Tag Archives: Genetic counseling

Guest Post: Can Special Interest Groups Survive the Open Access Pass?

by Smita K. Rao, MBBS, MS, LCGC and Michelle Moore, MS, LCGC

Smita K. Rao, MBBS, MS, LCGC is the past co-chair of the International SIG. Michelle Moore, MS, LCGC is the current co-chair of the J.E.D.I Subcommittee for Lab/Industry SIG

As crowds of newly graduated genetic counselors (GCs) herded through the vast Convention Center in New Orleans for the 43rd National Society of Genetic Counselors (NSGC) Annual Conference in September, a much smaller group of more seasoned GCs instinctively veered toward the Special Interest Group (SIG) pavilion. But the energy of previous years had disappeared – entering the pavilion felt like walking into a middle/high school science fair. SIG leaders or their representatives were assigned specific locations where a sign and some sparse brochures or flyers displayed information. Each SIG presented their best elevator pitch as people walked by to highlight the benefits their SIG could provide. Is this the new face of the SIGs in the world of the Open Access Pass? 

In order to understand what the Open Access Pass is and how it came about, some historical background is necessary. SIGs historically have created communities that support the more focused interests of its members. SIG leaders invest volunteer hours to help promote these interests by providing opportunities for further education and research through webinars, social hours, and workshops

In 2021, The Exeter Group’s NSGC Report exposed what many SIG leaders had already been hearing from their membership for years – genetic counselors of color, the LBGTQ+ community, and those with disabilities felt ostracized and unsupported. Being the grassroot factor that connects the Society with its members, the ripple effects of the events of 2020 (the pandemic and social justice movement) brought the discussion of justice, equity, diversity and inclusion (J.E.D.I.) to the doorstep of the SIGs. Many SIGs created their own J.E.D.I. subcommittees and safe spaces to support their members. Social hours and webinars were dedicated to J.E.D.I. initiatives and how personal changes could propel a larger positive shift. 

In response to The Exeter Group’s report, NSGC leadership posted a statement of solidarity proposing the formation of a J.E.D.I. task force. But forming a task force takes time and the SIGs continued to plead for support and immediate direction from the NSGC leadership. SIG leaders published a Perspectives article that beautifully communicated the challenges they faced, the resources successfully created thus far, and provided constructive ideas on how NSGC leadership could provide concrete, immediate support to the SIGs. Subsequently NSGC leadership introduced a two-phase response to SIG requests. The first phase dissolved the SIG-led webinar series (where each SIG typically held 6-8 webinars a year as a cost-effective CEU option, at times without a charge) and transitioned to a NSGC-led umbrella webinar series where each SIG could hold only one webinar each year.  The CEU fees are now higher for each individual webinar and for the entire series. In the second phase, NSGC created a SIG Task Force to define the role of the SIGs. 

Although many felt this two-phase response appeared counter to the suggestions in the Perspectives article, SIG leaders welcomed the opportunity to be a part of the solution. Additionally, some SIGs took independent initiative to create new educational opportunities, such as the Student/New Grad SIG’s Genetic Counselors for Racial Justice (GCRJ) platform. Not all SIGs survived these changes, with some SIGs disbanding, forming another group outside NSGC, or merged with other SIGs. NSGC’s actions led to the creation of the Open Access Pass, which now allows members to pay one fee for access to all SIGs, instead of paying separately for each SIG membership. 

The concept of the Open Access Pass is a commendable attempt (and supported unanimously by SIG leaders) to increase inclusion and access. However, when combined with fewer webinars and reduced funding, it has further restricted SIG autonomy. While lowering SIG membership costs decreases the financial burden for some members, it does not help address the larger issue of NSGC membership fees being among the highest in various genetic societies in the nation. Additionally, the Open Access Pass necessitates that all SIG expenditures come out of the NSGC budget with approval from the NSGC Board and other specific subcommittees. This limits each SIG’s ability to fund multiple projects or initiatives. Now SIGs must choose and put forward 1-2 projects in each category of research and special projects for approval to be funded. This new structure reduces the community reach of each SIG as they are unable to support the smaller activities that might have been their focus. 

The SIGs have continued to navigate this very tumultuous time of the last four years. Despite mentioning increased participation in SIGs during the State of Society Address at the Annual meeting, volunteerism has been on the decline in the world at large. Although each NSGC member is “involved” in more SIGs, the actual amount of time they can give to each SIG activity is still limited. Many SIGs have noted decreased attendance at SIG meetings and fewer volunteers for SIG projects. The Open Access Pass did not cause this decline, but it compounds an existing trend of reduced volunteerism due to widespread job cuts across the genetic industry in recent years, increasing anxiety and unrest among our members. 

NSGC’s J.E.D.I. plan is commendable and proposes critical changes in many segments of its organization. At the State of the Society, we also heard that the Exeter Group released another NSGC report this year. Our organization’s DEI index has gone from a C- to a C grade designation. However, membership still wants projects to be implemented that will impact our members. The SIG experience demonstrates the challenge of balancing the desire to bring about radical change and the multiple barriers to achieving this goal.  The new SIG structure is still in its infancy. Only time will tell if these changes bring to fruition an increase in access and equity or continue to lower the individual impact and autonomy of each SIG. 

As previous SIG leaders, we are thankful for the significant impact of work we brought about while enjoying the camaraderie in the process of supporting the individual priorities of our SIGs. NSGC leadership must continue their efforts to listen more deeply, to be more transparent, and to execute with more meaningful intent. Learn from other organizations such as the Minority Genetic Professional Network (MGPN), whose warm, personalized efforts at the Annual Conference were hugely refreshing! Diversity and equity exuded from every action, every smile, every hug, every exchange received when entering their room for a bit of respite and recovery. The positive energy of the MGPN reminds us of the original purpose of the SIGs – to be a welcoming, safe space, where J.E.D.I. initiatives are a given and NOT a choice. Equity begins with understanding the needs of our community and providing opportunities for inclusion and connection. These are values and principles that an organization MUST inculcate into every project, committee, and subgroup it fosters. Replace the science fair carousel at the SIG pavilion and assign spaces for SIGs to gather at the conference to celebrate their member communities. Work toward what our members truly need. Dig deeper for meaningful change. Take Action over Talk. Thank you.

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Disabled Bodies and Enabling The Creation of The Medical Genetics Profession

Medical geneticists and genetic counselors have an often complicated and at times tense relationship with people with disabilities, their families, advocates, and scholars. Geneticists are strong advocates and supporters for all of their patients, regardless of their abilities and disabilities. Although people with disabilities should not be viewed as a homogenous group with no variation in attitudes and beliefs, a visit to a genetics clinic can make patients feel very “other” when they are analyzed, catalogued, measured, and examined to determine just how different they are, to find out what’s “wrong” with them. Many patients and advocates – though by no means all – view prenatal testing as an existential threat. To better understand this situation, a look at the historical origins of medical genetics can shed some light on this dynamic.

The medical genetics specialty began to cohere and develop in the decades between the 1940s and 1970s. Its roots go back before 1940, mostly in the form of eugenics. The term “medical genetics” was introduced in the early 1930s*, likely independently, by the eugenics-minded Madge Macklin, then at the University of Western Ontario, at the 1932 Third International Congress of Eugenics and in 1931 in the UK by the vehement critic of eugenics Lancelot Hogben in his text Genetics Principles in Medicine and Social Science (although he proposed his own eugenic ideas in the text). But there was no clear cut profession of medical genetics or providers who called themselves genetic counselors in the early decades of the 20th century.

Lancelot Hogben’s text where he introduced the term “medical genetics.”
P. 214 from the Hogben text
Madge Macklin’s paper in which she introduced the term “medical genetics,” apparently independently from Hogben. Presented at the 3rd International Congress on Eugenics, New York City, 1932. Note the first sentence of the last paragraph, which states: “Until the medical practitioner is made aware of heredity as an etiological factor in the production of disease, he will not be apt to have a sympathetic attitude toward public education nor toward any scheme which may be devised to curtail the heavy economic waste of caring for the hereditary defective.”

The formative period for the medical genetics specialty began shortly after WWII ended. The first medical genetics clinics opened their doors in the 1940s and 1950s. The American Society of Human Genetics, the first professional organization for medical and other human geneticists, was established in 1948; its flagship journal, the American Journal of Human Genetics, first began publication in 1949. Accurate human karyotyping,** the primary genetic laboratory test for decades, became available during the 1950s, thanks to the work of Tjio and Levan. Several foundational texts were published, such as Victor McKusick’s Mendelian Inheritance in Man in 1966, Dave Smith’s Recognizable Patterns of Human Malformation in 1970, and Josef Warkany’s Congenital Malformations in 1971. The American Journal of Medical Genetics began publication in 1977. The American Board of Medical Genetics (now the American Board of Medical Genetics and Genomics), the original professional certifying organization for medical geneticists and genetic counselors, was incorporated in 1980. These achievements are hallmarks of a nascent profession working to establish its professional scope and legitimacy. They resulted in the creation of jobs, hospital departments, clinical laboratories, a research tradition, the profession of genetic counseling, and eventually contributed to the expansive growth of prenatal testing and commercial genetic testing laboratories.

Historians of science have offered several explanations for this post-WWII growth, such as increasing sophistication of genetic knowledge, an ethical reckoning with eugenics, advances in medical technology, and epidemics of teratogenically-induced fetal conditions such as fetal rubella syndrome and fetal thalidomide syndrome in the 1950s and 1960s. While these were contributing factors to the formation of the Medical Genetics specialty, I would argue that they were secondary rather than primary factors. Medical genetics was built primarily on the minds and bodies of people with genetic and congenital disabilities. Disability – and social attitudes toward it – was the initial raison d’être for medical genetics and the associated genetic counseling. Of course geneticists saw patients for indications other than disability. For example, a very common reason for referral to genetics clinics was to try to determine the ultimate racial appearance of an infant up for adoption so that it could be placed with a “racially appropriate” family. But the primary clinical focus of the early genetics clinics was the clinical evaluation of people with disabilities. No disability then no medical genetics (or at least a medical genetics that would have looked very different).

How can I make such a claim? Well, during this period there wasn’t much in the way of treatment for most genetic conditions. Instead, geneticists focused on describing the bodies of people with disabilities in painstaking clinical detail. Naming and identifying syndromes and their differences and sub-types. Determining the likelihood of a condition occurring or recurring. Describing anatomical structures that have gone embryologically awry. Measuring the distance between the eyes, the length of the philtrum, the distal phalanges, the head circumference. Noting the angle of the palpebral fissures, the insertion of the ear, the location of the anus relative to the genitalia. Commenting on the presence or absence of a single palmar crease, soft tissue webbing, fifth finger clinodactyly. How the bodies of people with disabilities were dysmorphic, malformed, deformed, and disrupted. In short, how their bodies differed from the “norm.” This gave medical geneticists a common vocabulary with which to communicate with one another, unique clinical skills, and it provided scientific legitimacy to their efforts. It also undoubtedly didn’t make people with disabilities feel good about their bodies. Nor would the stark clinical photographs published in genetics books and journals that sucked the dignity and humanity right out of the patients (often pictured naked and with their eyes blackened out).

This approach to patient care allowed the first waves of medical geneticists to establish their clinical expertise and carve out a professional niche that set them apart from pediatricians, neurologists, and other medical specialists. No other branch of medicine focused so heavily on parsing out human macro- and micro- phenotypic variation. A medical specialty was born.

Every medical specialty has its clinical focus, usually defined by specific diseases or organ systems. Oncologists treat cancer patients. Nephrologists care for patients with kidney disease. Cardiovascular specialists manage patients with heart disease. These patients were regarded as “normal” people with unfortunate diseases that needed to be treated and cured. People with disabilities were regarded as unfortunate people who needed to be prevented, reflecting prevailing social attitudes of this period. The genetic counseling provided during that time echoed these attitudes. Despite disavowals of eugenics, post WWII genetic counseling focused on avoiding the births of disabled bodies.

This is not to imply that medical geneticists during this period were bad people who intentionally and callously used the bodies of people with disabilities for personal and professional gain. These men (and they were almost exclusively males) were for the most part kind and compassionate physicians who cared deeply about their patients and usually treated them with respect and dignity, just like almost every medical geneticist I met throughout my career. Many patients were very grateful for the care they received in medical genetics clinics. It wasn’t a matter of bad physicians providing sub-standard medical care for devious purposes and personal gain. Rather, medical genetics was an outgrowth of the ableist and anti-disability structure of medicine and of society as a whole.

There was of course some level of reciprocity. People with disabilities and their families could benefit from the services provided by medical geneticists. A syndrome name to help end the Diagnostic Odyssey. Anticipatory medical and developmental guidance, referrals to neurologists, surgeons, educators, physical therapists, and other specialists who might treat and care for patients’ often complicated medical issues. A medical home where patients could make sure their often complex medical needs were being tended to and coordinated by a single care provider. An expert authority who could provide education and knowledge about often rare conditions that were beyond the clinical knowledge of pediatricians and other non-genetics providers. But the benefits were asymmetric. Patients and their families came away with perhaps recurrence risks, maybe a syndrome name, and some idea of what their medical and developmental futures might look like. But people with disabilities have managed to survive and live their lives since the dawn of humanity (though now always pleasantly) without the existence of medical geneticists. Medical geneticists, on the other hand, gained an entire profession. They needed the bodies of people with disabilities in order to create careers and a brand new medical specialty.

Medical geneticists today still care for patients with disabilities, though the situation is more nuanced and complex than in the past. Patients are generally treated with greater respect and have greater autonomy. Medical geneticists and genetic counselors have expanded their scope of practice to conditions beyond disability, such as cancer, neurological disorders, cardiovascular diseases, pharmacogenomics, and psychiatric conditions. Social attitudes toward disability are less negative than they once were and this is reflected in the way genetic counseling is provided. Genetic analysis has become more sophisticated. There are more treatment and management options for the health problems associated with genetic conditions, helping some people with disabilities and their families lead richer, healthier, and fuller lives.

Nonetheless, the historical tensions persist. Patients and providers often have different views of what constitutes a disability and what disorders need testing, treating, and curing. The list of conditions amenable to prenatal testing grows exponentially, usually with little or no input from the people and families affected by the conditions. The value of people with disabilities is often still measured in economic terms. Structural, conscious, and unconscious ableism is ubiquitous, even among the most sensitive and supportive providers and institutions. We’ve come a long way, but it’s still a long haul to go.

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* -The Macklin and Hogben references were the earliest I could find on the origin of the term “medical genetics.” If readers are aware of earlier references, please let me know.

** – Human, plant, and drosophila chromosomes had been analyzed since the early decades of the 20th century. However, the crude laboratory techniques did not always allow for accurate analysis or even correct chromosomes counts. The word karyotype was coined by the Soviet plant geneticist Grigory Livitsky around 1930. Like many Soviet geneticists of the Stalin era, Livitsky was arrested and eventually died in a Soviet prison in 1942 after ideological clashes with Stalin’s favored geneticist, the notorious Trofim Lysenko. Lysenko rejected Mendelian genetics and his scientifically misguided agricultural policies led to catastrophic crop failures, widespread famine, and millions of deaths in the Soviet Union and China, which also followed Lysenko’s lead. As with the Covid pandemic, millions of avoidable deaths resulted from a rejection of sound science and research.

 

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Guest Post: The Weight of Anti-Fat Bias

by Sarah Wiser

In this post, the word “fat” is used intentionally to follow the language of fat advocacy organizations. This is meant to challenge the notion that the word “fat” is inherently bad but rather is a neutral descriptor that describes the bodies of many people. As with other identities, individuals may prefer the use of other terms to describe themselves, in which case it is always best to mirror that language. 

Genetics is at the core of many efforts to address the “obesity epidemic.” Genetic tools such as polygenic scores, CRISPR-Cas9 technology, and direct-to-consumer genetic tests share the goal of minimizing fatness. Not only do these efforts ignore the already understood social determinants related to weight and health, but they consistently exclude the perspectives of fat people. Additionally, gene panels designed to identify monogenic causes of obesity raise concerns; while they might be able to provide actionable medical information, the focus should not be exclusively on weight loss. 

When we center weight loss as the main mechanism to support one’s health, we reinforce the persistent idea that if someone is fat, they are, by definition, unhealthy, and addressing their weight, therefore, must be a top priority. This can lead to experiences where people’s health concerns are not taken seriously or further explored, perpetuating mistrust in the healthcare system and subpar care. As the genetic counseling profession strives to promote more inclusive and equitable spaces, it is important for us all to reflect on our own biases and minimize over-pathologizing fatness. 

Anti-fat bias is pervasive

Fatness is unique in that it is both externally visible and it remains socially acceptable to point out or express dislike for. One’s weight is often attributed to a direct depiction of a person’s character or behavior. Fat people are seen as “lazy” and “lacking willpower,” while thin people are perceived as having “earned” their societal advantage. In her book Hunger, Roxane Gay writes, 

“When you’re overweight, your body becomes a matter of public record in many respects. Your body is constantly and prominently on display. People project assumed narratives onto your body and are not at all interested in the truth of your body, whatever that truth might be. Fat, much like skin color, is something you cannot hide, no matter how dark the clothing you wear, or how diligently you avoid horizontal stripes” (page 31).

Media reinforces these beliefs. Popular films and TV shows such as Super Size Me and The Biggest Loser present opportunities for viewers to pass judgment on those who engage in “fattening behaviors” while further solidifying one’s pre-existing belief that thinness is earned by a series of correct decisions. Even in the recently released Wonka, fatness stemming from gluttony, selfishness, and poor morals is used repeatedly as a punchline. News coverage of the so-called “obesity epidemic” is filled with unflattering images of “headless” individuals, often sedentary or eating “unhealthy” food. Imagery such as this works to remove the humanity of people who are fat and further the widespread belief that fatness is simply a result of “bad choices.” 

Similar to other forms of oppression, people experience anti-fat bias in many ways. For example, there currently exists no federal protections and very few state protections against weight-related discrimination in the workplace. Fat people are often the subject of undesired critiques of their bodies, typically said under the guise of “caring about their health.” No space may be more dangerous for fat individuals than healthcare, where weight is weaponized against patients by providers claiming to “do no harm.” 

While the relationship between health and weight is tenuous, there is a clear relationship between anti-fat bias and adverse health outcomes, including increased stress levels and healthcare avoidance. When individuals seek care, the quality of care they receive is often lower. For example, when seeking cancer screening as a person who is fat, there are many barriers, including providers who will deny services such as a Pap smear based on weight.  Additionally, there is a history of the medical system causing harm through the over-prioritization of weight loss. One such example is that of Fen-Phen, a combination weight-loss pill that was eventually recalled due to it causing valvular heart disease

Increasing accessibility to genetic counseling for patients who are fat 

Genetic counselors provide support for individuals navigating healthcare spaces. Even though someone’s weight is not the indication for an appointment, people who are fat do not come to us in a vacuum. Rather, we fit into their broader experience seeking healthcare, which often includes experiences of bias and stigmatization. We must understand these experiences to provide adequate support and mitigate additional harm. 

Genetic counselors must examine how to make their practices more inclusive for fat people.  Are the chairs narrow and with arms, which may be uncomfortable for someone who is fat? Is there utility in taking the weight of the patients you see for your appointment? How is weight used in cancer risk assessment models?  Are you making assumptions about someone’s health-promoting behaviors based on their weight? How do you discuss healthy diet and exercise? How are you discussing and recording no-call cfDNA results, challenges with ultrasonography, or limitations of standard MRIs being able to accommodate some people’s body size?

We also must be mindful of our language. For many fat people, the common-in-healthcare descriptor of “obesity” often evokes a negative response and feels overly medicalized. The term obesity is also a direct reference to the Body Mass Index (BMI), an ineffective predictor of health with racist origins and uses. Similarly, avoiding the use of phrases such as “struggling with their weight” to describe people can help mitigate the idea that being fat is inherently something one struggles with. 

For decades now, fears of the “obesity epidemic” have harmfully implied that a person’s fatness is inherently detrimental to society at large. Over time, these ideas become so ubiquitous that people rarely question them. As genetic counselors dedicated to providing unbiased and supportive care to all of our patients, we need to understand the importance of unlearning and reflecting on systems of oppression, and anti-fat bias must not be an exception.


Sarah Wiser, B.S. (she/her) is a second-year genetic counseling student at Boston University Chobanian & Avedisian School of Medicine. Sarah is passionate about promoting equitable access to genetic counseling services and challenging anti-fat bias in healthcare. 


 

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Workforce Woes

This spring we will welcome a record number of new genetic counselors to the field. Based on 2022 year Match data from the National Matching Service Inc, we expect >500 new graduates in 2024.* The growing number of graduates is the natural result of more training programs and expanding class sizes in existing programs.

Unfortunately, it seems that this record number of new grads arrive to one of the worst job markets for genetic counselors in many years. Based on conversations I have had with a number of recent or soon-to-be genetic counseling graduates and informal conversations with several genetic counselors involved with training program administration, many new grads are having a hard time finding that first position. It is really tough for job seekers right now. 

I am writing this to provide some historical background about why we might be in this position, and where we have so missed the mark in terms of supply and demand. It is my hope that we can learn from these mistakes and make changes as a profession to improve job opportunities, growth and security while also improving genetic services.

I am also writing though because I want to give assurance to all those entering the field in 2024 that it will get better. When I graduated, 20+ years ago I came out of my training program without a job, and I know how devastating and heavy that can feel. The job market has waxed and waned in the past and the pendulum will swing the other way at some point. The reason for my optimism is that, although our current job boards don’t reflect this, I believe that now, more than ever there is a need for the expertise and services that we can provide as genetic counselors. I want to reassure you that you will one day find that perfect job.  And I also want you to know that the fact that you don’t yet have a job yet is not your fault.

How did we get here?

Recent history provides context for how we got to this point. Just over a decade ago, three major events rocked the field of clinical genetics:

  1. Although it is hard to believe that there was a time before next generation sequencing (NGS), Sanger sequencing was the standard for many years. NGS allowed for gene sequencing to be done more cost-effectively and around 2010 we started seeing more multigene panels come to the market.
  • In late 2011 the first prenatal cell-free fetal DNA screening test, MaterniT21, became commercially available through Sequenom. In the years that followed, versions of cfDNA tests were released by multiple companies, creating an intensely competitive commercial landscape.
  • In June of 2013, Myriad Genetics lost their monopoly on BRCA1 and BRCA2 testing when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that human genes could not be patented in the landmark case, Association for Molecular Pathology v. Myriad Genetics.  This opened an opportunity for many labs to enter the genetic testing market.

All of these factors contributed to an enormous growth of the genetic testing industry and rapid escalation in demand for genetic counselors.  The commercialization of the field of genetic testing was unlike anything we had seen before. Genetic testing was front page news and investors were lining up to be a part of it. Labs, flush with venture capital money, created many new job opportunities for genetic counselors. 

In some cases, the job creation was very direct, with labs hiring genetic counselors as medical science liaisons, or to work in variant interpretation, product development and direct patient care roles. In other cases, the jobs created were with the telehealth companies labs hired to provide genetic counseling support to providers and patients ordering their brand of test.  Additionally, the growing availability of genetic testing and investment in genetic testing technology created jobs in hospitals, clinics and research settings.

By 2015 it was clear that the demand for genetic counselors exceeded the number of trained people to fill the jobs. The following data was presented at the National Society of Genetic Counselors Annual Conference in 2015:

This graph contrasted the number of job postings on the NSGC job board with the number of genetic counselors coming out of training programs. In 2015, we had 291 genetic counseling program graduates compared to 655 job postings. 

I am sad to say that this year, with ~500 graduates, there are 44 jobs listed on the NSGC job board at the time of this writing, and about half of these are not listings for genetic counselor jobs. In part, this reflects the fact that companies are not using the NSGC job board as their one and only means of recruitment, but it is also, undeniably, an indication that there are not many open jobs right now.

In 2015, a Workforce Working Group (WFWG) was established comprised of representatives from the American Board of Genetic Counseling (ABGC), the Accreditation Council for Genetic Counseling (ACGC), the Association of Genetic Counseling Program Directors (AGCPD) and the National Society of Genetic Counselors (NSGC). The charges to the WFWG were as follows:

●     Identify current and future barriers and opportunities that impact the growth of the CGC workforce.

●     Make recommendations to and support the development of specific action items that will facilitate growth of the profession and minimize and/or remove barriers to expansion.

●     Drive and coordinate the efforts of the professional genetic counseling organizations to ensure the action items recommended by the working group are carried out in the most efficient and effective manner possible.

The WFWG commissioned a consulting firm, Dobson DaVanzo & Associates, LLC, to conduct a workforce supply and demand projection study of certified genetic counselors in the US over the time period from 2017-2026.  This report considered many factors as they attempted to project the future needs and factors that could complicate their estimations.

The report developed two models in which the projected need for genetic counselors was 1 per 100K or 1 per 75K population and they projected we would reach equilibrium for the 1 per 100K model by 2026. While the workforce study recommended expanding existing training programs and developing new programs, they warned, “activities around this initiative will be focused on accelerating growth, while being mindful of not overreaching and exceeding demand.”

The report also raised concern regarding a “substitution effect” which was defined as other healthcare providers providing genetic counseling to patients.  Additionally, the Dobson DaVanzo report also cautioned, “policies that restrict reimbursement to direct patient care by certified genetic counselors who are not affiliated with a commercial laboratory would likely reduce the effective demand for care, while at the same time reducing the ability of providers to meet patient need.”

This workforce report provided guidance on the importance of cautious growth with the caveat that it was an uncertain and rapidly changing landscape. The current situation has left me questioning if our profession considered this report in full as we have grown our workforce?

We met the Dobson & DaVanzo report’s projection of ~6.5K certified genetic counselors in March of 2023, more than 3 years ahead of schedule, and we continue to have more genetic counselors graduating from training programs than ever before. It does not appear to me that we have been “mindful of not overreaching and exceeding demand.”  Of the 55 programs listed on the ACGC website, 14 are designated “new accredited programs”, and there are an additional 6 applications for programs in the works.

The substitution effect was defined by Dobson & DaVanzo as non-genetic counselors doing genetic counselors’ work. For the most part, we have not seen nurse practitioners, physician’s assistants or other providers stepping in to do the work of genetic counselors. From my view, what we have seen is that we are increasingly substituting ourselves. Let me explain. The labs understand that to compete in this market, it is essential to package genetic counseling with genetic testing. I see the labs going to providers who are neither equipped to nor interested in doing the counseling themselves, and offering complimentary genetic counseling as a perk for those ordering their brand of testing. The problem is, in many cases, genetic counseling provided gratis by a laboratory is not comparable to what would have been provided by a non-lab-affiliated genetic counselor in a clinical setting. The patient may get a message through a portal that tells them they can schedule a genetic counseling appointment.  They may talk with a genetic counselor by phone for a few minutes to review results. What they rarely receive in these encounters is the comprehensive genetic counseling care that was factored into this workforce study. At this point, many providers and patients believe that this test-bundled follow-up care is standard genetic counseling.  And, used to getting it for free, many providers and healthcare systems are now unwilling to pay what it costs to have genetic counselors on staff.

As important as it is, our profession has largely ignored the issue of how we are paid. This not only affects our job prospects, it affects the level of care we are able to offer to our patients.

The genetic testing lab bubble that began around 2013 created jobs funded by easy access to business loans and venture capital.  Labs could use their huge investor funds to pay nice salaries to genetic counselors even when their companies were losing millions (and in many cases, hundreds of millions of dollars a year).  The workforce study was developed at the time of this bubble and did not take into account the possibility that this job creation was unsustainable.  Now, the VC bubble is deflating.  After a decade of sustained and significant losses, investors are no longer willing to keep these labs going without return on their investment. Borrowing money has also become increasingly expensive and difficult. As a result, we are seeing labs retrench, close or be absorbed by competitors, with resultant layoffs of genetic counselors.  And with many in our field looking for work, we have yet to reckon with the fact that we still don’t have a viable and sustainable funding model for genetic counseling services – in large part because fair reimbursement is difficult to demand when some version of genetic counseling services have so often been given away for free.

Another bit of history, and one the WFWG could not have factored in, was a global pandemic. Undoubtedly COVID-19 disrupted healthcare in ways that affected genetic counselors. As to the big picture, I think one important issue connected to the pandemic has been some of the financial challenges faced by many industries. For example the interest rate hikes, which have been a tool used to try to curb inflation has made funding more expensive and difficult to secure. The timing of this is unfortunate given the recent position of the labs. However, this does not change the fact that growing a profession on the basis of borrowed funds and start-up investors put us in a precarious place even without the added financial challenges brought on by the pandemic.

What comes next?

Given all that has changed over the last decade, and because we are nearly at the end of the period that the Dobson DaVanzo study had projected, I hope the WFWG has plans for another workforce study. Our profession is in need of an updated analysis of workforce issues.

Until we find a way to fund genetic counseling positions that does not rely on the house of cards that is laboratory funding, we should be mindful that our program growth does not outstrip the job opportunities for our newest colleagues.

The rapid growth in training programs suggests that the institutions involved looked at the rosy growth projections and ignored the recommendation to proceed with caution.  Between the challenging job market and the difficulty securing clinical training sites for students, I imagine many involved in training programs are alarmed. While we have added many training slots, the program I attended, at Brandeis University, closed at the end of 2022 because there weren’t enough clinical training sites to serve the number of enrolled students the school required to cover the costs of maintaining the program. More programs may soon be facing tough decisions like this. One program director I spoke with shared, “many programs do not receive any state funding which means they have to run completely on tuition dollars. Even one student difference can break a budget that relies on those tuition dollars and may result in a program closing.”

In addition to considering carefully the growth of our profession through the training programs it is imperative that we all continue to advocate for fair reimbursement. The work we do as genetic counselors is valuable and crucial to the ethical practice of genetic healthcare, now more than ever. And I expect the need will only grow from here.  But, we risk not being able to be in these roles, providing care and expert guidance if we do not first ensure that we have sustainable reimbursement for our services.  Every single one of us needs to advocate for the “The Access to Genetic Counselor Services Act” so that genetic counselors are recognized by Medicare and can be reimbursed for the services we provide. This is everything. Have you contacted your representative?

I also hope we can mobilize as a profession to advocate for comprehensive standards of care in our work as genetic counselors. We should reflect on the recent challenges and disruptions we have seen in the field and consider how we are defining the practice of genetic counseling. If we continue to allow the profit motives of the labs to push us to act more as genetic testing facilitators, we will have an increasingly difficult time sustaining our ability to provide comprehensive genetic counseling and support. 

Lastly I would like to send a message to all of the new and soon to be graduates who do not yet have jobs secured. Please don’t lose hope.  You are the future of our profession, and we need you to help move us and genetic services forward for the better. 

*The original version of this article stated, “A report published in 2022 by the Accreditation Council for Genetic Counseling (ACGC) indicates that ~800 genetic counselors will complete their training at the 55 accredited training programs.” and referenced the following report: https://www.gceducation.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/ACGC_2022_AnnualReport.pdf This was changed to reflect data from the National Matching Services Inc statistics, which reported that 547 applicants matched with a GC program in 2022.

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The Myth of an Apolitical Workplace: Recognizing Politics as a Part of Genetic Counseling

A guest post by Ambreen Khan and Kimberly Zayhowski

Normative standards of professionalism dictate that a professional should remain apolitical, positing that separating personal beliefs from professional endeavors allows one to maintain objectivity. The enforcement of these standards is increasingly evident in genetic counseling spaces, such as with censorship in workplace meetings, on discussion forums and social media, and at conferences.

However, remaining apolitical grows complex given the politicization of everyone’s identities and personhood. The intertwining of personal, political, and professional realms is undeniable, often operating subconsciously. Operating in a makeshift bubble of neutrality disconnects us from the lived realities of our colleagues and the patients we strive to serve.

Eugenics underpinnings in genetic counseling 

The roots of the genetic counseling profession are entangled with a history steeped in eugenics, a movement advocating for selective breeding to enhance the human population by using erroneous assumptions about genetics shaped primarily by social, political and personal biases of its supporters. Originating in the late 19th century, eugenics principles guided the atrocities committed during Nazi Germany’s reign, heavily shaped by American eugenicists like Charles Davenport and studies from the Eugenics Record Office at Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory. The historical justification of eugenics to forcibly sterilize, criminalize, and perpetrate genocide against minoritized communities has been rooted in the misappropriation of genetic and medical concepts. Therefore, dismissing the importance of politics in the field of genetics is a fallacy.

Genetic counseling’s origins can be traced back to the ethically fraught ideology of breeding out those considered less “desirable.” The justification for establishing and funding the first genetic counseling program suggested that genetic counseling serves as a strategy to mitigate hereditary diseases and encourage individuals to make informed decisions regarding reproduction, both for their own well-being and that of the broader population. 

Despite the prevailing belief among genetic counselors that we are staunchly anti-eugenics, traces of eugenic ideology persist within certain aspects of our practice, aligning with broader political and power structures. This is exemplified by the recent NSGC Practice Guidelines suggesting the use of expanded carrier screenings as a means for downstream cost-savings through the prevention of births of individuals with certain genetic conditions.

Moreover, genetic counselors’ desire for absolute neutrality ties closely with the need to adopt a non-directive approach with patients, obscuring the intrinsically directive nature of everything said and done in patient interactions. This connection can be traced back to post-WWII geneticists’ efforts to distance themselves from eugenics, despite perpetuating comparable ideologies under the guise of neutrality. The norm to remain apolitical perpetuates self-censorship, impeding the field’s ability to openly confront its connections with eugenics.

The impossibility of neutrality 

Acknowledging personal political beliefs becomes a crucial aspect of a genetic counselor’s professional journey and our interactions with colleagues. As Lewis Wallace, a transgender reporter, asserts in his piece titled “Objectivity Is Dead And I’m Okay With It,” neutrality is not real, particularly for people with marginalized identities who cannot remain neutral or centrist in debates concerning their own humanity. Hence, the structures demanding neutrality in the face of oppression must be challenged. 

Numerous contemporary policies, such as those regarding immigration, disability and reproductive rights, racial justice, education, LGBTQIA+ rights, colonialism, imperialism, and more, directly impact how we show up in our professional lives. Policies can impede our capacity to pursue a career, such as when they impact visa status, restrict access to safe and inclusive work environments, or perpetuate discriminatory practices such as anti-transgender legislation.

The politicization of religious and ethnic identities to justify violence exposes individuals to bigotry, threatening their safety and sense of belonging. Politics can profoundly affect mental and physical well-being, as evidenced by US-funded genocide in Gaza and settler colonial violence in the occupied West Bank, leading to distress and safety concerns among Palestinian genetic counselors as well as allies that speak out against these atrocities. In such instances, neutrality serves oppressors, demanding marginalized individuals to suppress their emotions and well-being to conform to “professionalism” standards, which expect silence amid oppression.

The burden of representation and palatability

Standards of professionalism carry oppressive ideologies favoring white supremacy. Professionalism traditionally reflects the cultural norms, behaviors, and traits of the dominant social group, often represented by straight, cisgender, non-disabled white men in the broader field of medicine in the US, or women in genetic counseling. Consequently, professionalism tends to be assessed primarily among those who are racially minoritized, queer, gender-diverse, and disabled. An expectation of professionalism entails the ability to collaborate with others – even if those people say and do awful things. This creates an environment of dealing with microaggressions and discrimination quietly and laying low when witnessing bigoted conversations. 

In navigating political dynamics, genetic counselors often encounter challenges with colleagues tied to respectability politics, a phenomenon where individuals from marginalized groups feel compelled to conform to mainstream expectations to gain social acceptance. Additionally, the pitfalls of “whataboutisms” arise, deflecting from the core issues at hand by pointing to separate problems or situations. This tactic often undermines meaningful discussions about systemic problems, diverting attention from the pressing need for change. 

The pursuit of “palatability” within diversity, equity, and inclusion work can paradoxically prioritize the comfort of the oppressor over meaningful progress. Efforts to make conversations or initiatives more palatable risk diluting the urgency and discomfort inherent in addressing systemic issues. Individuals with minoritized identities often find themselves assuming the role of ambassadors for their communities. As they navigate professional spaces, they become de facto representatives, sharing the responsibility of dispelling stereotypes and fostering understanding. This burden is a consequence of existing in spaces where diversity is limited.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Integrating our personal, political, and professional selves

True progress in social justice work demands confronting challenging truths, dismantling entrenched power structures, and prioritizing the voices of marginalized communities over the comfort of those with privilege. Achieving this necessitates a deep understanding of one’s own privileges through an intersectional lens

Without reflecting on the underlying reasons that necessitate our need to maintain objectivity while upholding the status quo, genetic counselors jeopardize their ability to engage in nuanced conversations with colleagues and patients. Staying engaged in global affairs is essential for genetic counselors to confront their personal biases and improve patient care.

Trusting ourselves and our colleagues to bring their authentic, political selves to professional spaces promotes meaningful dialogue and mutual understanding. The myth of apolitical neutrality acts as a barrier to recognizing the complexity of human experiences among colleagues and within ourselves. As we navigate the paradox of remaining apolitical in a world where identities are inherently political, genetic counselors must consistently question the root cause of their need for neutrality.

The opinions expressed in this article are solely our own and do not reflect the views and opinions of our employers.

Authors: 

*Ambreen Khan, MS, CGC (she/her) works as a laboratory genetic counselor and a grassroots community organizer. A bilingual Muslim individual of Pakistani descent, Ambreen follows her passion of increasing access to equitable genetic services locally and globally, through educational talks, social media content, and research. 

*Kimberly Zayhowski, MS, CGC (she/her) works as an assistant professor and research genetic counselor. A queer and multiracial individual, Kim is dedicated to advocating against oppression in genetic counseling research, education, and practice.

*Names in alphabetical order. These authors have contributed equally to this work. 

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The Wonderful Messiness of Genetic Counseling

In his poem American Sonnet Billy Collins compares a sonnet to “furrows in a small, carefully plowed field.” Classical sonnets are tidily structured works that more or less follow a format of 14 lines, often in rhyme, the last two of which offer a resolution to the problem or question set forth in the earlier lines.* The strictures and structure of a sonnet and the image of a plowed and furrowed field makes me think of how genetic counselors try to neatly organize genetic counseling sessions. The templated counseling notes we produce afterwards – some version of Patient Identification, Medical History, Family History, Counseling Provided, Summary and Recommendations – reinforce the idea of a structured session as well as the sonnet metaphor.

We try to impose structure, for reasons both good and not so good. In many clinical positions, most patients are coming to us with a handful of similar indications such that we wind up saying more or less the same things over and over, especially when we carry large patient loads. My roteness would become clear to me when a patient “interrupted” me with a question about something else altogether and I would forget where I was in my game plan. I was not listening to the message the patient was sending – they were not much interested in what I was talking about and they wanted to discuss something more important to them. Genetic counselors, with our professional insecurities, also subconsciously want to impress others with our arcane knowledge and prove that we can make an important contribution to the health and medical care of patients and their families. This manifests itself most acutely during the early stages of a career, when we are still slightly unsure of ourselves and are trying to establish a firm professional footing and reputation. But even wise veterans can get caught up in this style, including and particularly me (well, not anymore, now that I’ve converted to my favorite religion – Reitrementism).

While acknowledging the important role that numbers and information play in genetic counseling and patient care, a counseling session is at its core a psychological interaction between human beings. It took me – no kidding – a couple thousand counseling sessions before I even started to become a good genetic counselor and adapted my counseling to the basic psychological truth that the human mind usually expresses its emotional self in a non-linear manner. I knew this on a cognitive level but it took me years to actually incorporate this insight into my practice. To paraphrase Maya Angelou, people won’t remember what you said but they will never forget how you made them feel.


What does this mean in actual genetic counseling practice? I’m not advocating for omitting facts and figures or abandoning an over-arching loose structure. A counseling session should have a beginning and ending, and complex biomedical information often needs to be imparted. You can start out with a highly flexible plan of issues and information you think should be covered while at the same time be very willing to modify the plan or abandon it altogether to meet the unique needs of each patient. It might begin with a query as to what the patient wants to get out of the session, though some patients are better at articulating that than others and some just aren’t sure of what they want. But however you start, you need to be prepared for traveling with the patient as they veer off in often unclear directions that are sometimes different than what the patient originally articulated. Structure, numbers, information – they are so comforting and comfortable to us, like Collins’ neatly furrowed fields. But the safe zone of an organized educational format can make us hesitant to explore the unplowed fields of the patient’s psyche.

What we can discover in those unfurrowed fields is what is important to patients, why it is important, and how it influences the way patients makes sense of complex biomedical information and what they should do with it. Fear of going through treatment for cancer after having watched their parent’s body ravaged by chemotherapy. Anger at an employer for creating an emotionally or physically toxic workspace and attributing their cardiomyopathy to this environment. A deep belief in “natural cures” that is being challenged by their lack of efficacy in treating their child’s illness. Feelings of abandonment and resentment toward a parent who died when the patient was an adolescent and who is now a parent of an adolescent themselves. Fear of having a child with a disability. A marriage adrift on two different seas. Distrust of medical practitioners stemming from having been treated disrespectfully in past encounters. All of the technical information can be so damn scary they don’t want to talk about recurrence risks or the chances of getting cancer or variants of uncertain significance, at least not right away and not by listening to what sound like a verbal spreadsheet. Genetic counseling is supposed to make the patient feel emotionally safe, not the counselor.

What this requires is actually attending to what the patient is saying or asking, especially if it has little to do with what you are discussing. You don’t want to briefly comment on what sounds like a non-sequitur from the patient and then return to the safety of your comfortable structure. Following the patient’s lead can result in a session which travels in several different seemingly unconnected directions (Why is the patient going off at this angle?), loops back on itself several times (Hmm, why does the patient keep coming back to that?), or has you probing the patient with questions neither of you had anticipated (“And so you’re saying MRIs are scary to you because you have claustrophobia and you’ve also read that the MRI’s magnetic field is thousands of times stronger than the earth’s magnetic field at its surface, and that’s why you are reluctant to undergo hereditary cancer testing?”). It can become a near stream of consciousness session that resembles James Joyce’s Ulysses more than Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s tenderly romantic How Do I Love Thee?. Joyce’s novel begins with the famous opening line that seems to presage a typical narrative – “Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed.” – then quickly changes tone and explores the depths of the minds of the novel’s characters and ends with Molly Bloom pouring out her innermost thoughts in an unpunctuated iambic-pentameter-be-damned eight sentence ~22,000 word uninhibited and unfiltered soliloquy. Kinda’ like a counseling session can go (Nothing against Barrett Browning. She is a marvelous poet; just a different style than Joyce’s).

James Joyce statue, Dublin, Ireland https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Joyce

I don’t know how AI chatbots will play out in the genetic counseling arena and how they might influence the structure of genetic counseling sessions. It seems possible that they might one day be capable of carrying out a psychologically sophisticated interaction with a patient that matches a counselor’s skill set as well as taking into account the patient’s socioeconomic situation, though I suspect not in the immediate future and hopefully not until the ethical issues have been addressed (for an amusing take on chatbots and genetic counselors, check out my post Genetic Counselor Reinvented). My bigger immediate concern is that administrators will simply see chatbots as a replacement for genetic counselors rather than as an ancillary tool for genetic counseling. Or that administrators will employ a strategy that employs both genetic counselors and chatbots but increases counselors’ patient loads on the premises that chatbots are doing a lot of the work and so you can fit more sessions into a counselor’s schedule. This ignores the emotional toll on genetic counselors who work with patients in stressful situations and will likely lead to counselor burnout and poorer quality patient care.

The potential and concerns about AI aside for now, the semi-chaotic session is often more valuable to patients than the biomedical lecture. Yeah, it can look and sound like a mess and be just as dense and difficult to understand as Ulysses. But that mess is where the beauty of the patient’s mind lies. Which is why we need to use our counseling skills to sort through the mess and understand the psychological meaning of the patient’s words, beliefs, actions, and choices. Hence the wonderful messiness of genetic counseling.

The Brain — is wider than the Sky —
For — put them side by side —
The one the other will contain
With ease — and You — beside —
by Emily Dickinson

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  • Over the centuries, poets have played with the format of the sonnet to breathe new life into it, such as Wanda Coleman’s American Sonnet 91 and other of her decidedly non-linear poems that explore race and racism in America.







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Guest Post: New year, new name?

by Misha Raskin

At the recent annual conference for the National Society of Genetic Counselors (NSGC) in Chicago, there was a spirited debate about whether or not to change the genetic counselor name. An alternate name was not presented, but below is a word cloud of proposed alternate names which DNA Exchange author Bob Resta shared in his recent blog post, where he decided to decline supporting a name change. 

An informal poll that was circulated after the debate found that a significant percentage of genetic counselors were also wary of pursuing a name change. 

For those who have not seen the debate, there were two primary tensions between the “pro change” side and the “pro same” side. The “pro change” side argued that changing our profession’s name could bolster NSGCs Justice, Equity, Diversity and Inclusion (J.E.D.I.) action plan (https://www.nsgc.org/JEDI), theorizing that possibly one of the reasons that genetic counseling is less diverse than many other professions is that our name creates a branding and recruitment problem. The “pro same” side brought up that if we genetic counselors change our name, then we’d need to update all of our state licenses, plus the language in our pending legislation to have Medicare recognize genetic counselors. Mr. Resta agreed that these issues were also an important factor to consider. The pro-same side also brought up that Physician Assistants are currently changing their name to Physician Associate, and that the associated cost of their name change is estimated at approximately $22 million, which would obviously be a staggering expenditure for an organization like NSGC. 

Looking further at the “pro change” perspective, NSGC has rightly committed itself to implementing a successful J.E.D.I. Action Plan. Diverse teams provide better clinical care, better research, and build better businesses, all sectors where genetic counselors commonly contribute. Competing for diverse talent is in many ways the competition for the future. In a white paper published by the consultancy McKinsey in 2020, titled “Diversity Wins: How Inclusion Matters,” they outline the many ways that more gender and racially diverse organizations consistently outperform their less diverse competition, and argue for a greater focus on multivariate diversity (meaning “going beyond gender and ethnicity”). Currently, genetic counseling is among the least ethnically diverse fields in healthcare. We genetic counselors have an enormous amount to gain from a successful J.E.D.I. initiative. Over the long-term, perhaps far more than $22 million worth of benefit, if such a thing could be calculated. So, if strong evidence emerged that changing our name would substantially improve NSGCs odds of a successful J.E.D.I. program, then it’s prudent to consider this option with an open mind.  We can’t just say that we’ll implement a J.E.D.I. program “unless it’s challenging or expensive,” right? If NSGCs J.E.D.I. initiative is a priority, then we should prioritize it. And maybe, there isn’t as much sacrifice as the “pro same” side implies. 

Let’s also assess the state licensure argument more closely. There are lots of state licenses for all sorts of fields (see here and here for more info). Millions of people have state licenses all over the United States, including licenses for athletic trainers, auctioneers, and barbers, to name a few. So as a political matter, getting a state government to issue a professional license is often a manageable process. That’s why NSGC has approximately 35 state licenses. Importantly, a name change is drastically easier to navigate through a legislative body than a whole new license. Legislative bodies often use a “consent agenda” to take care of matters that are considered “technical and non-controversial.” It’s hard to imagine a piece of legislation that is more “technical and non-controversial” than changing the name on the genetic counselor license, as long as we don’t trigger a turf war by calling ourselves something like “doctor” or “geneticist.” In some states, we might even be able to get a name change done with volunteers, no lobbyists needed. And even in the states where we would need lobbyists and perhaps the consent agenda isn’t an option, this should not represent particularly expensive lobbying. If we genetic counselors decided to change our name, it would indeed require volunteer work to amend our state licenses, and it would have associated financial costs, but this is hardly an insurmountable hurdle – and one well worth jumping over to accomplish NSGCs Justice, Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion goals. 

Next, let’s investigate the argument that a name change could hamper our efforts on Medicare recognition. Medicare is a massive and expensive federal program, and while there are different ways to calculate it, many legislators believe that recognizing a new provider, such as a genetic counselor, would represent a cost to a program that is already too expensive. So, unlike a state license, getting the United States Congress to recognize a new provider under Medicare is politically extremely difficult. In fact, after nearly two decades of effort, NSGC still hasn’t made any substantial progress on Medicare recognition, which in the context of this debate (and really only in the context of this debate), is actually a good thing. We haven’t even made it through the House or Senate. So, our lack of Medicare recognition at the present time argues in favor of exploring a name change, not the other way around, since our bill is still going through a process where amendments are common anyway. 

To summarize, the benefits and costs of changing the genetic counselor title have not yet been fully flushed out. The debate at NSGC, while very thought provoking, was a starting-off point. We need to identify the best contender for an alternate name, and assess the benefits the alternate name is likely to generate. Perhaps the right name could both bolster the J.E.D.I. action plan and improve our prospects of gaining Medicare recognition, by better succinctly representing a genetic counselor’s value to the healthcare system. In parallel, we need to understand what the costs would be specifically for genetic counselors, as opposed to using Physician Assistants (I mean, Associates) as a proxy. PAs can already bill Medicare, have a different scope of practice, there are about 150 thousand of them in the United States, and there are likely many other differences. While their experience is of course informative, they are not a reasonable proxy. Once we have a better sense of what a name change would mean specifically for genetic counselors, then we can weigh the estimated benefits of the identified new name against the estimated costs. Importantly, when assessing the costs, we shouldn’t only ask lobbyists who expect to bill us for their services, as they have an obvious financial conflict of interest. 

A successful J.E.D.I. program was always going to require substantial work, cost money, require new ideas, and require openness to meaningful change. Changing the genetic counselor name would indeed require NSGCs political operation to put in effort, but what is the point of having a political operation if we’re afraid to interface with the political system? If we can’t identify a new name that would propel NSGC’s J.E.D.I program, then it’s not worth the cost and effort. But I strongly support researching a new name further, and politically speaking, if we can’t handle a name change to a state license, then we can’t handle much of anything. And a name change may be easier than Mr. Resta’s charming idea that we convince George Clooney and a major network to launch a TV show about genetic counselors that’s as successful as the Sopranos. 

There’s a lot of tricky questions that arise that aren’t touched on in this piece. A name change would need to be a slow and thoughtfully planned process – staffing, volunteers, timing, budgets, and not to mention the new name itself.  There are likely other costs that haven’t been identified yet. We might not even like the new name, but remember, it’s not for the majority of current genetic counselors – it’s for the future of genetic counseling. 

Misha Rashkin has been a genetic counselor for 10 years. He is a clinician and specializes in oncology. He has a longstanding interest in the ethical and legal issues of genetic testing, particularly the Genetic Information Non-discrimination Act (GINA).

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Change My Name, Change My Name?

At the recent NSGC Annual Conference, Carla McGruder chaired a sparkling plenary session titled “Say My Name, Say My Name”during which panelists debated the pros and cons of the professional title Genetic Counselor (there was widespread disappointment that Beyoncé did not make a guest appearance). The general sense I got from the debate was that there was enthusiasm for a name change and that a new professional title may ultimately prove to be destiny’s child, but for now no one offered a particularly winning alternative (see below word cloud from the session). Perhaps unsurprisingly, nobody brought up my two biggest long-standing concerns about the genetic counselor title. One is that the oft-used abbreviation of GC for genetic counselor is also the abbreviation used for gonococcus bacteria (though then again it could also more appropriately suggest guanine and cytosine). My other concern is that we should more properly be called genetics counselors; genetic counselor without the “s” at the end of genetic makes it sound like being a counselor is a hereditary condition, the result of some likely pathologic variant. I am pretty sure, too, that lots of genetic counselors in Canada, the UK, Australia, and some other countries would prefer everyone spell it “genetic counsellor.”

Word Cloud for suggested alternative professional titles for genetic counselors, from “Say My Name, Say My Name” panel discussion at the NSGC’s 42nd Annual Conference in Chicago, October 20, 2023. Reproduced with kind permission of session chair Carla McGruder, MS, CGC.

Debate about what to call ourselves has surfaced with some regularity since the profession was birthed a half-century ago at Sarah Lawrence College, and in a journal article by Jehannine Austin and their group at the University of British Columbia, as well as being the subject of two prior DNA Exchange postings, one by my DNA Exchange colleague Allie Janson Hazell and one by me. I suspect that currently the name debate is driven by the profession’s expansion into so many new employment niches, many of which do not involve direct patient care. It may also be influenced by the increasing trend of the profession defining itself – and being defined by other health professionals – in relation to genetic testing.

Let me state my biases up front. I am opposed to a name change, at least until you can show me something better that will justify the very extensive, expensive, and intensive efforts of introducing a new name and eliminating an old one. Of course, my biases are partially driven by being an Old School GC, having graduated in the Late Neolithic Period of genetic counseling, back in 1983. There’s always the attitude of “Damn it, the way I was taught is the right way.” And even if someone comes up with a better job title, I will still likely go to my grave calling myself a genetic counselor. But my personal hang-ups and emotional reactions aside, let’s take a look at some of the pro arguments and why I think they fall short.

One of the pro arguments for a name change centers on lack of public awareness of just what a genetic counselor is or does. Yeah don’t we all know that one! I can’t disagree with this point. But changing our name will not in and of itself improve public awareness or visibility. The alternative names are equally or more ambiguous. Patients will probably react with uncertainty to titles that include the likes of analyst or consultant or specialist (to name just three) and it will do nothing to clarify how we might help and serve them.

While acknowledging the general lack of public knowledge about genetic counselors, we have nonetheless made remarkable progress in increasing awareness of the job title, both with patients and healthcare providers. The below Google Ngram, with all of its limitations, gives a rough idea of how much awareness of genetic counselors has increased since Sheldon Reed christened us in the 1940s, with the ambiguous but reasonably accurate definition of “a kind of genetic social work.” A lot of that progress can get lost if you eliminate the genetic counselor title.

If you really want to improve public awareness, you have to think beyond name changes and PR campaigns. Look at what the Dr. Jennifer Melfi character in The Sopranos did for publicity for therapists. What we need is a successful streaming series about genetic counselors, complete with gratuitous sex and nudity (we can hold off on the violence; there’s more than enough of that to go around in the world these days). I can picture the genetic counseling show’s log line: “Family Lines” – Follow the professional challenges, joys, tragedies, and dilemmas as well as the complicated personal lives of young, attractive, ethnically and gender-diverse genetic counselors as they graduate from their training programs and experience the impact of genetic conditions on their patient’s lives and families as well as on the counselors’ own psyches. Starring George Clooney as the dashing veteran Robert “Bob” Resta whose efforts to guide this gaggle of counselors throughout their careers are undermined by his own very human failings. Consider running the credits over a background of a pedigree being drawn to highlight the commonly used genetic counseling tool and to evoke the name of the show.

Proponents of a name change quite rightly claim that the term “counselor” doesn’t reflect what many genetic counselors actually do in their day-to-day work. Genetic Counselor does not capture the essence of a Variant Analyst, Professional Support Specialist, Product Development Manager, Program Administrator, Researcher, or Medical Science Liaison. But, according to the 2023 NSGC Professional Status Survey, 71% of genetic counselors are involved with full or part-time direct patient care. This suggests that a significant majority of us are actively engaged in genetic counseling on a regular basis, so it makes sense to call us genetic counselors.

Besides, the proposed alternatives capture an even smaller range of what genetic counselors do for a living or otherwise sell our skill set short. For example, one of the suggested alternatives is something along the lines of Genetic or Genomic Information Specialist. It strikes me that the word “Information” misses a critical insight into the human psyche. It isn’t so much the information that’s communicated that is key as it is the way that each person’s mind uniquely interprets that information and integrates it into their lives. this is where counseling skills come in, which, for my money, is what sets the profession apart and makes it uniquely valuable. It gives us a professional identity unlike any other genetics profession or specialty. The value of counseling and communication skills is acknowledged by many genetic counselors employed in non-direct patient care positions, who often claim that their counseling and communication skills have been key in enabling them to expand into their new roles. They are still using basic genetic counseling skills, just in a different context.

Furthermore, I would argue that the very ambiguity inherent in the genetic counseling title is what has allowed us to grow our professional roles. Other professional titles might not provide the flexibility to expand into new and exciting roles. If employers are not exactly sure of what we do, it allows us create new roles that other providers don’t have the knowledge base or skill set to match. As Ed Kloza – who has pretty much witnessed the entire history of the profession first hand – sagely pointed out at the microphone at the “Say My Name, Say My Name” session, the title genetic counselor has gotten us pretty far professionally since the 1970s. Just how has it limited us?

A decidedly practical drawback to changing our professional title lies in the bureaucratic underpinnings necessary to maintain the life of a profession. It’s not just a name that can simply be eliminated by a search-and-replace function. The title Genetic Counselor is written into state licensure laws, pending federal legislation to make genetic counselors recognized Medicare providers in the US, and other countries’ equivalents of licensure. To say nothing of changing job titles by every employer of genetic counselors, the names of a half dozen or so professional organizations, a journal title, and a PubMed search term, to name a few. This could potentially be achieved but you need a very, very compelling reason to expend all that energy, time, and money doing so.

It will be interesting to see what what happens with the job title in countries where the genetic counseling profession is just establishing itself – such as India, the Philippines, and the Middle East. Local circumstances, medical practice, and cultural preferences may wind up generating some very different names and professional practices. But I suspect that they may also want to stick with the genetic counselor title to capitalize on the remarkable progress the profession has made in the US, the UK, Canada, Australia, and elsewhere. The practice and profession may look a bit different around the globe, but they will still be recognizable as genetic counselors and not as something else.

Perhaps too, it is time to reconsider the 2006 standard definition of genetic counseling. While I happen to be a champion of that definition, my professional conflict of interest is that I helped craft it. The current generation of genetic counselors should not necessarily have to rely on a definition created by a previous generation if it no longer captures the essence of genetic counseling. This could have bearing on whether we should choose a new professional title.

For now, though, Genetic Counselor may be a less than perfect name but it is closer to perfect than the proposed alternatives. Give me powerful reasons to think otherwise, and I will change my mind. Until then – Change my name? Nah.

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Eulogy for a clinic

by Jehannine Austin

My professional life up till this point has been centered around a mission to bring genetic counseling to people who – like me – live with psychiatric conditions, and their families. This has been my mission for >20 years, since my family started asking me about whether psychiatric conditions were genetic and what this meant for us while I was doing my PhD on this topic. Realizing that it wasn’t just my family that had these questions and that no-one was really addressing them is what drove me to train as a genetic counselor. Once I completed my genetic counseling training in 2003, no one would hire me to provide genetic counseling for families with psychiatric conditions. Of course, psychiatric conditions have always been profoundly disenfranchised in terms of health services, but as well, there was no evidence that people with psychiatric conditions wanted genetic counseling, and no evidence that it could help. So, this drove me into research. 

I landed a research professorship and my team and I generated data showing that: 

  1. people with psychiatric conditions wanted access to genetic counseling 
  2. genetic counseling helps people with psychiatric conditions 

In 2012, on the strength of these data, we established the Adapt clinic – the world’s first specialist psychiatric genetic counseling clinic. It was all about helping people understand the factors that contribute to developing a psychiatric condition, and how to use this understanding to engage in self-management strategies to protect their mental health for the future. It was about helping people to make meaning, and understand that psychiatric illness is not your fault, and not your fate. 

In 2023, after 11 years of helping patients, training students, generating research data about the impact of what we do, and providing a model for psychiatric genetic counseling services around the world, our service is being closed.

I’ve fought this with everything I have because it feels so wrong. But I’m so bone tired …and there’s literally nothing more I can do. It’s over.

No amount of data demonstrating the awesome outcomes that patients experience (increases in empowerment, changes in behavior to engage in self-management strategies to protect their mental health) after receiving our services has swayed the decision. So, this is a eulogy.

The webpage for the clinic has silently ceased to exist. 

The reason given for the death of the Adapt clinic? To redeploy the counselors to provide service for general genetics patients because the waitlist there is so long. It’s apparently that simple. And pointing out that this is classic disenfranchisement of people with psychiatric conditions – again, people like me – has made no impact. I may as well be speaking to a wall. 

Now, as someone who has served as a leader myself in a publicly funded healthcare setting, I do of course understand that we are forced to make decisions about how to allocate scant resources. And sometimes people might not like the choices we make. I understand that. My objection is that the Adapt clinic embodies (has embodied) all of the principles and values claimed to be held dear by the healthcare system that is closing it. That is what I find distressing.

Initially, when I saw the writing on the wall that the clinic would be closed, I was devastated- this was my life’s work, I thought. And it’s been for nothing, my internal voice said…I am a failure. I lost all energy to continue in my efforts to leave things better in the world than I had found them. Because, what is the point? I – and the counselors within it – gave the Adapt clinic everything we had, it was demonstrably successful, and yet it is still being closed….it felt like it was all for nothing.

But this narrative is wrong. I can see that I am not a failure, and that the clinic was not a failure. Instead, the clinic, and the counselors within it, and the patients we serve, have all been failed by the system we are in. 

Our efforts were not for nothing. The Adapt clinic has helped about 1400 patients and trained over 50 students, some focused on clinical skills, some focused on research skills, and some both. We published about 20 papers that are out there in the world that explain the difference that psychiatric genetic counseling can make for people, and how to do it well. I know that we have inspired practicing genetic counselors around the world as well as students…we have inspired people to train in this discipline. I know this because people have been gracious enough to tell me about how our work has affected them.

Given all this, you have to ask, why is the clinic dead?  I think there are two real answers to that. First, psychiatric conditions are still so stigmatized. People with mental illness – like me – have a long and awful history of being disenfranchised, and here we see it again: an evidence-based service for people with psychiatric conditions cut, despite data showing that it’s needed and it helps. And yet it’s cut so that we can prioritize providing services for people with non-psychiatric indications. 

Second, the genetic counseling services we provide for people with psychiatric conditions typically don’t involve genetic testing. And though the service helps people, the health system decision-makers don’t value genetic counseling when there’s no genetic testing being done. The psychotherapeutic work we do is not valued …which is truly the hardest thing for me to swallow, because data show that it’s exactly this that makes the difference even when genetic testing *is* available. It’s the counseling that helps people. 

So, yes, this is a eulogy — a public expression of pain and grief and disillusionment about the death of a clinic whose establishment was the culmination of >10 years of my work, that we nurtured successfully for 11 years, and that brought purpose to my life and a way to channel my own experience of psychiatric illness to help others. It’s so hard to build and create something new and innovative, and so very easy to destroy it. It does feel like a death. 

My biggest fear is that others will stop trying to establish psychiatric genetic counseling clinics in other jurisdictions as a result of this. People – like me- who have psychiatric conditions deserve better than this. So please keep pushing. Others have taken up the mantle – there’s a clinic in Cardiff, and Tennessee, and others (if you know of others, please tell me!)… I’m rooting for all of you. Please let me know how I can help. 

But I think this reflects broader issues too – I think as a profession, we have to answer some questions for ourselves. Are we happy with being reduced to roles as the purveyors of genetic testing? And only post-test counseling at that? This is the direction in which we are headed. Medical genetics departments with long and growing waitlists often respond by simply reducing the list of indications to make fewer people eligible to access genetics services.  That’s exactly what happened to the Adapt clinic — the eligibility criteria for access to genetics services shrank to exclude our patients. What happens to these patients? It’s not that they get service elsewhere – they don’t. The people who make these decisions are deciding who gets care — deciding who matters. This is an issue that relates to equity and justice. 

In writing this eulogy for the clinic that I created and loved, my purpose is to try to use its death for something positive. Given our increasing focus on the importance of EDI issues, I would like to suggest that this is an opportunity to question whether tertiary-care clinical genetics is the right location for genetic counselors if we are to be able to provide just and equitable access to our services for people who need them. Situating genetic counseling services in alternative locations, such as primary care/family practice, might be worth considering as a way to ensure our ability to practice to the top of our scope, to offer more than just genetic testing (like psychiatric genetic counseling), and to ensure more equitable access for patients. 

I hope that the end of Adapt can be used as an impetus for the start of something new. If the Adapt clinic has impacted you in some way, those of us who nurtured it would love to hear about it in the replies, or by message. 

Some of my fave quotes from people who had psychiatric genetic counseling in the Adapt clinic (from Semaka et al 2019):

“Until genetic counseling, no one ever coherently explained to me why I have a mental illness. And I think that’s a conversation that needs to be had because most people just think they’re having a bad time of it or they just think that they just need to try harder”

“I felt in control, you know [psychiatric genetic counseling] made me feel more empowered than I did when I walked in and I think for me that’s a big deal… I just felt after the appointment I had more tools to control my life.”

“[Psychiatric genetic counseling] gets rid of some of the shame…. with mental illness, it’s so hard to know what you did wrong but really you didn’t do anything wrong and [psychiatric genetic counseling] just explains that to you… so you’re able to look at this and think, ‘OK, this isn’t my fault’”. 

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I Can’t Unsee Jar Jar Binks in the NSGC’s DEIJ Presence

by Justin Lorentz

Justin Lorentz is a certified genetic counselor who graduated from McGill University in 2012. He spent 8 years working in cancer genetics at Sunnybrook Hospital in Toronto, Canada where he developed an academic interest in prostate cancer genetics. He now works at Sunnybrook one day a week leading their Familial Prostate Cancer Clinic. Justin spends the rest of his time at Medcan, a Canadian preventive healthcare clinic offering proactive genetic testing, pharmacogenomic testing, carrier screening, NIPT, and healthy whole genome sequencing.

Two years ago, I saw the NSGC rebrand a pillar acronym for DEI initiatives into a pillar franchise: Star Wars, and more specifically, their JEDI. This was at a time when J for Justice was starting to be included in many Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) committees. Most committees threw the J on the end. The NSGC did not, and on April 8th, 2021, the NSGC released an introduction to the J.E.D.I. Committee. The potential of the Star Wars franchise reference to trivialize the efforts of the committee was brought up in the publication, but the post argued JEDI is easier to say and through “listening and conversation with others” a vote was struck up with the committee to settle on their name: the J.E.D.I Committee.

And the NSGC was not alone. The American Association of Geographers, Big Brothers and Big Sisters of America, heck, The Canadian Psychological Association all have a JEDI, and many JEDI committees lean into it, lightsabers, and all.

But something about the J.E.D.I. acronym never sat right with me. I remember thinking, imagine if the letters DEIJ magically spelled out MUGGLE, and the NSGC’s DEIJ committee adopted the M.U.G.G.L.E acronym instead. What would happen to that committee’s name after J.K. Rowling would go on to make her TERFstatements on trans women? Rebranding DEIJ to a franchise is risky because you have no control over how that franchise’s brand can evolve. It’s begging for a PR problem. But even more so, what do Harry Potter and Muggles have to do with DEIJ or genetic counseling? If the answer is nothing, then the risk of rebranding DEIJ into something it isn’t is not worth it to me.

Over the years of seeing the J.E.D.I. acronym on NSGC updates in my Gmail inbox and on Twitter, my thoughts on the J.E.D.I. acronym for a DEIJ initiative started maturing. I debated whether my issues were worth publicly expressing until I came across this Scientific American article which summed up my growing concerns, and more. 

After dwelling long enough I decided my need to express my opinion more loudly. I agree with the NSGC DEIJ Committee’s initial instincts that the J.E.D.I. acronym does trivialize the DEIJ Committee, but to me that just scratches the surface. When you dig but a little deeper, you realize that JEDI has its own meaning, a controversial history, and a diehard fan base. It not only distracts from DEIJ work, but I think the word JEDI opposes DEIJ work, not just for our professional organization, but for any organization.

There’s a lot to think about and you need to know about the Star Wars franchise to really put it all together. I realized this as I ran this DNA Exchange blog post by my partner, who has never seen media from the Star Wars franchise. Although it’s probably safe to assume most people attuned to Western culture know what a Jedi is, the more you learn about Jedi and their Order, the more problematic it all becomes as the title for any DEIJ work.

In case you’re someone who does not feel included in my previous assumption that most folks know what a Jedi is, let me sample Merriam-Webster to do the definition justice, so we’re on an equal playing field. *Nerd mode activated* Jedi are a very select group of monk-like galactic warrior/priests, both humans (the historic stars are white cis-gender males) and alien (Yoda), who are proficient with melee weapons called lightsabers. They’re all born with a seemingly inherited wealth of abilities including accessing and manipulating a spiritual/cosmic energy called The Force to perform supernatural feats like levitation and the famous Jedi mind trick (Eek! There’s NSGC J.E.D.I. Action Plan Task Force – How many other communications from the J.E.D.I. committee could/have become unintentionally conflated with trivializing aspects of the Star Wars franchise?).

Jediism, like Scientology, has made its way from the sci-fi world into the real world. In 2005 the Temple of the Jedi Order was registered in Texas and was granted federal income tax exemption by the IRS in 2015. The Church of Jediism purportedly boasts up to 500,000 members worldwide. Although faith is an important part of a patient’s values and decision making, the genetic counseling profession is not aligned or defined by any one faith, especially not this one. It’s a bit out there, but the NSGC’s J.E.D.I. Committee is sharing a brand with Jediism, even if it is in name only. 

Let’s explore the idea of a PR problem further – what happens when the Star Wars franchise comes under scrutiny? More importantly, what if the scrutiny is DEIJ related? 

Law and Philosophy professor Patricia Williams wrote a very compelling article called Racial Ventriloquism in 1999 after Episode I: The Phantom Menace came out. Here she highlights racist depictions of two alien characters from the Star Wars franchise: one popular, one more forgettable (until now).

Exhibit A) Jar Jar Binks: He’s a Gungan, an amphibious alien species with a frog-like face. He’s portrayed a little less clever than the average alien, panicky, having poor judgement, and being clumsy. He is the main source of comic relief and he and his species share a characteristic jovial, swaying saunter complete with a striking West African, Caribbean, and African American linguistic style. Patricia quotes a few phrases here to jog your memory if you haven’t heard him talk in a while: “You-sa Jedi not all you-sa cracked up to be.” “Me berry berry scay-yud.” “We-sa goin in da wah-tah, okeyday?”. 

Exhibit B) Watto: He’s a Toydarian, a potbellied alien with insect like wings and a large nose like a tapir. He’s portrayed as a money-obsessed junk dealer and slaver. His accent seems Middle Eastern, and Patricia notes he bears eerie resemblance in shape and clothing to a cartoon published in Austria’s antisemitic Kikeriki magazine, right down to the hat.

These are two examples of many controversial aspects of the Star Wars franchise brought up over the twenty-four years since the release of Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace. Admittedly I forgot aspects of these controversies and it took researching them to realize the incredible depth of the problem. I’ll be honest, I wouldn’t expect anyone to be digging into the racial allusions the Star Wars franchise had made over 20 years ago when considering using J.E.D.I. in 2021, but now that we’re here I think we can all agree it’s hard to unsee.

And what about now? It’s not only the Star Wars franchise that’s racially controversial, but also some of its fanbase. Take the more recent racist backlash of Star Wars fans when the now Disney+ owned Star Wars franchise introduced Moses Ingram, a Black female Sith-like antagonist in the Obi-Wan Kenobi series released last year in 2022. Unfortunately, she’s not alone; other actors have faced similar racist attacks:

  • Ahmed Best (Black actor who played Jar Jar Binks) that was so persistent he contemplated suicide
  • Kelly Marie Tran (Asian actor who played Rose Tico) in The Last Jedi and The Rise of Skywalker
  • John Adedayo Bamidele Adegboyega (Black actor who played Finn) in The Force AwakensThe Last Jedi, and The Rise of Skywalker.

It’s debatable whether this reflects poorly on the Star Wars franchise per se, but what it does show is the franchise attracted fans who expect something of the franchise, fans who have their own preconceived beliefs of what they want lead characters in this Jedi series to look like.

How are we feeling after all of this? What are you thinking about right now? Are you seeing the word Jedi through a different lens?

I am.

For me, Jedi, and the Star Wars franchise that birthed Jedi, do not have a place in any DEIJ committee due to Star Wars’ bizarre religious movement, racial controversies, and certain members of their fanbase with strong opinions on the diverse direction the franchise is trying to tale. The word Jedi carries a lot of its own baggage and its own meaning.

To me, DEIJ means what it is: Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, Justice. It may not be easy to say, but neither is 2SLGBTQ+, and neither is challenging our own internal biases ingrained in us from a society built on systemic racism, sexism, ableism, and other injustices. Let’s keep DEIJ as its own important and well-established brand.

The initial reasoning for the NSGC DEIJ Committee to be called J.E.D.I. was fair for that time, and the NSGC’s newly forming DEI committee was not alone in their thought process. Knowing more at this time, I don’t think the NSGC’s J.E.D.I. Committee should continue calling itself something it isn’t. I hope the work of any DEIJ committee is nothing like the work of the Star Wars franchise or their Jedi. In fact, I feel Jedi go against DEIJ committee work. I want to see every DEIJ Committee for what it is, a hard to say acronym, making hard to do changes in what I think is one of the most important areas of development in our profession over the next few years. I think it’s time for a rebrand.

These are my thoughts – I’m interested to hear yours.

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