In 2001, Mark Goldman ’76 was watching CNN at home in Weston, Massachusetts, when Jeff Gardere ’78, a board-certified clinical psychologist, appeared on the screen offering advice on talking to kids about terrorism. Goldman called out to his wife: “You won’t believe this! I know him! He played in our band!”

That band, a highlight of Goldman’s time at the Ģ����ý, hadn’t played together in three decades. And it had been just as long since Goldman, the band’s keyboardist, had talked with Gardere, one of the singers.

Now the two catch up every weekend via Zoom, along with other members of Broad Street Stroke, whose repertoire included hits from Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Tower of Power, and the Average White Band.

After Gardere caught wind of the CNN sighting, the men reconnected and decided it would be good to get the band back together regularly, even if virtually and without instruments. Living in several states along the East Coast, they diligently show up on Saturday mornings to discuss all things past, present, and future—but mostly the state of the world.

“This is almost like therapy for us,” says Gardere. “We have different political views and don’t always agree, but we talk with one another in a respectful manner, and that really should be the blueprint for America.”

On a recent weekend, four of the band’s seven members—the regulars—toggle between being playful and serious. After mournfully acknowledging the passing of Grateful Dead rhythm guitarist Bob Weir, the men reminisce about the good ol’ days, when Broad Street Stroke earned attention both for its sound and for bringing a diverse group of
students together.

From a 1975 review in the : “For those who love to dance the night away, the Stroke gives its audiences enough ‘bumping’ and ‘hustling’ type tunes to keep even the most talented New York City disco-goers satisfied.”

Another Campus Times article credited Broad Street Stroke with performing “a bit of magic” not on the stage but by bringing different races together. The piece compared the band’s impact to “mixing salt and sugar—the individual grains will not change characteristics, but the mixture will have a new taste.”

“The two singers were Black and the other musicians were white,” says Gardere. “That was a phenomenon at the time on campus. Those ’70s were a wonderful mix of entertainment, music, energy, positivity, and racial togetherness. We were brothers.”

Goldman asks if the others can still picture the shock on the audience’s faces during their first gig, dressed in hats and platform shoes, and entertaining with choreographed movements. “We were just doing our thing,” he says. “It wasn’t like, ‘We need to make a statement.’ We were doing the music, and that spoke for itself.”

Their sound was impressive enough to land them a booking on a cruise ship bound for Nassau, Bahamas. The men swap stories about being naive kids back then, when a Genesee beer cost a mere 25 cents. “Our gigs were overflowing and there were a lot of romantic adventures for us on that ship—and I’ll leave it at that,” says Gardere.

Together for two years, Broad Street Stroke practiced at least twice a week in one of the University’s residence towers, after getting official permission to line the walls of an extra room with acoustic tiles. Rehearsals lasted several hours—longer when the band was preparing for a show.

Nowadays musicians can type a song title into a search engine and find sheet music. That would’ve been helpful to the band’s members, none of whom had perfect pitch. Instead, “we’d be standing around our chintzy little record player, putting that needle down repeatedly” and going back and forth about which chord was the correct one, remembers lead guitarist John Accordino ’76. “And we would do that over and over until we got it right.”

Bass guitarist Clint Conley ’77, who had the best relative pitch in the band, also used the phone’s dial tone as a reference point when tuning instruments to F and A. “We practiced like crazy, to the detriment of our studies,” says Accordino. “But we were tight.”

The band members have remained tight in other ways in recent years. Percussionist Louis Gioffre ’76 lost his wife to lung cancer in 2023. Over the two years she was sick, the men offered support, as did other members of the band who pop in every now and then on Saturday mornings.

One of them is Reggie Washington, a Rochester local who sang in the group. After the Broad Street Stroke years, he became a professional gospel singer and contributed to the recording of two gospel albums. That led him to the ministry. Now a bishop, he called at times to pray with Gioffre’s wife. (The group still gets a kick out of Washington’s profession, given that he once was dubbed the “Don Juan” of the band.)

The other occasional drop-in is Conley, who went on to play bass in the post-punk band —recognized as a major influence on alternative rock bands such as Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and R.E.M. (The Boston City Council October 4 “Mission of Burma Day” in 2009.) Although he couldn’t make this particular weekly meeting, Conley later says, “I have such affection for these dudes. Locking down a funk groove with these guys was absolutely exhilarating.”

The men briefly mention seeing one another at the memorial service for Gioffre’s wife—the first time since college that most of them had been together in person. (Goldman, Gioffre, and Conley are the only ones who’ve stayed in consistent touch since graduation.)

“It was a tough reunion,” Gardere says. “It meant a lot to me that you guys showed up,” Gioffre responds.

“It was never in question,” Goldman assures him.

They take a beat, then shift into a substantial digression about Smitty’s Birdland, later known as Snuffy’s Birdland—the popular barbecue and fried chicken restaurant they’d go to after each show, adrenaline pumping and needing to unwind.

After sharing memories of the dirty plastic water pitchers and “hot sauce that was basically disinfectant for your insides,” Goldman brings up how much Gioffre adored Smitty’s macaroni salad—and how Conley made up a short song about it.

“And how did that song go?” Gardere asks, egging on Goldman to sing.

Goldman grins, recollecting how Gioffre would “become enraged” by the ditty. “So, of course,” he says, “that meant now I was going to sing it with Clint. Lou got the desired effect. He wanted us to sing it to him again, so we did.”

“Oh, stop it,” Gioffre says, smiling, as everyone else laughs. “It’s never-ending needling.”

Gardere points out that every Broad Street Stroke member—all “solid, honest, good people”—has had a successful career, which he credits in large part to their Ģ����ý education. He has also found it fascinating to watch how each one has remained roughly the same while evolving in his personality.

He paints Goldman, who transformed a family backpack and sports company into an international brand, as the past and present leader of the group. Goldman continues to play the piano “fairly frequently” and sometimes jams at a dinner club. “I would be a liar if I didn’t say it’s still a thrill to play in front of people,” he confesses.

Gardere describes Gioffre, founder of a national service provider to petroleum and clean energy markets, as having “a very quiet strength and humility.” Shortly after graduating college, Gioffre played in the New Wave band the Digits, which “recorded in England at famous studios with famous record producers,” although nothing was released commercially. These days he rents studio space for his drums and 
recording gear.

Accordino, a university professor of urban and regional planning, is a “mellow, extremely intellectual person” with an “egalitarian perspective on all things,” according to Gardere. Accordino played acoustic guitar regularly until a couple of years ago. Conley, who recently retired from broadcast journalism, “was quite aloof” but “always consistent and reliable.” And Washington, serving his constituents in Tallahassee, Florida, “was always gregarious and generous.”

Gardere doesn’t leave himself out, admitting to “lots of imposter syndrome” both as a musician and across several careers, which required him to learn on the fly. “I was a showman then and I guess still a showman now,” he says. Gardere juggles several professional roles, which include maintaining a private clinical practice and appearing as a therapist on The Real Housewives of Atlanta and other TV shows. He also sings with jazz bands.

(A testament to the group’s good-natured banter: When Conley learned of Gardere’s characterization of him, he wrote in an email, “Aloof? Aloof? Ha! I shall challenge the good doctor to a duel at dawn.”)

These weekly gatherings, Gardere continues, are “a connection from the past to the present, a remembrance of what we were and who we became, and maybe more than anything else, a safe space to talk about how the world has lost its [bleep] mind.”

This story appears in the spring 2026 issue of Rochester Review, the magazine of the Ģ����ý.

Together, these programs support research, international study, and community-based work across fields ranging from chemistry and engineering to the humanities and social sciences. The cohort includes students from the��, the��, and the��.��

Thanks to the extraordinary generosity of its members and the community, the ’s (MAG) will open its doors to all—free of charge—sometime in 2027, much sooner than anticipated.

“Making the museum free ensures that everyone can experience the inspiration, learning, and connection that it offers,” says University President Sarah Mangelsdorf. “We are deeply grateful to our donors, partners, and the broader community whose support makes this historic step possible.”

“By eliminating our admission fee for everyone in perpetuity, generations of community members will soon be able to enjoy �Ѵ���’s extraordinary collection and benefit from a rich cultural education without cost of entry ever standing in the way,” says Sarah Jesse, the Mary W. and Donald R. Clark Director of the Memorial Art Gallery. The museum has raised more than $9 million through its fundraising efforts, surpassing its original goal and timeline.

Visionary support

A pivotal $1 million gift from Alexander “Al” A. Levitan ’63M (MD) and Lucy K. Levitan marked the completion of the museum’s fundraising for the initiative. The Levitan Family Capstone Challenge underscored the couple’s commitment to ensuring everyone has access to �Ѵ���’s world-class collections.

As visionary philanthropists, the Levitans have long championed access to education and formative opportunities for young people. Through endowed scholarships and fellowship funds, they have created pathways for students at the University’s . During a visit to donate works of art to the museum, they learned about the Free for All, Forever initiative and immediately wanted to be part of it.

“We are profoundly thankful to the Levitans for helping us reach this milestone,” adds Mangelsdorf. “Because of them, and the collective tremendous support of so many, the museum has met its Free for All goals early, which is a remarkable achievement.”

A $3 million leadership gift announced in the fall 2025 from MAG Board of Managers Vice President and University Trustee Doug Bennett ’06S (MBA) and Abby Bennett, along with the Sands Family Foundation, established the Abby and Doug Bennett and Sands Family Foundation Free for All Endowment. That gift served as the initial call to action for others to help the museum achieve its vision.

In April 2026, Mary Ellen Burris ’68W (EdM) to the Free for All Endowment. Additional leadership gifts from an anonymous donor, Kitty and Nick Jospé, and Sandy Hawks Lloyd and Justin Hawks Lloyd added to that momentum. Many members of the community have also supported the initiative, underscoring that every contribution—no matter the size—is helping to make free admission possible.

“The Memorial Art Gallery is a treasure in our community, and everyone should have access to it,” says Burris.

Why free admission matters

Sustained public support has helped MAG grow its reach and deepen its impact across the community.

“For many years, Monroe County has proudly supported the MAG in its efforts to offer reduced-price and no-cost opportunities for residents, expand community engagement, enhance access to art and arts education in local schools, and accelerate important projects and exhibitions that might not otherwise reach the community,” says Monroe County Executive Adam Bello. “It’s exciting to see private philanthropy now extending free admission to all visitors. Public-private partnerships are a sustainable way to reinforce our area’s reputation as an arts and cultural hub.”

“Making the museum free ensures that everyone can experience the inspiration, learning, and connection that it offers.” —Ģ����ý President Sarah Mangelsdorf

Currently, adult admission is $20—an amount that adds up quickly for families or discourages repeat visits. When the museum has offered free days in the past, attendance has increased more than sixfold, underscoring how many people are eager to visit when cost is no longer a factor.

“Strengthening Rochester’s already vibrant arts and culture sector by expanding access for children is a key objective of the , because we know exposure to the arts boosts intellectual growth and creative thinking,” says Mayor Malik Evans. “I want to thank the Ģ����ý’s Memorial Art Gallery for launching the Free for All, Forever initiative and the generous donors whose gifts brought this vision to reality for helping us advance our goal of establishing Rochester as a premier city of the arts.”

A return to �Ѵ���’s roots

When Emily Sibley Watson gifted the museum to the community in 1913, she imagined it as a place of education and enjoyment for all. For its first 56 years, MAG was free to the public—a legacy the museum will soon restore.

The Free for All, Forever initiative was conceived as an endowment, with its earnings covering the loss of admission revenue and costs associated with a rise in attendance, ensuring that general admission remains free for everyone in perpetuity. Annual gifts and memberships will continue to sustain exhibitions, lectures, school programs, community events, and hands-on creative workshop classes. Together, this support ensures that the museum remains not only free to enter but also vibrant, dynamic, and deeply engaged with the community it serves.

As a part of the campaign, the Free for All, Forever initiative underscores both the museum and the University’s broad commitment to expanding access and deepening community engagement. It represents a portion of the museum’s overall campaign goal of $60 million, which will support curatorial and staff excellence, exhibitions, new acquisitions and commissions, and expanded educational and creative opportunities for Ģ����ý students, school partnerships, and the broader Rochester community.

“We feel strongly that every family in this region deserves the same opportunities that we have had to engage with art and build unforgettable memories together,” says Doug Bennett. “We are thrilled that the museum can eliminate the cost of admission next year.”

Ģ����ý the For Ever Better campaign

�Ѵ���’s Free for All, Forever initiative is a key priority during For Ever Better: The Campaign for the Ģ����ý—a $1.75 billion campaign rooted in the University’s . The campaign seeks not only to raise critical funds but also to meaningfully engage 250,000 people—amplifying the University’s impact locally and around the world.

Ģ����ý the Memorial Art Gallery

MAG—one of the few university-affiliated art museums in the country that also serves as a public museum—houses 5,000 years of art history and a permanent collection of more than 13,000 objects. Located in Rochester, New York, the museum offers a year-round schedule of world-class exhibitions, lectures, concerts, tours, and family activities. Its 14-acre campus and Centennial Sculpture Park are a popular destination for Rochesterians and out-of-town visitors alike.

The museum extends gratitude to its Board of Managers and the many supporters whose gifts helped build momentum for the Free for All, Forever initiative, including but not limited to Anonymous, University Trustee Doug Bennett ’06S (MBA) and Abby Bennett, David Burns ’78S (MBA) and Margaret Burns, Mary Ellen Burris ’68W (EdM), Andy and Karen Gallina, M. Lois Gauch ’56W (EdM), University Trustee Emeritus Gwen M. Greene ’65, Sandy Hawks Lloyd and Justin Hawks Lloyd, Kitty and Nick Jospé, Elisabeth Judson ’76W (MA) and Thomas Judson, Cornelia Klein, Anne Konar, Meribeth and Howard Konar, the William and Sheila Konar Foundation, Peter Landers ’83 (MS) and Kathy Landers ’82, Al Levitan ’63M (MD) and Lucy Levitan, William Maniscalco, Ken McCurdy, Sharon and Bob Napier, the Sands Family Foundation, James Tabbi, and Rob Tortorella.

The Ģ����ý’s Eastman School of Music has announced a new bachelor of music (BM) in music creation and technology, a degree program designed for students whose musical practice is grounded in electronic and digital technologies.

Led by ’05E (DMA), associate professor of music and technology and former head of music learning at music software company Ableton, the new major will emphasize electronic music production and performance, sound design, recording and editing, DJing, and the development of software and hardware. The inaugural class will begin study in fall 2027.

The program is part of Ģ����ý’s newly established , an interdisciplinary academic collaboration between two leading Ģ����ý schools: Eastman and the Hajim School of Engineering & Applied Sciences. The department also serves as the academic home for faculty engaged in SoundSpace, a transdisciplinary research center advancing Ģ����ý’s leadership in music and technology.

Together, the new major, department, and research center reflect the inspiring combinations possible at Ģ����ý—where artistry, engineering, creativity, and emerging technologies come together to shape how music is made, studied, and experienced.

• Read more about Eastman’s .

More than 50 students, faculty, and staff submitted artwork in the 2026 , the ’s annual contest to explore and illuminate the aesthetic beauty that results when science, art, and technology intersect. Three winning entries will be permanently displayed in the��.

Held each spring, the competition is sponsored by the in collaboration with and supported through an endowed fund established by Trustee Emeritus Ed Hajim ’58 and his wife Barbara. Prizes are awarded for the top student submissions and for the People’s Choice Award, with more than 500 members of the Ģ����ý community casting votes.

First Place and People’s Choice Award

For the second consecutive year, the judges and the Ģ����ý community voters selected the same top entry. Political science student Matthew Ahn ’28 took home both first place and the People’s Choice Award—totaling $1,250—for his hand-drawn ink illustration titled The Architecture of Knowledge. Ahn says his ornate artwork featuring clocks, mechanical systems, geometric networks, and symbolic forms is intended to represent the structural layers of scientific discovery.

“The lower sections evoke instruments used to measure time and motion, while the upper sections introduce increasingly complex geometric and interconnected systems,” he says. “Each layer reflects how scientific knowledge builds progressively upon previous discoveries. The symmetry and intricate patterns invite viewers to explore the drawing at multiple scales, revealing new details much like scientific observation itself.”

Second Place

Physics PhD student Meg Farinsky was the runner-up with��Luminous Gills,��her macro photograph of the gills on the underside of a pink oyster mushroom illuminated by grow lights. She photographed the home-grown culinary mushrooms using a 100 mm Rokinon macro lens on a Canon 5D Mark III camera.

“Mushrooms—pink oysters in particular—are attracting a lot of scientific interest right now,” says Farinsky. “They’re being studied for applications in bioremediation and plastic degradation, sustainable food, and material production, and electrical signaling in fungal networks that resembles neural activity. Beyond their scientific relevance, their glowing gills and sculptural forms make them naturally compelling visual subjects.”

Third Place

Majd Tabsi ’29, a biomedical engineering major, earned a place on the podium with��Strings of Life—a creative representation of DNA and gene editing using about a mile of string. Tabsi sketched a design and input it into software called MyZigzagArt, which uses an algorithm to generate a sequence of string passes to create a representation of the sketch. He made a circle of 250 nails on a 2 x 2 foot piece of wood and, over the course of 30 hours, made 2,500 string passes from one nail to another to produce the final artwork.

“Humanity has always wondered about how life is created and how traits are passed,” says Tabsi. “Mendel’s discovery of the laws of heredity started the ever-growing field of genetics. We later learned about the smallest strings that hold the keys to our evolution and the continuity of life—DNA, or what my work calls ‘Strings of Life.’ We sought to map them, understand their construction, and even started trying to edit them using tools like CRISPR-Cas9, which is what the separated gene in my work refers to. Tools like these raise a variety of questions around the ethicality and the limitations of usage. But they also show what humanity is capable of. And the question remains: What will we do next?”

What was your first car?

Greg Jorgensen lights up at the subject of cars, especially when reminiscing about his first Ford: a 2001 dark green Escape.

“I remember thinking it was the nicest, fanciest car with all this awesome technology—the radio actually said what the name of the song was in scrolling LED lights,” he says. “I had really hit the big-time as an auto exec in my fancy new car!”

Now, he’s no longer just driving Ford vehicles. Instead, he’s helping steer the financial direction of one of the world’s most recognized automotive brands.

As chief financial officer for North American ICE Trucks at Ford Motor Company, Greg Jorgensen must pivot quickly when the market swings from “one big thing” to the next. In fact, he has seen more changes in auto industry predictions in the last five years than in the previous two decades.

First autonomous vehicles were expected to dominate the roadways. Then it was electric vehicles. Then it was the idea that drivers would rent or buy time in a car instead of owning one. Through it all, Jorgensen, who earned an MBA in finance in 2000 from the Ģ����ý’s , has had to know when to double down and when to shift focus—at least in the short run.

“Sometimes there are big dollars involved, but you have to be able to take the risk and move to something new,” he says.

Early lessons show up on the job

Jorgensen traces his adaptability to Simon.

He entered business school straight from earning a BS in civil engineering from Lehigh University. As a result, he was introduced to business case planning, financial scheduling, balance sheets, and other foundational components of “everything I do at Ford every day,” says Jorgensen. His tenure at Ford and wholly owned subsidiaries of Ford has included more than a dozen finance analyst, supervisor, manager, and CFO positions since graduation. He has held his current role—overseeing its lineup of trucks powered by traditional internal combustion engines (ICE)—since 2022.

“From day one, I was ready to go. [The Simon professors] made us feel we were getting the tools to be successful, and failure wasn’t an option. I can look back on that now and say that made a huge difference.”

In his first year at Simon, being assigned to a group of students from various generations and countries exposed him to “diversity that helped us learn to deal with each other and deal with conflict when working together,” he says.

Those lessons, as well as Jorgensen’s ability to shift course quickly, were reinforced by an unlikely source in the classroom—an operations management simulation called the Soda Pop Game. Now computerized, but at the time played with small plastic bottles, Jorgensen and other students worked in teams to manage a soft drink factory while maximizing profitability. He remembers the game fondly: “It was a real-world way to apply what we were learning in the classroom, and it was fun to have some competition.”

Connections over calculations

Jorgensen has made a career of working with numbers and excels at the financial discipline required to run a large-dollar, thin-margin business competitively. Yet he says his relationships with others have carried the most heft when making high-stakes decisions as a finance leader.

It’s important to learn how to navigate different perspectives because people can be very particular, he points out.

“Somebody has to approve spending money at the end of the day. But there are different ways to get there, which is why the people I work with are more important than any specific job,” explains Jorgensen. He meets colleagues for lunch, builds relationships outside the office, and often handpicks those who work most closely with him. “You just have to keep in mind that everybody’s at work trying to do their best.”

Nothing less than success

Despite the enormous consequences that could come from a miscalculated decision, Jorgensen doesn’t waste time thinking about potential downsides at work. “We always talk about the upside,” he says. “It’s more about ‘Is this going to be moderately successful or wildly successful?’”

Jorgensen credits that measured confidence to the personalized, hands-on interactions with professors at Simon who taught from real-world work experience. He recalls how this influenced stepping into his first role at Ford, without having any of his own practical insight: “From day one, I was ready to go. They made us feel we were getting the tools to be successful, and failure wasn’t an option. I can look back on that now and say that made a huge difference.”

A non-negotiable standard

Jorgensen has come a long way since that first Ford Escape. These days, he cruises in a 1964½ Mustang convertible—a nod to both his personal passion and the industry he helps shape.

“Staying motivated is easy when you like your job,” he says, adding that passion is a non-negotiable for those wanting to create meaningful change in their industry

“Ideas come quicker,” he continues. “It’s hard to make an impact when you’re just going through the motions.”

Editor’s note: A version this story was originally published in April 2016. It has been republished ahead of the building’s 50th anniversary on April 4, 2026.

“What is past is prologue,” wrote William Shakespeare in The Tempest, one of his final plays. As an undergraduate student at the Ģ����ý, Harriet Washington ’76 found herself poring over the confessional physician narratives at Rush Rhees Library and the version of events they captured. That formative experience would lead to a career reopening the medical history record for closer examination. Who compiled it, and to what ends? Who has trained the lens, and to whose exclusion? And critically, why do events of the last several centuries loom so large today?

As a leading historian of medicine and bioethicist, Washington is known for work that insists on accuracy over nostalgia, complexity over comfort. With her seventh book to be published in 2027, she examines how medical practices are shaped by culture, power, and race, and how those legacies persist for patients and caregivers today. Along the way, she has rescued overlooked figures from obscurity—and helped unseat others, literally, from their pedestals. (Specifically, the James Marion Sims statue in New York City’s Central Park—more on this later.)

Where ‘competing passions’ converge

Originally from Fort Dix, New Jersey, Washington arrived at Ģ����ý in 1972 with what she mistook for competing passions. “I had a deep love for history and kinship with the past, but didn’t see what practical use I could put to it,” she recalls. “I also had a desire to become a physician.”

At URochester, Washington studied with three influential professors who clarified her career path and passion: “to somehow meld literature, history, and medicine.”

The first was Margaret Perry, who introduced Washington to the writers of the Harlem Renaissance. Perry, hired in 1970 to lead the University’s Education Library, served as an assistant professor of English as well as the acting director of University Libraries. Among other works, Perry authored The Harlem Renaissance: An Annotated Biography and Commentary (Garland Publishing, 1982) and The Short Fiction of Rudolph Fisher (Greenwood Press, 1987). Fisher, an early radiologist, musician, and writer, would become one of three subjects of Washington’s forthcoming biography, Renaissance Men.

“I was seeing that the history of medicine had been carefully curated to exclude the experience of African Americans, people of color, and poor people. That lit my fire.”

Washington also credits Russell Peck, the prominent medieval scholar who spent more than five decades at URochester. “He really encouraged my interest in not only medieval history, but also the value of history in fully understanding the present,” she says. And finally, R. Carey Macintosh, author of The Evolution of English Prose, 1700–1800: Style, Politeness, and Print Culture (Cambridge University Press, 1998), was “very supportive of me at a critical juncture,” drawing out both content and confidence.

The physician confessional literature at Rush Rhees Library “was full of doctors who bragged about their exploits in foreign lands, bringing the ‘blessings’ of Western medicine,” she recalls. While these stories were moving, she says, something in their tone bothered her: disdain for women, people of color, and other cultures written off as simple-minded. “When I would raise this issue, people would become angry with me…. ‘You have no degree in history. Be gone.’ That was frustrating for me, but I knew I was onto something.”

A detective at work in the archives

At the University’s Strong Memorial Hospital, Washington continued reading between the lines—this time, of files for patients awaiting kidney transplants. Were they thick or thin? Did they say, “loving family, stable job,” or just include a curt advisory to prepare this patient for “imminent demise”?

“I felt like a detective. I was finding information. I was exposing something. I was proposing solutions. I was seeing patterns that people had not seen before. I was seeing that the history of medicine had been carefully curated to exclude the experience of African Americans, people of color, and poor people. That lit my fire. I knew that someone had to find out why it happened, and how to reverse it.”

Washington tapped into that spirit of inquiry to become a noted journalist, author, and medical ethicist. Her book��Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present (Doubleday)��won the 2007����for nonfiction. In 2019, she published A Terrible Thing to Waste: Environmental Racism and Its Assault on the American Mind. And in 2021, her Carte Blanche: The Erosion of Medical Consent (Columbia Global Reports) drew praise from author Ibram X. Kendi as “urgent, alarming, riveting, and essential.”

Washington has been a fellow in ethics at Harvard Medical School, a fellow at the Harvard School of Public Health, and a senior research scholar at the National Center for Bioethics at Tuskegee University. She now teaches bioethics at Columbia University.

Tripling down on history

Renaissance Men, Washington’s first biography—and a triple one at that—tells the story of three Black physicians who transformed American medicine while contending with daunting barriers: Fisher, James McCune Smith, and Louis T. Wright. Smith, denied entry to US medical schools, earned his medical degree from the University of Glasgow in 1837 and became a leading abolitionist intellectual. Fisher bridged science and art as both a radiologist and Harlem Renaissance cultural figure. Wright, director of surgery at Harlem Hospital, was a pioneering researcher and civil rights activist.

During a campus visit in fall 2025, Washington received the University’s Frederick Douglass Medal, bestowed on individuals whose scholarship and civic engagement honor the legacy of the famed 19th-century African American abolitionist. University President Sarah Mangelsdorf noted that Washington’s work “has profoundly influenced how we understand the intersection of race, medicine, and ethics. She is one of the most important voices in contemporary bioethics.”

Knocking down to build up

Washington continues to argue for reforms that rebuild trust in healthcare systems, from changing research laws to establishing clear, data-driven policies to ensure equitable patient care, particularly in pain treatment and access to medication.

“There’s a difference between nostalgia and history,” she insists. Smallpox vaccination, defibrillator technology, and even the surgery for the congenital heart disorder known as Tetralogy of Fallot (or “blue baby syndrome”) owe a debt to Black ingenuity. Washington, who curates a medical-humanities film series, often screens the 2004 movie Something the Lord Made, a biopic of the cardiac inventor Vivien Thomas.

“We’ve given many people 400 years’ worth of reasons not to trust our healthcare system.”

Her research contributed to the successful effort to remove the statue of Dr. J. Marion Sims—the revered obstetric surgeon and “father of gynecology”—from Central Park in 2018, after renewed scrutiny of his non-consensual experiments on enslaved women. She supported the campaign, largely driven by medical students, while remaining behind the scenes, determined to preserve her credibility as a historian. Still: “Every time I spoke, I would see a row of older men glowering at me, waiting for the Q&A to jump down my throat.”

Even now, she sees the past playing out, with illnesses like COVID-19 laying bare the disparities of both disease burdens and treatment outcomes. “How to restore or inculcate patient trust is the most frequently asked question I get,” she says. “I always say, that’s the wrong question. We’ve given many people 400 years’ worth of reasons not to trust our healthcare system. The question then becomes: ‘How do we build a more trustworthy healthcare system?’ Having a more complete, inclusive, accurate history of medicine could help significantly.”