Medical Schools Introduce Non-Binary Anatomy Classes Where Organs Identify Themselves

Stomachs now self-report as gluten-free when empowered. In a bold leap toward anatomical equity, medical schools now teach that organs don’t have functions—they have feelings, and they’re tired of being labeled.

In a landmark move toward surgical inclusivity, several top medical schools have launched a new program that eliminates outdated, oppressive concepts like 'organs have fixed functions' and 'blood goes in a circle.' Instead, the next generation of doctors will be trained to practice empathy-based diagnostics, guided by what internal body parts feel they are—not what centuries of oppressive biology have “assigned” them.

The curriculum, titled "Fluid Anatomy: A Journey Through Internal Identity," is part of a broader movement known as Anatomical Justice, which seeks to dismantle the “rigid, binary framework of human physiology” and replace it with something “emotionally affirming and contextually fluid.”

“For too long, we’ve forced hearts to pump, lungs to inhale, and kidneys to filter—without ever asking for consent,” said Dr. Symone Everhart (they/she), Dean of Equitable Medicine at Woketon University School of Advanced Feelings. “The body is a landscape of lived experiences, not a prison of assigned functionality.”

Under the new guidelines:

• Students must refer to the gallbladder as a “bile-curious emotional processor.”

• Testicles may identify as “wisdom pods” or “emotion-storing spheres.”

• The uterus must now be called a “potential space-haver,” unless it self-identifies as decorative.

• Livers can opt out of detox duties if they're experiencing trauma related to tequila.

• And students must never refer to the body as “working” unless it has verbally confirmed its participation.

  
  

Instead of cadaver labs, students now gather in candle-lit yoga pods, place a stethoscope on an avocado, and listen to its “gut truth.”

Grading is based on how well students emotionally resonate with the organ’s experience, not how well they identify the disease. Final exams may include journaling, spoken word poetry, or interpretive dance depictions of the spleen’s inner narrative.

Critics—mostly older doctors who still insist on “saving lives”—are alarmed.

“I asked a med student why their patient was coding,” said one ER surgeon. “ told me the lungs were taking a moment to ‘breathe in their truth.’”

“The patient died. But at least we know the diagnosis aligned with their vibe.”