Kealey Griffiths, a Yuggera woman and 2024 AMA Indigenous Medical Scholarship recipient, has penned a profound and moving piece sharing her personal reflections about her aspirations in psychiatry.
Kealey Griffiths
2024 AMA Indigenous Medical Scholarship recipient
I love stories. The earliest stories I remember being told include 'How the Birds got their colours', an Aboriginal Dreamtime story my Yuggera mother would read to me as a child and 'The Itchy Bum Witch', an entirely made-up nighttime tale told over many months of bedtimes by my father. Perhaps surprisingly, both stories have shaped who I am and the way I think.
While 'The Itchy Bum Witch' may or may not have sprouted from a household dosing of Pyrantel Embonate (see: Worming Chocolate), the story wasn't really about the witch's occasional itch, although this would send my sister and I into a fit of giggles that I am sure was counterintuitive to our bedtime routine.
The story was really about her being a fierce and compassionate young woman who would fight off monsters - and princes (definitely a dad tale). Itchy Bum Witch would look after all the tiny animals of the village and her friends - she was the voice for those who could not or would not speak.
One could say that this tale still holds relevance almost two decades later. I think I am a fierce and compassionate young woman, and I hope I've been the voice that others have needed throughout my time in medical school as Indigenous chair for my university's medical society, and as First Nations representative for QLD Medical Students' Council. I'm fairly certain however, that her namesake has not carried across.
'How the Birds got their colours', as told by Mary Alberts and illustrated by Pamela Lofts, begins with a hungry dove - who is as black as night - as he dives for a worm. He misses, unfortunately, and lands upon a big stick. His foot swells and he is in great pain, until his friend, the parrot, who is also black, bursts the wound with her beak. Suddenly, colour splashes parrot, and all the onlooking birds who are worried for dove. However, crow remained far away, not interested in helping dove or being a part of the community; crow's feathers remain black to this day. This tale, which for better or for worse does not mention itchy bums, made it clear to me as a child that we are to help those in need, lest we never get our colours.
Our colours might be seen as an outcome for our contributions and efforts. I hope mine will include being accepted to the RANZCP Psychiatry Training program after I graduate medical school and finish my intern years.
I applied for medical school with the plan of becoming a psychiatrist. I had completed my undergrad, majoring in psychology, and could think of nothing more prestigious than being a psychiatrist and being able to give back to my communities. However, the stories I have been hearing about psychiatry lately are a little different than I had expected - and no, they do not include any itchy bums. After all, I am not interested in gastroenterology or colorectal surgery.
In my first year of medical school, I found myself in a local general practice clinic late in the night. I had been at a peer's birthday party and due to no involvement of my own, a friend had suffered a minor laceration to her calf from a dropped glass. The small clinic room housed a gaggle of medical students, keenly observing their friend receive a dozen or so sutures. The practitioner, acutely aware we were medical students, particularly after one friend asked to suture (to no avail), asked us what kind of doctors we wanted to be. I was quick to say I was going to be a psychiatrist. The doctor laughed and replied, "So, not a real doctor then".
While the comment was likely intended as collegial banter rather than an outright insult, it still stayed with me for a long time. It made me question what it truly means to be a 'real' doctor. What story would I be a part of if I was to become a psychiatrist? Would it be a real doctor's story?
The narrative surrounding psychiatry is complex, and as of late, it seems to have gained a stronghold in the Australian media. Psychiatry has been increasingly portrayed in a negative light, which has led to a several statements from involved communities. A statement from Dr Fred Betros, made in January 2025 while acting as AMA NSW President, sends a clear message - one I tend to agree with. The statement notes that psychiatry is "feeling the pain of an under-funded and under-resourced public health system", as are other specialities. He writes that real reform is needed, and that the "damaging rhetoric and devaluation of medical professionals must cease", that "patients deserve better".
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Indeed. Patients, and psychiatrists alike, deserve their colours.
Hearing the stories about psychiatry at a personal and systemic level has been disheartening, but I remain committed to earning my colours. I will continue to be a fierce and compassionate leader and representative of my community as a Yuggera woman. I will work towards creating my own story, one that celebrates psychiatry as a much-needed part of the Australian health system.
In a few years, I will be a real doctor - I will be an Itchy Bum Psychiatrist who got her colours.
