Love, Service, and Equity: A Tribute to My Husband and Our Shared Mission

In the intricate dance of our shared lives, my husband and I have found a harmonious rhythm between his unwavering dedication to public health and my passion for Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI). His steadfast belief that quality healthcare is a universal right—not a privilege reserved for the affluent—has profoundly shaped my approach to DEI. His work has shown me, in the most tangible ways, that health equity and social justice are inseparable.

As a physician within the U.S. government health sector, he embodies the principle that underserved communities deserve exceptional medical care. His choice to forgo private practice in favor of serving those in need reflects a commitment to equity that transcends the exam room. His resolve has never wavered—he has always believed that his skills belong not to the highest bidder but to the most vulnerable populations. In turn, that commitment has deepened my own. If we all deserve to live a life of dignity, inclusion, and acceptance, then equity—in healthcare, in workplaces, and in society at large—must be more than a value; it must be a practice.

The work my husband does is not theoretical. He has dedicated his life to serving communities in sub-Saharan Africa, where access to quality healthcare can mean the difference between life and death. His work is deeply personal—not just for him, but for the people he treats, for the colleagues he partners with, and for the communities he serves. And yet, recent policy shifts have cast shadows over both healthcare and DEI initiatives, threatening to undermine decades of global progress. Executive actions have led to the suspension of critical global health programs, jeopardizing services for millions. The halt of U.S. foreign aid has disrupted essential HIV research and treatment efforts in the very regions where my husband works, threatening to reverse years of progress. The ripple effect is staggering: clinics closing, medication access dwindling, and entire infrastructures of care at risk of collapse.

At the same time, DEI itself is under siege. The rollback of federal DEI programs, the removal of inclusive policies, and the erasure of equity-driven initiatives from government institutions signal more than a political shift—they represent a fundamental challenge to the values that drive both my work and his. When DEI is attacked, so too is the fight for equitable healthcare. The work my husband does—the work I do—cannot exist in silos. Healthcare cannot be truly effective without a commitment to inclusion, just as DEI cannot be meaningful without addressing the very real disparities in health outcomes, access, and treatment.

Our professions are not just interconnected; they are deeply interdependent. The same systemic inequities that necessitate DEI work—the racial, economic, and social barriers that exclude people from opportunities—are the same forces that make my husband’s work necessary. Structural racism, gender inequality, and economic disparities do not just shape the workplace; they determine who gets care, who gets treatment, and ultimately, who gets to live. Everyone deserves a good doctor and access to quality healthcare, just as everyone deserves the dignity of equitable opportunities, representation, and inclusion.

Together, we remain committed to the vision of a world where quality healthcare and inclusivity are not aspirations but realities for all. His dedication fuels my resolve, and our shared journey fortifies our belief in the transformative power of equity and compassion. While we work in different fields, our fight is the same: a fight for access, dignity, and justice. And in that fight, I am honored to stand beside him, learning every day from his unwavering belief that everyone—no matter where they are born, no matter their circumstances—deserves a good doctor.

In a time when so much is uncertain, one thing remains clear: the work of healing—whether through medicine or inclusion—is work worth fighting for. And fight we will.