By Jennifer Porter Gore
(WIB) – As a behavioral scientist who studies the intersection of cancer and race, Charles Rogers knows the data: More Black women die from breast cancer than white women, even though the overall rate of cancer deaths in the U.S. has fallen during the past two decades.
As a grandson and husband, however, his understanding of how a breast cancer diagnosis can devastate loved ones is far more intimate — and painful.
“My first encounter with breast cancer was as an undergraduate when I lost my grandmother to the disease,” says Rogers, a nationally recognized researcher whose work focuses on equitable cancer prevention, early detection, and culturally responsive care. “She was the heart of our family. Losing her forced me to confront how illness moves through generations and how silence and delayed care can cost us dearly.”
Then, the disease struck even closer to home: Rogers’ wife is a two-time, early-onset breast cancer thriver. Supporting her through diagnosis, treatment and recovery, he says, “changed me in ways no textbook ever could.”
“It transformed cancer disparities from something I studied into something I lived inside my own home,” he says.
History Takes Its Toll
Last week, Word In Black published its first-ever survey of Black women, asking about their attitudes, knowledge and beliefs about breast cancer. The report “Understanding Breast Cancer Risks, Concerns, and Barriers to Screening in Black Women,” which Word In Black’s Insights & Research Division published on Feb. 23, found respondents had fear and anxiety about the procedure or results, as well as difficulty accessing tests and procedures that can lead to early detection.
Rogers says that Black women’s anxiety is rooted in experiences that go beyond the discomfort of an exam or fear of a worst-case diagnosis.
“For many Black women, fear is not abstract,” says Rogers, founder and president of the Colorectal Cancer Equity Foundation and the founder and chief advisor of Rogers Solutions Group. “It is informed lived experience,” including mistrust of the healthcare system, economic pressures and not feeling heard by healthcare providers.
“Too many Black women experience medical racism and medical gaslighting, including having their pain minimized, their symptoms dismissed, and their concerns second-guessed,” he says. “I have seen how that erodes trust and can lead to delayed diagnoses, repeated visits, and additional medical bills that compound both emotional and financial strain. I have also seen how powerful it is when a provider truly listens.”
Word In Black’s conversation with Rogers was edited for length and clarity.
Word In Black: The overwhelming response from survey respondents is that fear prevents many of them from getting breast cancer screening, which seems overly broad. Do Black women fear the screening/testing process itself, interactions with healthcare officials, or the actual disease?
Rogers: Fear is rarely just one thing.
As a behavioral scientist, I can tell you that when nearly 60% of the Black women in your study noted fear is the primary barrier, we have to understand that fear operates on multiple levels. It can be fear of pain during the mammogram. Fear of receiving bad news. Fear of what a diagnosis might mean for children, for work, for finances, for identity. It can also be fear shaped by prior experiences of being dismissed or not believed in medical settings.
It may be fear of the disease itself, especially knowing that national data show Black women face higher death rates from breast cancer even though they are diagnosed less often than white women. It may be fear of navigating a healthcare system that has not always treated them with dignity.It may even be anticipatory stress about what happens next if something is found.
We know from decades of behavioral science research that fear can trigger avoidance. When anxiety feels overwhelming, delaying the appointment can temporarily reduce stress, even though it increases long-term risk. That does not mean women do not care about their health. It means the emotional weight of screening is real.
The opportunity here is not to dismiss fear, but to address it directly. That means normalizing anxiety about screening, clearly explaining what to expect, ensuring compassionate communication from providers, and reinforcing that early detection dramatically improves outcomes. When women feel heard and supported, fear loses some of its power.
Fear is human. Our response to it must also be human.
WIB: What, if any, are the best ways to help women move forward despite this fear?
Rogers: Fear does not disappear just because we tell someone screening is important. The key is helping women move forward with fear, not waiting for fear to go away.
First, we have to normalize anxiety about mammograms. Many women feel nervous about pain, results, or what might come next. When providers openly acknowledge that fear and explain what to expect step by step, uncertainty decreases and confidence increases.
Second, messaging matters. This report shows that clear, risk reduction messages that emphasize outcomes performed best. Behavioral science supports that finding. People are more likely to act when they understand both the benefit and the timeline. National data from major cancer organizations show that early detection dramatically improves survival, and framing screening in those terms connects action to a clear and hopeful outcome.
Third, make the first step smaller. Instead of framing screening as a major medical event, frame it as scheduling a single appointment. Research shows that breaking big decisions into smaller actions reduces avoidance.
Fourth, trust must be built, not assumed. Black women need providers who listen, answer questions directly, and treat concerns with respect. Compassionate communication is not a luxury. It is a clinical strategy.
Finally, leverage community reinforcement. When sisters, friends, churches, and social networks normalize mammograms, fear loses some of its isolation. Collective encouragement can shift behavior in ways that information alone cannot.
Fear is powerful [but] so is agency. The goal is not to eliminate fear, but to give women the tools, support, and clarity to act anyway.
WIB: How can spouses, partners, and family members encourage their wives and other loved ones to get screened?
Rogers: Encouragement works best when it feels like partnership, not pressure.
This report makes clear that fear is a major barrier for many Black women. That means spouses, partners, and family members must approach the conversation with empathy first. Ask open, supportive questions such as, “How are you feeling about getting your mammogram?” or “Is there anything that makes you nervous about it?” Creating space for honesty helps reduce isolation around that fear.
Practical support also matters. Offer to help schedule the appointment, provide transportation, handle childcare, or rearrange responsibilities that day. Removing logistical stress shows that her health is a shared priority, not something she has to navigate alone.
At the same time, my research on men and masculinity norms shows that many men are taught to see themselves as protectors, but not always as active participants in health decisions. Encouragement becomes more powerful when men express support without control and model preventive care themselves. When partners openly prioritize their own screenings and doctor visits, it helps normalize prevention within the household.
It is also important to avoid fear-based pressure. The data in this report show that fear is already high, and adding more alarm can increase avoidance. Instead, emphasize empowerment. Research consistently shows that early detection improves outcomes. Screening is proactive. It is an act of care, not just for herself, but for everyone who loves her.
Black women carry enormous responsibility within families and communities. When partners and loved ones step in with respect, practical help, and shared accountability, fear feels more manageable and action feels possible.
WIB: How have you advocated for the women in your life confronting this disease?
Rogers: My first encounter with breast cancer was as an undergraduate when I lost my grandmother to the disease. She was the heart of our family. Losing her forced me to confront how illness moves through generations and how silence and delayed care can cost us dearly.