With a master’s in healthcare leadership from Brown, an ob/gyn refines cancer care in his hometown.

When Pedro Escobar Rodriguez, MD, moved back to his hometown of San Juan in 2013 to take care of his sick father—after long ob/gyn stints at Northwestern University and the Cleveland Clinic—he was shocked to find out how much Puerto Rico lacked in terms of health care.

“The technology was behind, the insurance landscape more challenging, and affordable medical choices limited,” he says. He wanted not only to practice medicine there but to attain a deep understanding of the systems he’d need to upgrade services on his native island.

So he applied and was accepted to the Executive Master’s Program in Healthcare Leadership within Brown’s School of Professional Studies. Students are working adults who come to campus only a few times over about an 18-month period; the rest of the work is done remotely. “I liked the program’s blend of finance and management with classes on policy, quality, and leadership,” says Escobar, who chose it over postgraduate health-management programs at Harvard and Dartmouth. “It just felt more balanced.”

But once he was in, things got crazy. He found himself working in oncological ob/gyn at San Jorge Children’s Hospital in San Juan, performing women’s cancer-related surgeries in the middle of last fall’s Hurricane Irma, during which he all but lived at the hospital because the power was out in his own home, where he lives with his wife and kids. (He also needed the Internet at work for his many Brown papers due.)

“I was going nonstop from about 5 a.m. to 3 a.m.,” he recalls. “My program director at Brown said that I could take the year off, but I wanted to graduate with my own classmates.”

Continue reading here.

If you happen to have a seatbelt, now would be a good time to put it on.

Things started getting bumpy for Mike Zahalsky on Episode 9 of Survivor: Heroes vs. Healers vs. Hustlers. But first, it was reward challenge time. The castaways were randomly divided into two teams of five and had to perform a series of maneuvers then shoot balls into baskets. Zahalsky’s team won the reward: a pleasure cruise around the Fijian islands while dining on gourmet sandwiches, wine or beer, and chocolate cake.

Once back on land, the dirty business of alliances, strategy, and backstabbing was on. The alliance of seven — the “round table” — was carrying on with its plan to vote off the remaining Healers. Former Marine Ben took charge, ordering the members to split their votes for Cole and Zahalsky. That way, if a hidden immunity idol was played, they’d be assured that a Healer would be eliminated either way.

But some members bristled at Ben’s dictator-like edict, and questioned why plan B should be the affable Dr. Mike when the always-annoying Joe was ripe for picking. Lauren won the immunity idol, keeping her safe from elimination, though as one of the seven, she was presumably safe anyway.

At tribal council, things got even more interesting. Zahalsky openly questioned the alliance’s strategy, calling it immoral to leave a player in the game that everyone hates. That led to a philosophical debate about the game of Survivor. All of it was Zahalsky’s attempt to draw some fire his way, with the intention that he would then play his immunity idol, nullifying any votes that he received. In the end, just two votes were cast for him. Ultimately, Cole was eliminated, making him the second member of the jury who will choose the sole survivor.

That means Zahalsky is one of two Healers left. But will the alliance of seven hold? Find out next Wednesday at 8 p.m. EST on CBS.

In a doubleheader, Dr. Mike’s closest ally is double-crossed.

This week we were treated to two episodes of Survivor: Heroes vs. Healers vs. Hustlers—which consequently meant two eliminations.

Episode 10 opened with the castaways discussing Mike Zahalsky ‘95 MMS’98 MD’99 playing a surprise immunity idol at tribal council. They questioned his logic, since there was no imminent plan to vote for him, and no one knew he had the idol, making it a valuable commodity in later rounds.

In his confessional, Zahalsky said he was trying to play the game his own way, and he also didn’t want to be “the idiot who goes home with an immunity idol in his pocket.” While the move perplexed his fellow Healer Joe, ultimately it solidified their alliance of two. They even created a short-lived comedy act, dubbing themselves the Coconuts—a nod to Joe’s Jamaican heritage, and to Zahalsky’s—well, he’s a urologist.

Zahalsky demonstrated his pedidexterity, nearly winning a reward challenge that involved building a puzzle with his feet. But he eventually lost to Lauren. She used her reward of a cheeseburger lunch with three castaways of her choice to completely turn the game on its head.

Long story short: the alliance of seven is over, with Joe and Mike joining with Lauren, Devon, Ashley, and Ben to oust the presumably invulnerable Chrissy, Ryan, and J.P. Ben is playing double agent, though, letting those three think he remains tight with them.

At tribal council, Ashley won immunity, teeing up the blindside nicely. While the majority thought the plan was to vote for Joe, the turncoats voted for J.P., sending him to the jury. Jaws dropped and multiple choruses of “what just happened?” followed the tribe back to camp.

On Episode 11, the rattled Chrissy and Ryan sought to make new alliances. Ryan reached out to Zahalsky, who rebuffed him, saying he had wanted to work with Ryan all along and Ryan didn’t want to. Now that Ryan needed him, Dr. Mike wasn’t going along with it.

Chrissy won the immunity challenge, keeping her safe. But the new alliance wasn’t done with blindsides. After assuring Joe and Mike that they would be voting for Ben in this super-tight alliance, they ultimately voted for Joe. Cue more looks of surprise.

And where does this leave Dr. Mike? We’ll find out next Wednesday at 8 p.m. EST.

Alliances are in ashes after a particularly stormy episode of ‘Survivor.’

Some episodes of CBS’s Survivor: Heroes vs. Healers vs. Hustlers play out like a smooth sea, others like a dangerous ocean swell. Episode 12 was more like a hurricane for which a category has not yet been designated.

After a rehash of Joe being voted out in episode 11 (seriously, it’s been brewing for ages), the reward challenge offered a heartwarming prize: a barbeque with a loved one from home.

While every tearful reunion was touching, Mike Zahalsky ’95 MMS’98 MD’99 introducing his wife, Bari, to his competitors would have made the Grinch’s heart grow three sizes.. When Zahalsky thanked Bari for supporting him in playing Survivor―“the most selfish thing I’ve ever done,” he said―she quickly added, “This is the only selfish thing he’s ever done.” Awww.

Chrissy won the chance-based challenge and picked Zahalsky, Ashley, Lauren and Ryan­—along with their family members—for an afternoon barbecue. Being Survivor, there was a healthy dose of plotting at the reward gathering, wherein Chrissy tried to forge an anti-Ben coalition.

Back at camp, Ben encouraged the “alliance of four” (Ben, Lauren, Devon, and Ashley) to oust Chrissy, while the secret “alliance of three” (Lauren, Devon, and Ashley) debated whether Ben or Chrissy should be next to go. Meanwhile, Lauren found the first half of an immunity idol, with a note that the second half was waiting at the immunity challenge. Sound confusing? We had no idea what we were in for.

After Ashley won an immunity challenge, which stretched pain tolerance to the limit, and Lauren gathered the second half of her idol, it was back to camp to scheme.

Ben overheard the secret alliance’s plans and tried to get the remaining players (Zahalsky, Ryan, and Chrissy) to axe Lauren. But Dr. Mike had had enough of being double-crossed by Ben and immediately conveyed Ben’s no-longer-secret plan to the no-longer-secret “alliance of three.”

All pretense and diplomacy were eschewed: it was open season on Ben, Chrissy, and Lauren.

As tribal council opened the players were on edge, with alliance members taking swipes at one another. Zahalsky threw Lauren’s bridge-building idol into the fire, and chaos erupted. Players shouted, Ben declared he’s voting for Lauren, Zahalsky and Ryan openly talked shop, Chrissy and Devon ran over to whisper in Dr. Mike’s ear. It was pandemonium.

Everyone was finally ushered into the voting booth. Just as the host, Jeff, was about to read the results, Ben pulled out a secret immunity idol. Cue Jeff reading vote after vote for Ben, none of which counted due to the idol. The lone vote for Lauren was enough to eliminate her.

Be sure to rest up before next Wednesday’s episode at 8 p.m. EST on CBS.

Alum Mike Zahalsky heads into the finale (mostly) unscathed.

Despite the nail-biting suspense of this week’s tribal council on Survivor: Heroes vs. Healers vs. Hustlers, there’s still a doctor in the house—er, on the island—as Mike Zahalsky ’95 MMS’98 MD’99 managed to hang on.

After last week’s prime target, Ben, used an immunity idol to escape elimination, the mood at camp was edgy. Ben spent the whole episode searching for another idol as the rest of the tribe openly discussed trying to vote him out. Again.

The reward challenge saw random partners navigating an obstacle course while tethered to a rope, and while Zahalsky and Ryan put in a good showing, winners Chrissy and Devon were whisked away to a plush resort with their chosen guest, Ryan. Perplexingly, Devon accepted Chrissy and Ryan’s pitch to leave his old alliance behind and join up with his former betrayer, Ryan. Survivor comes at you fast.

Dr. Mike boosters may recall his hope of winning an immunity challenge before his time comes to a close, but this week didn’t go his way. After navigating an obstacle course, tossing balls to operate ladders, and completing a gear puzzle, Chrissy was victorious—and rapidly refocused her aim from Ben to Ashley.

Going into tribal council, it was unclear who agreed with Chrissy’s shift or whether Ben had found an immunity idol. After tribe members aired their grievances against Ben, he revealed—and played—a newly found idol, meaning he could not be voted off. With some dramatic explosion sound effects and giddy giggles, Ben literally pointed fingers at Zahalsky. Ashley and Devon seemed to be nodding along to Ben’s plan, while Chrissy and Ryan remained inscrutable.

Luckily for Dr. Mike, all but one vote was for Ashley.

Tune in next week when the season wraps with a two-hour finale, Wednesday, Dec. 20, at 8 p.m. EST on CBS.

In Survivor‘s wild finale, urologist Mike Zahalsky doesn’t make the cut.

The second half of season 35 of Survivor: Heroes vs. Healers vs. Hustlers dished out ample erratic behavior, unexpected twists, and lawless tribal councils, Mike Zahalsky ’95 MMS’98 MD’99 managed to survive them all.

But the “Survivor gods” squirreled away even more surprises for Wednesday’s season finale. In addition to two more player eliminations and a chance for the final three survivors to plead their case to a jury of former tribal members, the final winner was announced in front of a live audience in Los Angeles.

After Ben, the prime target for two weeks running, slid through last week’s tribal council by the grace of a second immunity idol, his teammates opted for some shut-eye. This left Ben free to search for a third idol—his only hope for surviving another elimination. Which he did. Again.

Unaware of Ben’s success, Chrissy, Devon, and Zahalsky planned to convince Ben they’d found an idol at the reward meal. But when Ben takes the “news” of Chrissy’s “idol” surprisingly well, Devon suspected he possessed yet another #BenBomb and decided to vote for Zahalsky at tribal council.

Removing all the votes for Ben left one vote for Devon and one vote for Zahalsky. After a re-vote, the tenacious Brown alum bid farewell to Survivor as a competitor, though he did get to stick around to vote on the season’s winner.

Finally, with no more idols for Ben to find, Chrissy won a last, fiddly immunity puzzle and got a new-to-the-series secret advantage: the power to pick one person to join her as a member of the final three, with the remaining member to be determined by a fire-building challenge.

Chrissy, Devon, and Ryan all agreed that Ryan is fairly useless at challenges, so she selected Devon to challenge Ben. Despite being the camp’s de facto campfire starter, Devon was unable to start a spark in the time Ben nurtured a big, burning flame, and he once again narrowly escaped elimination.

Before a jury of their former teammates, the final three pleaded their cases to be crowned Survivor and take home the $1 million prize: Ben, as a military veteran who overcame post-traumatic stress disorder to inspire his family and fellow veterans; Chrissy, as a mom who pushed beyond her physical limits and never gave up on her dreams; and Ryan, a superfan who insists that most of the power moves that happened were indirectly due to his machinations. Some arguments were more convincing than others.

Flash-forward to a live audience and a nicely cleaned up cast along with enthusiastic families: each of the final three received at least one vote from the jury, but Ben won in a landslide—and was promptly engulfed in hugs.

Keep an eye on Brown Medicine for Zahalsky’s inside scoop on the whole season.

A therapy originally developed to treat cancer could help children with this rare, fatal disease to live longer.

A study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association suggests that an experimental drug therapy can extend the lives of children with progeria, a rare genetic disorder that causes premature aging and death.

The research showed that children with progeria who were treated with lonafarnib, a drug originally developed to treat cancer, were more likely to survive over the course the study compared with children with progeria who did not receive the drug. The study is preliminary, but the researchers say the results suggest a promising avenue for treating a condition for which there are currently no approved therapies.

“This study provides supporting evidence that we can begin to put the brakes on the rapid aging process for children with progeria,” says Leslie Gordon ScM’91 MD’98 PhD’98, lead author and a professor of pediatrics (research). “These results provide new promise and optimism to the progeria community.”

The study took place at Boston Children’s Hospital, Brown University, and Hasbro Children’s Hospital.  Researchers followed 27 children with progeria who had taken twice-daily doses of lonafarnib in a clinical trial at Boston Children’s. The study group was compared to a group of 27 children of similar age who had progeria but were not part of the trial and did not receive the drug. The study showed a significantly lower mortality rate in the group receiving lonafarnib treatment. After two years, mortality in the treatment group was 3.7 percent, compared to 33.3 percent in the untreated group.

Francis Collins, MD, PhD, director of the National Institutes of Health, led the lab that first identified the mutation that causes progeria.

“My lab did some of the original research on cellular and mouse models that showed potential benefit of this class of drugs for progeria,” says Collins, who was not involved in the new study. “It was encouraging to see those results translated into a clinical trial.”

Gordon is medical director of the Progeria Research Foundation, which funded the research. She and her husband, Scott Berns, MD, MPH, clinical professor of pediatrics, cofounded the nonprofit organization in 1999 after the couple’s son, Sam, was diagnosed. Sam died in 2014 at age 17.

Read the full story here.

How did humans evolve to have reason, consciousness, and free will? An excerpt from Kenneth Miller’s latest book, The Human Instinct.

I’m hoping for a clear sky tonight. It’s expected to be the peak of the annual Perseid meteor shower, a chance to glory in streaks of sudden fire as fragments of a comet come crashing through the Earth’s atmosphere. In between those moments of spectacle, there will be a chance to lie still in the darkness and absorb the quiet beauty of the nighttime sky. The experience has always made me feel small against the vastness of space, but it’s also one that has helped me, as a biologist, appreciate what it means to be human. Although I expect to be alone in my small backyard, I’m not the only one who will be looking up tonight. Tens of thousands of people will be watching around the world, a quiet and widely scattered assembly of those who remain fascinated by such events year after year.

Consider the setting. Joined by these many others, I’ll lie back against the surface of a small, rocky planet, peering up in wonder at the twinkling riot of forms and colors and patterns. The sparkling fire of the meteors is new, generated only a fraction of a second before it flashes across the sky. The tapestry of starlight, however, is a sampling of history, some of it unimaginably ancient. I orient myself by Polaris, the north star, fully aware that the stream of steady light it provides is more than four hundred years old. Sirius is much brighter, owing to its nearby position. Its light took just eight and a half years to reach me.

Of all the creatures, of all the forms of life that grace the surface of this small planet, there is only one that looks this way into the nighttime sky. Only one knows the Perseid spectacular is coming. Only one plots the distances to stars. Only one contemplates the age of its universe, only one is aware of the mysteries to be solved in starlight. While all of life is one, while all of life is linked by ancestry, structure, and design, only the human creature seeks answers to questions in the stars. This is what makes it worthwhile to consider how this creature came to be, and what its presence on this planet means.

Adam’s Promise
For people in Western cultures, the character of Adam once defined the essence of human nature both in promise and tragedy. As author Marilynne Robinson ’66 has noted, the story of evolution brought on the collapse of the Genesis narrative, and with it, in her view, the enlightened humanism that produced Western civilization and gave birth to the very science that would, ironically, lay waste to the myth of Eden itself. To her and many others, Adam was much more than a pseudo-explanation for the origin of our species. He was the metaphorical source of man as a moral creature with obligations to family, community, and ultimately to the righteousness of truth. While evolution is surely true, as Robinson admits, what it put in Adam’s place was hardly a satisfactory image to replace these fine qualities:

For old Adam, that near-angel whose name means Earth, Darwinists have substituted a creature who shares essential attributes with whatever beast has recently been observed behaving shabbily in the state of nature. Genesis tries to describe human exceptionalism, and Darwinism tries to discount it.

I think Robinson is fundamentally wrong about the implications of what she calls “Darwinism.” That is, in fact, my reason for writing this book. But she is surely right about the conclusions many have drawn from the emerging story of human evolution. We could begin with the very exceptionalism she tries so valiantly to defend. Henry Gee, in his book The Accidental Species, also discounted such exceptionalism. Nothing, he wrote, is uniquely present in our species, including attributes such as language, toolmaking, intelligence, mathematics, or even self-awareness. So, we have no reason to presume ourselves special, unique or, as Gee gleefully points out, the “pinnacle of Creation.” We’re just not that big a deal, and we have no business thinking otherwise.

Gee’s gospel of insignificance states that evolution was not bound to produce us or anything like us. The drama of evolution plays out not in an irresistible rise to perfection, but in a random walk through endless possibilities, none more significant than the other, none especially worthy of our attention.

If these constructions tend to devalue human life just a bit, in the eyes of many interpreters of “Darwinism,” there are even more depressing findings to deal with. Our bodies, our minds, our behaviors have all been shaped by the harsh demands of survival in the face of the relentless pressures of natural selection. As a result, however sophisticated we may seem, we are rude creatures at heart, motivated by drives and values that serve principally to propagate our genes and ensure our own survival and that of our kin. As Richard Dawkins once wrote, “Let us try to teach generosity and altruism, because we are born selfish.” The endowments of evolution apparently include a surplus of ruthless greed and aggression, but a deep and telling absence of love and kindness, virtues that, according to Dawkins, are not inherent in our species and can only be passed along by deliberate effort.

To all too many, the answers that emerge from the Darwinian narrative are dark, foreboding, and deeply unsettling. First among these is the conviction that our minds are not our own. They surely were not formed in the image and likeness of a supreme being, and they were not even fashioned in a way that allows us to seek the truth of our own existence. Rather, our brains are organs like any other, only one component of a survival machine designed to resist death just long enough to push its genes forward into the next generation of struggling, highly socialized primates. Evolutionary psychology can explain our moral values as instinctive behavioral patterns hewn only by selection for life within the group. Art is made to attract mates, altruism is practiced for selfish reasons, even if we “think” otherwise, and “truth” is a constructive illusion connected only loosely to an unknowable reality. Freedom of thought and action is part of that illusion, a lie the brain tells itself to allow the human animal to function in a way that enhances its chances of success. High culture is not the work of genius, but the product of chance adaptations working in many brains to sculpt a veneer of beauty around the mundane realities of life and struggle. Beauty itself is defined only by its ability to produce such illusions as allow us to go on under the absurd circumstances of personal futility and ultimate death.

Seen by those who would explain every impulse, from anger to joy to love, in Darwinian terms, the human project seems worthy of neither pride in past nor hope for the future. If even consciousness is an illusion, then it is pointless to contemplate that future, seek wisdom in the past, or celebrate human achievement. By contrast, the myth of Adam once affirmed a genuine humanity. It told us that choices were freely made, that their consequences were genuine, and that rebellion made possible by truly independent thought was an essential part of human nature. It was for such reasons that Marilynne Robinson lamented the “death of Adam” in terms like these:

Our hypertrophic brain, that prodigal indulgence, that house of many mansions, with its stores, and competences, and all its deep terrors and very right pleasures, which was so long believed to be the essence of our lives, and a claim on another’s sympathy and courtesy and attention, is going the way of every part of collective life that was addressed to it—religion, art, dignity, graciousness.

While certainly not a creationist in the sense of denying evolution, Robinson perfectly articulates the profound concerns of those who recoil from extremes of the “Darwinism” she describes in such chilling terms. But her view of evolution as a denial of human nature, as a nihilistic project that devalues not just religion, but art, music, literature, and even science, is, I believe, profoundly wrong. What evolution tells us about human nature projects an entirely different vision of our species. It invites us to revel in the living world of which we are a part and to see ourselves as central characters in the greatest drama the universe has yet brought forth. It is a story that fully matches the sense of grandeur with which Charles Darwin once tried to endow his greatest theory, and we should delight in telling it.

A doctor on deployment treats more than the individual.

Looking out across the vast desert, I see a massive wall of sand and dust rapidly approaching our position. This colossal and ominous force of nature is one of the bigger sand storms we have experienced while deployed to the Middle East.

It is exhilarating to be halfway across the world in a land invaded by countless nations over time. The climate is oppressively hot and the wildlife almost alien. Although seemingly devoid of life in most places, this region is rich in cultural history. Even so, I sometimes wonder how humans have managed to live here for so many years.

My unit is deployed here for six months. We are on an Air Base that has supported US and coalition military forces for nearly two decades. I am one of several medical officers on base, but I am attached to the only Marine Corps infantry battalion deployed to this region.

Deploying for the first time with my unit to this part of the world has been a culture shock. It is certainly different than practicing medicine in a hospital setting. At the same time, I have learned so much in my few months on the ground. It has been more than just keeping the sand out of my eyes; more than just seeing patients in clinic. Practicing medicine in an operational and deployed setting presents unique challenges and has forced me to learn lessons I could learn nowhere else.

Battle Ready
Having to work with limited resources forces a provider to decide whether they can give adequate care on site or must transfer a patient to another facility. I have run into this issue multiple times. I recall one patient whom I believed had a kidney stone. He was in quite a lot of pain, and his blood work showed signs of kidney injury. Normally I would send him to the emergency department for a CT scan. Here, however, transferring a patient to a hospital with imaging capabilities would be a four- to five-hour process requiring much coordination: putting together a mission summary memorandum, requesting command approval, obtaining vehicles for transport, and making sure the weather will permit ground movement. Until now, I had never been involved with the logistical side of medicine. But without a logistical framework in place, adequate medical treatment cannot be provided here.

Another challenge has been the sheer volume of men and women who fall under my care. We deployed with almost 1,000 Marines and sailors who are now spread out across multiple countries in the region. Preparation and pre-screening alone are difficult: pre-deployment HIV testing, mandatory neurocognitive examinations for all personnel, screening for disqualifying medical conditions, and more. Travel to different countries also requires certain vaccinations, such as polio. Prophylactic malaria medications are required for others. This process is necessary to prepare our troops for battle, but it can certainly be cumbersome and time consuming.

One of the more interesting differences in practicing medicine in the military is the way patient privacy is treated, especially while deployed to a combat zone. Until now I had considered this a fundamental, relatively unbreakable principle of patient care. What is discussed in the exam room stays between patient and provider. In this setting, however, there is some gray area when it comes to privacy.

More than once a Marine has approached me wanting to discreetly discuss a medical issue. Usually their first question is whether any information will be shared with command leadership. The response to this question is not a simple “yes” or “no.” Privacy must be respected, but the command needs to be notified if a patient presents a risk to themselves, others, or the mission. Often there is a lot of discretion left to the provider on how to handle these situations.

What do you do when someone discloses a preexisting medical condition? Take, for example, a Marine who admits he was diagnosed with Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome several years before. He is fully functional and exercises every day but sometimes experiences palpitations. By regulation, this is a disqualifying condition and he should not be deployed. From a medical perspective, he warrants evaluation by an electrophysiologist and possibly an ablation procedure, which could be curative. At the same time, the chances of him developing a fatal arrhythmia while on deployment are small. In all likelihood he could finish out this deployment without any problems. Additionally, this particular Marine’s absence would create a significant leadership gap if he were to be sent home, not to mention the tax dollars that would then be spent to fly out a Marine to replace him. In the end, there is no way to reliably predict what will occur, but a judgment call must be made.

Perhaps it is wrong to consider what effect medical decisions will have on a unit’s operational readiness. Some would argue that medical decisions should be made solely with the patient in mind. While there is some merit to this, I believe military medical providers must strike a balance between what is good for the unit and what is good for the patient. I cannot make my decisions in a vacuum: I have to consider how my decisions and interventions will affect my unit’s warfighting ability. Sometimes this means going against a patient’s wishes. Sometimes it involves bending regulations in extenuating circumstances. Just as often, though, I must make medical decisions that my command leadership does not support. Going against a superior officer is difficult but can be necessary for a patient’s sake. In many ways I act as a liaison between the medical and operational communities, which means I need to be well-versed on both sides.

Working with a Marine Corps infantry battalion has been an eye-opening experience. Some days are difficult, physically and emotionally. Learning to navigate between the medical and military communities has been an exercise in adaptability and mental fortitude. The greatest reward is becoming part of a brotherhood that has stood the test of time for more than 200 years. I am not a Marine. I do not hold a rifle in battle. In reality, I am an outsider within my unit. But I feel a sense of belonging here that I have felt nowhere else. My career as a military medical provider is only just starting, and I consider it an honor and a privilege to be where I am now. I would exchange this experience for nothing. Semper Fi.

Bad hair day.

“From an early age I understood that hair had power,” Rohina Gandhi-Hoffman ’90 MD’94 says. “At the age of 7, my own two ponytails were chopped off very unceremoniously and for a good part of my childhood I sported a boy’s haircut. … The trauma of losing control of my identity has stayed with me my entire life.” Gandhi-Hoffman explores women’s relationships with their hair in her “Hair Stories” project. She photographed and interviewed almost three dozen women of varying ethnicities and ages about their hair. She discovered that “hair is a language, a shield, and a trophy,” she says. “Hair is a construct reflecting our identity, history, femininity, personality, our innermost feelings of self-doubt, aging, vanity, and self-esteem.” A neurologist in California, Gandhi-Hoffman took her first photography class at the Rhode Island School of Design while a student in the Program in Liberal Medical Education at Brown. Her photography will come full circle in January 2019 when “Hair Stories,” Hoffman’s first solo exhibition, will be mounted at the Warren Alpert Medical School. You can see her work and read her subjects’ stories at womenshairstories.com.