A new report ranks Mississippi No. 51 out of all states and Washington, D.C., on national healthcare metrics — a finding that came as no surprise to health officials, advocacy groups, or Mississippians who experience the system daily.
The Commonwealth Fund, a private foundation focused on healthcare issues, released a report Wednesday that provided a nationwide look at how health outcomes, access to care, and quality of care differ based on racial and ethnic identity. The report shows that, compared to national rates, a higher number of Mississippians die from avoidable deaths, lack health insurance, and have less preventative care such as cancer screenings. These trends are heightened for Black Mississippians.
In Mississippi, Black, white, and Hispanic racial and ethnic groups are represented in the report, which is drawn from federal data from 2022 to 2024. There was not enough data for Asian Americans, including Native Hawaiian and Pacific Islanders, and Indigenous people to rank their experience in the healthcare system.
One telling metric is the state’s preventable death rate, which reflects people whose ailments could have been addressed through public health interventions or treated within the healthcare system.
Diabetes, certain cancers and heart disease are examples of treatable ailments. The preventable death rate also includes people who died of certain infectious diseases such as measles, HIV/AIDS, whose deaths were related to alcohol and drug use, and post-partum deaths. The rates for Black, white, and Asian American Mississippians were higher by at least three dozen people per 100,000, as compared to the national rate for each racial group.
Dr. Daniel Edney, state health officer for Mississippi, said in a statement to Mississippi Today that while health benchmarks are low, some numbers have improved over the last two years.
“I have been raising awareness for my entire tenure that it is unacceptable for MS to have the highest rate of preventable death and the lowest life expectancy,” he wrote, adding that he is encouraged by a decrease in overdose and other accidental deaths since 2022.
He said the Mississippi Department of Health is committed to addressing health disparities across initiatives like maternal health, disease prevention and community outreach. “We have focused on an all-encompassing approach with every program at MSDH to address health disparities in recent years, making sure this work is part of everything we do at MSDH and not just a standalone effort,” he wrote.
The Mississippi Public Health Institute hosts the Perinatal Quality Collaborative, which supports the health of pregnant mothers. Data is invaluable to understand local needs and guide strategy, Senior Program Manager Amy Winter said in a statement.
“By strengthening community partnerships and focusing on access, quality, and continuity of care, we aim to ensure that all women have the support they need for healthy pregnancies and safe births,” she wrote.
A lack of affordable care access contributes to poor health outcomes state-wide, and Mississippi stands out as having “one of the lowest insurance coverage rates for working age adults in the country,” said David Radley, one of the authors of the report.
What fuels health disparities in Mississippi?
This disproportionate lack of health coverage is reflected across racial and ethnic groups. The percentage of white people who are uninsured is 12% in Mississippi versus an 8% average for white people nationwide. Among Black people, those in Mississippi are uninsured at 15% versus 12% nationally.
The data shows 41% of Hispanic people in Mississippi are uninsured, almost twice the national rate for Hispanic people.
These outcomes trace back to state lawmakers’ repeated rejection of Medicaid Expansion in recent years, said Khaylah Scott, a program manager for the Mississippi Health Advocacy Program.
“It’s not really a surprise that Mississippi has higher uninsured rates than the national average when we’re one of 10 states to not expand Medicaid,” Scott said. Under the Affordable Care Act, the expansion would extend Medicaid to adults with incomes below 138% of the federal poverty level. The federal government would pay for 90% of the healthcare coverage costs for eligible adults, with states paying the remainder. While Mississippi legislators came the closest they have been to expanding Medicaid in 2024, expansion bills in the most recent legislative session encountered a quick death.
Experts and advocates point to the reverberating impacts of H.R.1., the so-called One Big Beautiful Bill Act, that President Donald Trump signed into law in July. The tax and spending package gutted social safety net programs like the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program and Medicaid. An estimated 7.8 million people will lose Medicaid eligibility by 2034, and the impact is expected to fall disproportionately on communities of color and children.
When it comes to the particularly high rate of uninsured Hispanic residents, Scott brought up the safety and immigration risks.
“There are federal policies, especially through H.R.1, that limit access to care for not just Hispanic populations, but immigrant populations as well,” she said. “I do just want to acknowledge the social impacts that these things may have on people’s trust in these systems.”
Lorena Lewis-Quiroz, the executive director of the Immigrant Alliance for Justice & Equity of Mississippi, has seen these dynamics play out firsthand. Misinformation stokes fears, she said, that applying for federal programs such as Medicaid will affect their family’s immigration status or lead to their information being sent to the federal Department of Homeland Security. someone’s immigration status.
“‘If I apply for Medicaid, if I go apply for these things on this website, is my information going to be shared even if my child is born here, even if I’m qualified?’” Lewis-Quiroz said.
These fears are partly justified. While applying for Medicaid does not affect an immigrant’s ability to get a green card, in Mississippi, ICE can obtain Medicaid data to use in immigration enforcement.
How uninsurance rates shape Mississippi health outcomes
Robin Boyles is chief program planning and development officer at the Delta Health Center in Mound Bayou, which treats both insured and uninsured patients. In her role, she said, she observes the clear connection between a high rate of preventable deaths and uninsured Mississippians. Boyles pointed to the similar rates of cancer incidence across the state, but a higher mortality in the Delta, meaning that people aren’t getting screened and diagnosed early enough.
“When you don’t have insurance, you don’t get screened,” Boyles said. “You can’t afford it.”
Like Scott, she supports extending Medicaid coverage to more Mississippi residents.
“I certainly believe that if we would have expanded Medicaid and taken the funding that was available to us over the past few years, we would see better metrics than we have now,” she said.
Further systemic issues perpetuate dismal health outcomes among Mississippians compared to other states. Both Boyles and Lewis-Quiroz also pointed to factors including difficulty finding transportation and a limited number of specialists available in rural areas as reasons people will delay seeking care even if they know something is wrong.
If parents in the Delta need to take their infant to the neonatal intensive care unit, they have to take at least a day off work, find a reliable vehicle and fill up on gas to drive three hours to the University of Mississippi Medical Center in Jackson.
“Who can afford for their undocumented mother to, you know, be flown in to UMMC?” Lewis-Quiroz asked. “And so people are just choosing to not seek healthcare.”
For Joyee Washington, a lifelong Mississippian and owner of a Hattiesburg-based public health consulting business that focuses on community-engaged research, data can only tell part of the state’s story. She wishes health-focused reports also showed where Mississippi has improved, and how local organizations are fighting to create change.
What the reports can’t show are the community-based organizations already building programs, Washington said. She has seen people throwing community baby showers that double as educational outreach on how Medicaid now covers 12 months after birth in Mississippi. She has seen people creating events around Alzheimer’s and dementia education, and she has participated in health equity assessments where people come together to problem solve what’s not working in the current system.
“What we often forget when we’re talking about public health is that behind every point is a story,” she said. “Behind every data point is a human.”
This story was produced with support from the Sarah Yelena Haselhorst Fund for Health Journalism.
