Morgan State University Community Engagement and Urban Health Equity Internship
by,
Rachel Michel, MSPH, MED'29
During my internship through the Center for Urban Health Equity at Morgan State University, I engaged in several distinct but interconnected activities that deepened my understanding of community-engaged health work. I visited the National Archives with research scientist Dr. Lawrence Brown, who leads the Black Butterfly Rising Initiative, which aims to counter historical trauma and disinvestment in redlined urban Black neighborhoods. At the National Archives, I viewed historical documents on redlining in Boston, including the original city map that delineated neighborhoods by racialized investment grades. I also took a cooking class with registered dietician, professor, and Director of Nutritional Sciences Program at Morgan State University, Dr. Joycelyn Peterson, designed to expand conversations around "food as medicine" and build my own knowledge base in plant-based nutrition. Throughout the internship, I met with experts in community engagement to learn from their work and connect it to my future practice as a physician. For example, I met with professor Dr. Jessica Owens Young, Professor in the Department of Public and Allied Health and Principal Investigator of the Maternal Health Research Coordinating Center at Morgan State University. to discuss how patients on Medicaid can be connected with doulas, exploring the systemic and logistical barriers to that access. Finally, I connected my interest in women's health to Dr. Brown's expertise on primary source examination of redlining, and together we launched a project investigating redlining's impact on uterine fibroid incidence in Boston. I conducted a literature search and identified potential datasets, laying the groundwork to formally begin this project and continue a collaboration with Morgan State University.
Holding the original redlining maps at the National Archives evoked something I had not anticipated—a visceral sense of how deliberate and documented these patterns of harm truly were. Seeing neighborhoods graded by race was sobering and, at times, unsettling. It transformed an abstract concept I had read about into a tangible artifact of injustice, and it deepened my sense of responsibility to the communities still living with these consequences. The cooking class with Dr. Peterson brought a different emotion entirely: joy and connection. I felt inspired by how something as ordinary as a meal could become a vehicle for healing, culture, and community. In addition, since nutrition, choices of food, and access to healthy food are predictive factors for early death and disability in the United States, there is a crucial need to shift emphasis on nutrition and prevention of disease to reduce morbidity and mortality in this country. Therefore, learning more about food as medicine expanded on my knowledge of preventative medicine and fostered fellowship in sharing a meal together. Lastly, beginning the project on uterine fibroids and redlining was exciting as it aligns my passion for women's health with the structural realities that shape it.
The most significant learning from this experience is that community engagement in health is not transactional—it is a relationship built on listening, communication, trust, and consistency. Before any intervention can succeed, we must first listen to who actually makes up a community rather than assuming we already know their needs. Communication must actively counter the paternalistic superiority that has too often characterized medicine's relationship with marginalized groups. Trust is earned by being genuinely trustworthy, and consistency means showing up—even when there is "nothing to show up for." Sometimes simply being visible, staying present, and waving hello communicates that you are working on the community's behalf.
Models like "food as medicine" taught me how health can be woven into the cultural and spiritual fabric of a community—through discipleship (one person telling another) and through engaging faith leaders to sustain conversations around food and nutrition. Finally, I learned that this work carries real challenges. There is the delivery challenge of keeping your word and staying visible even when funding disappears or your team is stretched thin. There is also the challenge of pace: disparities never stop, and a community's needs shift rapidly—from violence in one setting to food and water insecurity in another. The volume of meetings and follow-through can be overwhelming, and the temptation to overpromise is dangerous. Communities extend grace, but they require authenticity in return.
Going forward, I will carry these lessons directly into my development as a physician. First, I will continue my uterine fibroid and redlining project, sustaining my collaboration with Morgan State University and translating the structural lessons I learned into rigorous, community-relevant research. This project models the kind of work I hope to continue—rooted in history, driven by data, and accountable to the communities most affected.
In my clinical practice, I will commit to cultural humility and shared decision-making as non-negotiable standards, particularly with patients who have been historically harmed by medicine. I will look for concrete ways to offer my transferable skills back to communities, whether through teaching, resource navigation (such as connecting patients to doulas or nutrition education), or simply showing up reliably over time.