My concept of health formed in childhood: By first grade, I had experienced strep throat, measles, mumps, rubella, chicken pox and a near-fatal case of scarlet fever.
To me, recovering from those infections meant I was healthy again. I defined health as the opposite of sickness. Free from disease, I was in class when my elementary school teacher shared lessons about eating well, and at the dinner table when we ate greens distributed from neighbors’ gardens, or when my father shared fresh fish he caught on weekends. On the playground, I saw parents discourage bullying. In doing so, they fostered community connectedness.
I came to realize that these things, too, were health.
My freedom to walk to school and play sports was supported by my town’s commitment to funding crossing guards and parks; children could stay safe and active. Local policies requiring upkeep of our apartment building reduced the threat of lead poisoning from paint. News stories about injured coal miners reminded me that certain jobs clearly threatened well-being. My elders shared how spirituality helped them through hard times — even illness.
These things taught me, slowly, that health isn’t the same as “not sick.” Instead, it exists where people live, learn, work, play and pray. In learning that, I also learned that the conditions that comprise our health — one part physical, one part mental, one part spiritual and one part the world around us — are all critically important.
Those lessons unfolded alongside community-driven efforts to assure equity. Our local public health department administered free immunizations; public housing included accessible apartments; and a parent-led school desegregation case, ultimately decided in the U.S. Supreme Court, resulted in closure of our town’s inferior, segregated public elementary school. Its black students finally gained access to higher-quality education — close to home. The chances to stay healthy, to live capably in the community and to achieve an excellent education were not determined by individual behaviors. Rather, they were fostered by the intentional creation of excellent systems of health, of housing and of education. I am grateful to have learned early that equity means creating systems that allow people to choose what they need for their well-being. That is the work I foster inside Dell Med and with our communities.
These are the things that I mean when I say “health.”