Q&A: Black Maternal Health professional Dr. Ndidiamaka Amutah Onukagha

let's talk about black dads

Hello, and welcome to yet another edition of The Black Cat.

To read what you missed this week in Good Black News, click here. Otherwise, this week, we have a Q&A with Dr. Ndidiamaka Amutah Onukagha, a professor of Black Maternal Health at Tufts University School of Medicine.

She has a long resume, but I will try to note some highlights: She founded and directs the Center of Black Maternal Health and Reproductive Justice, as well as the Maternal Outcomes of Translational Health Equity Research. She also created the nation’s largest conference regarding Black maternal health. In her spare time, of course, she is the inaugural Assistant Dean of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion for Tufts’ Public Health and Professional Degree programs.

She’s award-winning, published, the definition of Black Excellence, and here to talk to us about the latest Black maternal health conference, which was last week, and why it decided to focus on the role of fatherhood this time.

Courtesy of Dr. Ndidiamaka Amutah-Onukagha

Feel free to send around, email me your reflections, and follow me on Instagram at dominicmadori

This month, I’m reading: A Grain of Wheat by Ngugi Wa Thiong'o and The Kill by Emilé Zola

This weekend, I can’t stop listening to: The Greatest Love of All by George Benson

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The U.S. is medically one of the most dangerous countries for Black women. The endless discrimination from doctors and other health professionals is staggering, and everything from where Black children grow up to the type of food they have access to all stems back to the racist roots of the country.

Within all of this, much attention is now being paid to how unnecessarily risky it is for Black women to give birth in this country. As many already know, Black women are much more likely to die while giving birth than nearly any other racial group.

For these reasons, I was excited to chat with Dr. Ndidiamaka Amutah Onukaghaa about her award-winning work around Black maternal health and other topics related to the Black medical experience. Below, we chat about what progress has been made for Black patients dealing with doctors, and how she anticipates the DEI pushback impacting her work.

The Black Cat: Thank you so much for chatting with me today. Let’s dive into the conversation. You throw an annual event about Black maternal health, and this year, you decided to focus on the role of fatherhood. Why?

Thanks so much for having me. Our focus on the role of fathers in addressing maternal health inequities is a perspective that hasn’t been highlighted in this way before, which made it especially compelling. This was a long-overdue conversation, acknowledging a critical yet often overlooked piece of the maternal health puzzle.

We know that when fathers are actively engaged, maternal and infant outcomes improve. This conference gave them, in many cases for the first time, a seat at the table, and their voices proved essential.

Our lineup included powerful speakers like Charles Johnson of 4Kira4Moms, who continues to advocate for policy change after the heartbreaking loss of his wife Kira, and Omari Maynard, an activist and artist featured in the Hulu film Aftershock, who honors the life and legacy of his partner, Shamony.

We also welcomed clinicians, researchers, legislators, and community partners who expanded the dialogue around pivotal data, fatherhood, grief, advocacy, and systemic change. Their collective insights created a rich conversation that challenged the narrative and redefined what inclusive maternal health work looks like.

Fathers are not just bystanders, they are advocates, protectors, and essential partners in the fight for birth equity.

TBC: For so long, there was always that stereotype that Black dads are never around, but I feel like I have seen an increase in pushback against that, with research showing that stereotype to not necessarily be true, especially when compared to white families, Black dads are actually more around than white fathers are for their kids. How have you seen the absent Black dad stereotype change over the past decades, and has that had any impact on the way Black mothers are treated?

I’m so glad you asked this question because the stereotype of the absent Black father is not only inaccurate, it’s harmful. While Black fathers are statistically more likely to live apart from their children compared to White and Hispanic fathers, research consistently shows they are often more involved in their children's lives than fathers of other races.

The Fragile Families and Child Wellbeing Study found that Black nonresident fathers were significantly more likely to engage with their children, share parenting responsibilities, and co-parent more effectively than their peers.

Black fathers are active, present, and essential to their families. It’s time we rewrite that narrative. I’m inspired by the growing visibility of groups like The Dad Gang, Dads to Doulas, and The Library Dads, who are challenging these harmful myths and uplifting positive images of Black fatherhood.

At the conference, we were especially honored to have Dr. Brandon Frame, founder of The Black Man Can and host of the Men’s Den Podcast, moderate our “Bro Chat” session. Hearing Black fathers speak candidly about fatherhood, accountability, and their role in birth equity was powerful. I'm so proud we were able to hold space for that conversation; it’s long overdue.

TBC: Has there been much improvement in lowering Black maternal health, or has much of the advancement been in research?

That’s such an important question and honestly, it’s a bit of both. The U.S. is still one of the most dangerous places in the developed world to give birth. The most recent numbers from 2022 show about 22.3 maternal deaths per 100,000 live births. That’s a drop from the peak during the pandemic, but let’s be clear, even one preventable death is too many, especially in a country with our resources.

Where we have seen movement is in tackling the structural barriers that fuel this crisis. There’s been a lot of focus on expanding access to community-based care, things like doulas, midwives, and birthing centers. We’re also finally starting to prioritize real-time data collection so we can understand what’s happening and respond faster.

One thing I’m proud of is the role our Center played in passing the Massachusetts Maternal Health Momnibus (H.4999) last year. It’s one of the most comprehensive maternal health laws in the country. It created pathways for midwife licensure, improved reimbursement models, expanded mental health support, and updated birth center regulations. It’s a big step and it could serve as a national model for how to do this right.

So yes, research has been key, but we’re also seeing real, policy-level changes that can save lives. And that’s the kind of impact we need more of.

TBC: We’ve all heard about the way doctors are trained, how some of them are told that Black people don’t feel pain, or how different we are from our white counterparts. In medical school, are these stereotypes still taught widely, or has there been some course correction?

It’s honestly shocking how deeply rooted and how casually passed down some of these harmful beliefs still are. We’re still seeing pervasive stereotypes show up in clinical training and practice every day. Things like “Black women don’t feel pain,” or “Black people have thicker skin,” or “all Black women have heart conditions or diabetes.” These myths are not only false, they’re dangerous. And they’re being repeated as if they’re medical facts.

We can’t have this conversation without acknowledging the historical foundation of obstetrics and gynecology in this country. Dr. J. Marion Sims, long hailed as the “father of gynecology”. He built his reputation by performing repeated, non-consensual surgeries on enslaved Black women without anesthesia. We know the names of three: Anarcha, Lucy, and Betsey. That legacy of exploitation and disregard still reverberates in modern maternal care today, where Black women and birthing people are often neglected, dismissed, and criminalized for their reproductive decisions.

There has been progress, yes, but not nearly enough. True course correction means investing in culturally competent, community-informed care. It means integrating doulas, midwives, and non-clinical birth workers who are trusted and often better positioned to support birthing people. It means rethinking where and how people give birth and ensuring respectful, patient-centered care at every step.

For medical professionals, this also means taking real responsibility: actively unlearning bias, holding peers accountable, and being willing to name racism when they see it. Public reporting and regulatory oversight of clinicians and hospital systems are essential if we want real accountability. This work isn’t optional, it’s necessary if we want to see lasting, meaningful change.

TBC: I totally wanted to ask about what the vibe is like on campus. You hold a DEI position at a pretty prestigious university during a time when DEI is under legal and political attack, both from conservatives and the actual government. What is life like for you right now on campus and as an educator?

It’s a tense time, no doubt. I work on the medical school campus, which has a different energy from undergrad. I am very grateful for the continued support from the university and my colleagues.

TBC: How are you preparing yourself for this anti-DEI backlash, and where do you see this all going?

I’m preparing by staying focused and grounded in the work. The backlash is real, but it’s not new. As someone working at the intersection of Black maternal health, policy, and academic research, I’ve always known this work would face resistance. What’s happening now is just a more public version of what many of us have been navigating for years.

At our Center, we’re doubling down on strategy, building sustainability beyond federal dollars, strengthening our partnerships, and pushing for policy change at the local and state levels. We’re also investing in the next generation through pipeline programs that recruit and support a diverse maternal health workforce.

Where is it going? I believe this moment is forcing people and institutions who are truly committed to equity to find creative ways to push forward. The work won’t stop because we won’t stop.

TBC: There seem to be many changes happening at the federal level regarding funding to programs that presumably help so-called DEI. What impact will that — combined with the disregard the Trump administration is showing for long-standing medical institutions, like the CDC — have on Black maternal health research, and how have you thought about navigating these possible changes?

These shifts at the federal level have created a volatile environment for public health research, particularly for work rooted in equity.

For Black maternal health, the implications are profound. We rely on robust, real-time data, trusted infrastructure, and intentional investment to understand and address the drivers of disparities. When those foundations are weakened, it’s not just research that suffers, it’s lives.

Ultimately, this moment is forcing us to be bolder, more strategic, and more collaborative than ever before. The stakes are too high to do anything less.

TBC: Maybe should have started with this, but I would love to know about your background and what led you not only to medicine but to this focus area in particular.

Of course. My path to this work began with the heartbreaking loss of a childhood friend, more like a sister, who died from childbirth complications at just 16 years old. That moment changed everything for me and sparked my commitment to fighting for Black maternal health.

I’ve seen how racism, bias, and neglect show up in our healthcare system, how they block access to care and endanger lives.

Maternal health is a social justice issue, and I’ve dedicated my career to tackling it through research, advocacy, and action. That’s why I founded the Center for Black Maternal Health and Reproductive Justice: to bring together research, workforce development, community engagement, and policy all in one place.

We train future leaders, uplift midwives and doulas, and work with policymakers to close the gap. And every year, we convene one of the largest Black maternal health conferences in the country because when we bring people together, we build the power to change systems.

Our work is in the data, it’s in the community, and it’s in the laws that shape people’s lives. And we’re just getting started.

TBC: You did a lot of work around COVID. The pandemic feels like the elephant in the room that nobody wants to address anymore, despite the fact that we are clearly still dealing with the experience's socio-economic and political impacts. Why has our society yet to face what happened?

The COVID-19 pandemic laid bare the deep inequalities in our healthcare system, and unfortunately, many of the systemic issues it exposed have not been fully addressed. While we’ve moved past the immediate crisis, the long-term socio-economic and political impacts are still very much present. What happened is that many of the most vulnerable communities, particularly Black and Brown people, bore the brunt of the health and economic toll, but the systems that caused these disparities were not fully reckoned with.

The truth is, as a society, we’ve been so focused on reopening and returning to "normal" that we’ve neglected the hard work of unpacking the trauma and inequities that COVID magnified. From the disproportionate loss of life to the economic collapse that affected Black families most severely, there hasn’t been a comprehensive effort to heal, reflect, and rebuild in an equitable way.

While we still have yet to face the full scope of the pandemic’s effects, it's an opportunity for us to build something better. A system that truly supports all people, not just a few. Until that reckoning happens, we will continue to live in the shadow of the pandemic’s legacy.

TBC: What are some medical things you have seen that are probably tied back to the pandemic? The first thing I think about is how people talk about how undersocialized so many Gen Zers seem, or how, a while ago, people were worried that babies were not developing sensory adaptation well enough since they couldn’t go outside.

Absolutely. One of the biggest medical concerns we've been seeing in the aftermath of the pandemic is what's often referred to as "Long COVID," a range of lingering health issues that can show up well after the initial infection has passed. I’ve heard of an increase in cardiovascular complications among women, including heart disease, blood clots, and even stroke, which raises serious concerns, especially in pregnancy and postpartum care.

We’re also seeing a noticeable spike in mental health challenges. More mood disorders, anxiety, and depression, not just in adults but across generations. Add to that the neurological symptoms some patients are experiencing, and it becomes clear that COVID's impact didn’t end when people tested negative.

There’s still so much we don’t know, and that’s exactly why we need more research and proactive screening, especially in communities that were hit hardest by the virus. These aren’t isolated issues; they’re long-term effects that demand long-term attention.

TBC: Women’s health is having a moment, both with investors pouring money into the space and just the overall spotlight it’s been under since the overturn of Dobbs. What concerns should we have about your ability to keep doing your job as women’s health comes under such fire, especially on a state level, and how can we support you and other doctors?

Thank you for that important question. I’m a PhD and researcher. I work closely with incredible healthcare providers every day, and I see firsthand how essential it is that we support them, especially now.

To truly protect and promote women’s health, we need public investment, policy protections, and community accountability. And we need to support the researchers doing this work through funding, legal protections, and mental health resources so they can continue to show up for their patients.

Women’s health is certainly having a moment, and it deserves sustained attention, not just reactionary support. That’s why our 9th Annual Black Maternal Health Conference in April 2026 will be centered on the full spectrum of women’s health and its role in addressing maternal health inequities. Because maternal health justice isn’t just about birth, it’s about the lifelong health and well-being of Black and Brown women.

TBC: We’ve hit some heavy topics, so perhaps I can ask something lighthearted. Let’s do a rapid-fire.

• Krispy Kreme or Dunkin’? Dunkin’, for sure!

• Afrobeats or Hip Hop? I’m Nigerian…Afrobeats, of course

• Stew or Jollof? Jollof

• New York or Chicago? New York!