The Future of Veterinary Medicine Is Shaped by Those Who Show Up

This article was originally printed in the Sept/Oct 2026 issue of the California Veterinarian magazine.

One Wednesday in 2025, as I was struggling to decode islet cells on blurry histology slides, my inbox pinged: “2027 CVMA House of Delegates Application – NOW OPEN!” I almost ignored it. Between studying for anatomy, being humbled by my poor understanding of DKA, and trying to figure out what the heck a type III hypersensitivity reaction was, joining the House of Delegates felt like volunteering for extra homework. Nonetheless, I decided to click “Apply.” I had no idea that one email would completely upend what I thought I knew about veterinary medicine.

Weeks later, I arrived at my first CVMA Leadership Forum meeting. I hardly understood what a “House of Delegates” was, let alone what the CVMA did. The topic of the day was one that continues to elude not just veterinary medicine, but all healthcare professions: As artificial intelligence becomes increasingly integrated into practice, how can we determine what constitutes an acceptable standard of care? The conversation brought me back to a hospital where I had worked as a baby veterinary assistant. The practice was considering an AI radiology interpretation service as a lower-cost alternative to traditional radiologist consultation. At the time, my thinking was straightforward: If it made specialist interpretation more affordable and more accessible, why wouldn’t we use it? But now, in that room surrounded by my CVMA colleagues, I was confronted with the complexities and nuances of the decisions that shape our profession. Who decides when technology is reliable enough to become the standard of care? What happens when affordability, accessibility, and quality don’t all point in the same direction? What are our legal and ethical responsibilities to our patients?

I had never really stopped to think about where standards of care came from, who decided when technology became acceptable to use, or how legislative positions were formed. Many of the issues I had assumed were simply “part of veterinary medicine” were being actively discussed, debated, and shaped by rooms full of veterinarians. These veterinary professionals took time off from work to argue through difficult questions, disagree respectfully, look at evidence, and try to reach a consensus about issues that affected my classmates and me before we had even started thinking about the NAVLE.

As CVMA student members, we’re expected to show up for the profession as future leaders—and that’s not false. However, I’d argue the true value of the CVMA isn’t that we’re expected to have all the answers; it’s that we’re invited into the conversation long before we do.

Before getting involved, I assumed organizations like the CVMA were something you joined after graduation, once you finally had something worth contributing. Instead, I found the CVMA’s greatest value as a student was exactly the opposite. Organized veterinary medicine has given me the chance to see how decisions affecting our profession are made and helped me realize that the future of veterinary medicine isn’t something we simply inherit. It’s something that’s continuously shaped by everyday people who are willing to show up.

To all veterinary students and new graduates: If a similar email lands in your inbox, I encourage you to click “Apply.” You don’t need to know exactly what the House of Delegates is. I certainly didn’t. You don’t need to have all the answers, either. Sometimes the most valuable thing you can do is simply show up, listen, and realize that the future of veterinary medicine is being discussed long before you sign your first email with “DVM.”