My Journey as a Black Dietitian L AU R E N SWA N N MS, RD, LDN PAST NE CHAIR
My journey as a dietitian began in the fall of 1977 in a coordinated undergraduate program majoring in medical dietetics at the Historically Black College and University (HBCU) Howard University. I’d also applied to Penn State University but Howard offered me more in scholarship money and I’d wondered what it felt like to not be a minority. I’d been living in predominantly White middle-class suburban Philadelphia all of my 17 years, though until I was ten years old, it was in the country’s first intentionally integrated community, Concord Park, in Trevose, Bucks County. The reason why I cherished my Howard experience is summed up in a quote from an HBCU documentary when a student expressed that they “no longer felt self-conscious from being the only Black person in the room.” Until my HBCU experience, I’d grown so accustomed to a lifetime of being the “only Black person in the room” that I’d never considered what effect it might have had on me.
“THE DIETETIC TECHNICIANS ARE ALL BLACK.”
After graduating in 1981, I started my first clinical dietitian job at an urban teaching hospital back home. The chief dietitian was White, as was the entire staff, except for one Black non-credentialed dietitian, a Filipino dietitian, two Latino dietetic technicians, and now me. During the first-day orientation with two other new, White dietitians, the chief dietitian casually explained “working with the diet techs can be difficult because they’re all Black.” I later learned that her Black predecessor was fired by a new White dietitian foodservice director who was subsequently sued for discrimination, which is why I was recruited. They needed a Black RD fast; the other Black dietitian didn’t become RD-credentialed and they let her go as soon as I passed my exam.
“YOU SOUNDED DIFFERENT ON THE PHONE!”
With a Boston University Master of Science in nutrition communications on my resume, I’d arrive at advertising agencies and public relations firms to hear “You’re Lauren Swann?! But you sounded different on the phone!”
Years later after a promotion in a corporate atmosphere, I discovered I was earning $5,000 less than a White male in the same department with a comparable position who had five years less experience and didn’t have a master’s degree or professional certification. I complained and our boss responded by promoting him to justify my co-worker’s salary. That’s when I began seriously planning on starting my own business. I moved back home, working side jobs to keep money trickling in while I got my business going. While at a temp agency, in a secluded cubicle I overheard, “I think I can get you a White guy for the job. He sounds White.” I confronted the manager who reframed the conversation into complaints about Affirmative Action unfairness. Discussions once active on the Academy’s electronic mailing lists which prohibited political, religious or racial conversations - migrated to far less restricted social media platforms exposing blatant bigotry. A White dietitian I’d known for many years, complaining about how Affirmative Action unfairly takes jobs from qualified Whites (which is erroneous), wasn’t even aware that White women remain the single largest benefactor of Affirmative Action. Following a local consulting dietitian meeting, an RD exclaimed, “How can you be doing so well, and you’re BLACK! It’s hard enough being a woman but you’re BLACK. I don’t believe you’re doing as well as you say - I think you’re making things up.”
STILL “OUTSIDE” OF THE “GOOD OL’ GIRLS NETWORK”
I haven’t experienced my career as anything but a Black dietitian so I can’t compare. But solely because I’m Black, I’ve endured and in some odd way been expected to tolerate more - more rudeness, insults, offensive remarks and doubts of my qualifications. Very few of my major contracts have come from networking with dietitians; most of my client referrals have come from food industry professional networking. Many dietitians who enthusiastically
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