#ILookLikeASurgeon

A global movement on identity, representation, and culture in medicine.

What began as a hashtag became a global conversation—reaching surgeons, students, and patients around the world.

#ILookLikeASurgeon challenged assumptions, expanded representation, and created space for honest dialogue within surgery. It grew from a single tweet into a community that connected people across specialties, borders, and identities—people who recognized themselves, and each other, in a profession too often defined by a narrow image.

Shaped by the voices of surgeons, trainees, patients, and allies willing to be seen, the movement affirmed something both simple and profound: representation matters—in the operating room, in training programs, and in the culture of medicine itself.

1 tweet
August 2015
~40K tweets in
3 months
128M+ impressions
by 2015
~1B impressions
by 2017
7 chapters The story behind the movement
01

Origin

#ILookLikeASurgeon did not happen alone.

At the time, I had just completed a second preliminary year and was returning to social media to network with the goal of securing a categorical position. The movement began with a simple suggestion from my co-resident, Dr. Sara Scarlet—to share a hashtag. She had read about the #ILookLikeAnEngineer movement and suggested I start #ILookLikeASurgeon. Already a blogger, I wrote a post to give the idea shape and meaning. Surgeon and fellow blogger Dr. Kathryn Hughes offered to "boost it" on her social media that same night.

A few brave voices began sharing their photos. There was something unmistakable in the spirit of it—that anyone could "look like a surgeon," and that the image of who belongs could expand. With that in mind, I added my own.

02

Early Momentum

Around that time, Dr. Marissa Boeck—then a general surgery resident and a stranger to me—joined Kathryn Hughes and me to form a tightly connected trio.

While some hashtags gain traction through momentum alone, #ILookLikeASurgeon did not. For the first two months, Kathryn, Marissa, and I deliberately retweeted nearly every post. Some days stretched 18 hours. The longest reached 22. We followed the rhythm of the globe, knowing that when one region slept, another was just beginning.

There was no off-switch. No pause.
03

Building the Movement

For months, we were in constant communication—messages exchanged throughout the day, strategy unfolding in real time, momentum building faster than any of us could have anticipated.

To give the movement direction, we began holding impromptu leadership calls with individuals who had organically stepped into leadership as it grew. We also invited blog posts on topics of diversity, patient care, and humanism in surgery—and then amplified them—expanding the movement beyond images into a broader conversation about culture and care.

Together, Kathryn and Marissa brought energy, consistency, and an extraordinary level of commitment that transformed an idea into a movement.

04

The Second Push

A defining turning point came with the New Yorker operating room cover challenge. This phase is the brainchild of Dr. Susan Pitt, whose vision and creativity drove the concept forward. Early on, she reached out to Marissa, and together they infused the movement with renewed energy, direction, and momentum at a pivotal point in its growth.

The cover challenge breathed new life into the movement, expanding its reach and making it even more widely recognized.

05

Shaping the Visual Language of Surgery

While operating room lights have always been part of the surgical environment, they became something more—a shared symbol of identity, presence, and belonging. The image took on new meaning, giving the movement a visual anchor that extended far beyond any single post.

Together, they transformed a moment into something larger—an expression of visibility, identity, and collective presence that helped solidify the movement's cultural impact.

06

Carrying the Work Forward

At that time, I was navigating life with a newborn and the demands of residency applications. While I remained connected to the work, much of the energy and execution of this phase was carried forward by Susan and Marissa.

This is how the movement grew—through shared effort, sustained commitment, and people who stepped forward to carry it when it mattered most.

07

Why It Matters

At its core, this work was never just about representation—it was about expanding the sense of who belongs in surgery, and making that belonging visible to anyone still searching for it.

That first tweet sparked the conversation. Kathryn, Marissa—and later Susan—joined me, carrying and amplifying it into something the world could not ignore.

Blogs That Shaped the Movement

The blog posts were not an afterthought — they were the movement's voice. From the first tweet to patient perspectives, allyship, queerness in surgery, and wellness, these pieces gave the conversation depth and staying power. Each one was amplified across the network as it went live.

Some of these posts were written years into a fast-moving conversation — if you find a broken link, or would like any updates to your linked social media, I'd love to know.

Co-Architects of the Movement

The movement grew because others chose to show up for it — night after night, time zone after time zone.

What came next

#ILookLikeASurgeon made something clear: the visibility conversation in medicine was not finished — it had barely started. Different communities needed their own language, their own entry points, their own digital infrastructure.

In 2017, I co-founded #BlackMenInMedicine — a social media movement focused specifically on visibility, representation, mentorship, and support for Black men pursuing careers in medicine. The same underlying questions were driving it: who gets to see themselves in this profession? Who gets the mentorship, the community, the sense of belonging that makes a career not just possible but sustainable? The form was new. The work was the same.

These movements are not separate projects. They are expressions of the same conviction: that who is visible in medicine shapes who enters it, who stays, and ultimately what kind of care gets delivered.