When Austin Warren talks about the first time a young Black girl told him, “I want to be like you,” his faith in pursuing veterinary medicine strengthens.
“I remember that day vividly,” Warren said, adding he was at a youth camp near College Station, teaching children about health. “It almost brought me to tears. It reinvigorated me more in this profession to be a positive role model to the next generation.”
For Warren, now a fourth-year student at Texas A&M University’s College of Veterinary Medicine & Biomedical Sciences, that moment captured what is at stake for the nation’s Black veterinarians: visibility.
“What keeps African Americans away from the profession is the lack of role models and representatives in this field,” he said. “It’s something that has been dominated by caucasians. One of the reasons why I joined was because I wanted to help close that diversity gap.”
Warren represents a fraction of that diversity.
According to a 2021 report by the Bureau of Labor Statistics, just 1.2% of veterinarians in the United States are Black, while making up 14.4% of the country’s population. Despite decades of diversity initiatives, veterinary medicine remains one of the least racially diverse professions in the country.
In Houston, a city that is 23% Black, these numbers are even starker. Out of more than 1,024 licensed veterinarians in the Greater Houston area, only a handful are African American.
Building representation, one clinic at a time
In Southwest Houston, two of those trailblazers, Dr. Adria Flowers and Dr. Cherese Sullivan, run Skyline Animal Hospital, one of the few Black women–owned veterinary clinics in the city.
“There are very few Black-owned veterinary practices, let alone women-owned ones,” Flowers said. “We shaped this clinic to be something that represents everyone of minority status.”
For the community around them, where access to pet care had been scarce for over two decades, their clinic’s presence carries both symbolic and practical weight.
“We have built trust,” Flowers added. “There has been no veterinarian in this community for over 25 years…they listen to us, they trust us.”
Sullivan agrees.
“We want to make sure that everybody who comes here is welcome,” she said. “We have clients coming in every single week saying, ‘Thank you so much for being here in this community. I’m so glad that I found a veterinarian that looks like me, my family, and someone that I feel comfortable with.’”
The two doctors met while working at a previous practice. Both reserved and ambitious, they bonded over shared frustrations with microaggressions and barriers.
“I can do the whole exam for the pet, give my diagnosis, my treatment plan, and afterward they can say, ‘Where’s the doctor at?’” Flowers said. “Meaning that I don’t have the same knowledge as someone who is a non-minority. It happens, quite honestly, all the time. It’s kind of a numb feeling because it happens so often.”
Tired of being overlooked or passed over for promotions, they decided to create something of their own. Skyline became a refuge, not just for animals but for aspiring veterinarians of color.
Mentorship as medicine
The doctors at Skyline see mentorship as essential to transforming the field.
“For us, it’s really about building a legacy,” Sullivan explained. “That legacy is through mentorship, being able to develop upcoming leaders in veterinary medicine, being able to show that we have a clinic in our area that is staffed and owned by Black women and welcomes people of all different backgrounds, races, creeds, religions, abilities, etc.”
Skyline partners with local high schools and universities, including Prairie View A&M, Texas Southern University, and Texas A&M, to give students hands-on experience. One of their students was recently accepted into veterinary school this year.
“Our first little baby,” Flowers added proudly.
Sullivan hopes those relationships will help bridge an access gap that begins long before college.
Nationally, that gap is well documented. The cost of tuition is also high.
For recent students entering veterinary school, the estimated total four-year cost of attendance, including tuition, fees, and living expenses, ranges from $180,000 to more than $400,000, depending on the state and veterinary school choice. More than 80% of veterinary students finance their education through student loans, according to the VIN Foundation.
“The cost of attending veterinary school is astronomical now,” Warren said. “Most students have student loan debts upwards of $200,000. Coming from an area or a place that you might already be kind of disadvantaged, it’s hard to come into a career where even some of the more well-off people are leaving school with debt.”
For Warren, who was once rejected from vet school before earning a $50,000 FIGS scholarship, that financial relief was life-changing.
“Getting that scholarship not only invigorated me to keep working harder, it also gave me the platform because FIGS posted me everywhere,” he said. “It opened a lot of doors for me and helped me to kind of get an extra jump. The financial help was huge.”
Fighting stereotypes and systemic barriers
For many Black veterinarians, the struggle does not end with admission. In school and practice, racial bias can shadow even the most qualified candidates.
Sullivan recalls being questioned at a professional conference.
“During vet school, there’s a lot of microaggressions, a lot of being told that you don’t qualify to be there despite meeting or exceeding the admissions requirements,” Sullivan said. “I went into veterinary school with a master’s degree and three or four peer-reviewed publications. I was still being told that I wasn’t qualified to be there.”
Sullivan recalled attending a conference as a guest speaker. While trying to complete her registration, the staff told her the door was “only for speakers,” while her white colleagues entered without being questioned.
Flowers faced similar discrimination on the job.
“I was the go-to veterinarian, ran a particular agency, but I was never given the title of the head doctor,” she said. “I was very qualified, answered all the questions, emails, texts. But my director felt that it was not needed for me to have that position. It was almost kinda like a slap in the face that I was not worth having that title.”
The impact of those experiences goes beyond individual frustration. According to an American Veterinary Medical Association study, veterinarians of color report experiencing discrimination or microaggressions at some point in their careers.
That lack of belonging can push early-career vets out of the profession altogether, Sullivan said.
Community care as public health
At Skyline, Sullivan and Flowers believe in improving community health through the One Health Initiative that connects animal, human, and environmental health, partnering with local rescue groups and nonprofits to vaccinate, spay, and neuter pets for free or low cost.
Their clinic has become a hub for families with service animals, seizure-alert dogs, and deaf clients who rely on animals for communication.
Flowers also organizes World Rabies Day initiatives, securing donated vaccines from pharmaceutical companies and administering them to families for free.
The next generation
At Texas A&M, Warren and a small group of peers revived the National Association of Black Veterinarians (NABV) chapter to create a sense of community on a predominantly white campus.
“We have that community there,” Warren said. “I make sure that I have people who look like me in my circles. It’s hard at A&M because a majority of the population is white. I definitely try to continue to keep being the positive person that I am and understanding that I might be one of the minorities in the group, but I belong and have worked hard to get to where I am today.”
In a field where Warren, Sullivan, and Flowers strive for inclusivity, their work reflects a shift.
“This field can feel like it’s scary to get into, especially for an African American, or any minority, but it’s not impossible,” Warren said. “I just want to encourage anybody who even has an inkling of an idea that this might be something that they want to do to listen to that feeling.”
