigotry about work ethic and intelligence, which are often blasted on social media or spoken about behind closed doors on residency interviews.
So, even if I did not feel disadvantaged, even though I was not outright discriminated against, I was not the first choice for this orthopedic surgery boys club legacy. It is multifactorial and layered: lack of mentors, lack of research opportunities, lack of push/pull up the ladder, lack of advocacy, and lack of coaching. No one and everyone is to blame. I am a smart woman who excelled in STEM and displayed leadership characteristics early, and I struggled tremendously to get to where I am today. Getting into orthopedic surgery is hard, but it should not be that hard.
The struggle was real, as is the grit gained (I am actively working on the grace part). The struggle was also unnecessary, and I will do everything in my power to pave the path to orthopedic surgery for those who do not fit the typical ‘orthopedic mold’. My passion to promote this field to those historically underrepresented in medicine, especially in orthopedics, is a product of my past – and it is now a part of others’ futures.
Author: Christen Russo, MD FAAOS FAOA June 1, 2023
