As a child growing up in Mobay, the trees in my backyard fascinated me. Firstly, I was convinced that at nights it colluded with the moon to scare me, casting semi-humanoid shadows on the ground. More importantly, I was impressed with its tremendous growth. Each year I might grow a mere few inches and it would sprout whole feet. My mom tried to explain that soil, water and sunlight contributed to its development but how on earth could those ingredients morph into this sturdy, wooden mass?
Science was a natural haven for my curious mind. Throughout high school at Montego Bay High and after I left Jamaica to continue my education at the United World College of the Atlantic in Wales, I continued to immerse myself into the wonder of biology. I was thrilled to finally understand how organisms develop and the scientific premises that shaped their lives.
The Molecular Biology department at Princeton University provided excellent fodder for my hungry mind. I eagerly applied myself to the requisite courses. My choices were not always strategic; I struggled through Organic Chemistry in freshman year when most of my classmates were sophomores and upperclassmen. But by senior year I could prove my mettle as a scientist: ever intrigued by how complex structures arose from mere embryos, I elected to focus on the developmental biology of the fly. I enjoyed designing the systematic methodology that elucidated the genetic interactions.
Although studying the delicate interactions of Drosophila genes was a superb intellectual occupation, I wondered how my foundational understanding of biology might be projected onto human problems. For me, the most impactful lesson pertained to how systemic defects in biology manifest as disease. For example, my department could teach me the underlying biology of chronic diseases like obesity, diabetes mellitus and hypertension. However, the startling prevalence of these diseases in our generation was outside the scope of my immediate courses. I decided to fill the gap by pursuing courses in global health, disease dynamics, agriculture and environmental sustainability.
The decision to join the Program in Environmental Studies opened the gateway to knowledge of how agriculture and food systems have evolved in the last century. The courses allowed me to see how these changes negatively altered the nutritional habits of developing and industrialized societies worldwide. The lessons came to life when I joined a delegation of students investigating the state of urban food environments in the food desert of Oakland, CA. Despite the fact that the San Francisco valley produces abundant harvests each year, the low-income communities were dominated by fast food outlets. After observing the stark lack of healthful options in the few supermarkets that were present we easily understood why children as well as adults were increasingly afflicted with food-related lifestyle diseases. When I left Oakland I was acutely aware of how food insecurity and food environments influence long-term health.
I came to understand that life was actually grander than what transpires on the lab bench. It was my elective courses which exposed me to the public health crises of our generation. I came to recognize lifestyle diseases as more than mere defects in our biological processes: for me they are grave repercussions of individual diets and lifestyles indelibly impressed by our socioeconomic environments.
I knew I would never be satisfied with the pursuit of knowledge: my sense of fulfillment comes from both the acquisition of new knowledge and the careful proliferation of new knowledge—so that the boardroom, the employees, the public, the world can access and use it to make our lives better. I still employ the elegant scientific method as a core part of my approach to problem solving, but I am much more excited about the part that comes afterwards when we choose to utilize newfound knowledge.