Q: How long have you been a GSA member?
A: I’ve been a part of the Gerontological Society of America (GSA) for over a decade (since 2014)—a space that’s felt like home, fostering connection, reflection, and a shared sense of purpose.
Q: How specifically has membership in GSA benefitted you?
A: GSA has broadened my perspective on aging well beyond clinical boundaries. It’s illuminated the social, cultural, and ethical dimensions of aging through dialogue with a remarkably diverse community—biologists decoding cellular mechanisms, psychologists exploring emotion, nurses sharing bedside truths, policy experts navigating systemic change, and artists expressing what words often can’t.
These brilliant, sometimes messy conversations transformed aging for me—from a clinical puzzle into a deeply human experience. GSA also connected me with academic colleagues who care as fiercely as I do. I’ve found collaborators who became friends, and thought leaders who sharpened my questions. These relationships have stretched me—as a physician, researcher, and writer.
Q: How did you get interested in the field of aging?
A: My path to geriatrics and palliative care began with witnessing family members navigate their final chapters. Ten years working as a nursing home physician sealed it. I found my calling in that often-quiet, overlooked space—relational, unhurried, and profoundly real.
It’s also where storytelling took hold of me. People entrusted me with their memories—regrets, jokes, resilience, and fears. That curiosity led me to study the “oldest old,” eventually building one of the largest cohorts of male centenarians and conducting over 100 interviews. One patient, 102, told me: “I’ve outlived two primary care doctors, three wives, and two wars—stubbornness is my secret.” That blend of grit and adaptation continues to shape my view of aging
Q: What projects are you working on in your current position?
A: As the inaugural Division Head, I’m still building my team while working at the intersection of clinical care, education, research, and advocacy. My focus is on developing care models that holistically support older adults—especially those living with serious illness.
I’m leading UMSOM’s first cannabis clinical trial, which focuses on patients with advanced Alzheimer’s disease and related dementias who experience agitation. This population is often excluded from innovation, despite carrying a significant burden. Our trial aims to offer both relief and dignity where few options exist.
I’m also engaged in multidisciplinary projects —from outcomes research in palliative care and geriatric workforce development to state-level advocacy aimed at expanding compassionate release policies for incarcerated elders. What unites these efforts is a shared commitment to justice, humanity, and reshaping systems to meet people’s real needs—not just their diagnoses or settings
Q: What do you love most about your line of work?
A: I cherish the academic freedom to think deeply, write thoughtfully, and challenge assumptions. Equally, I value the spirit of ongoing learning and collaboration that defines our field. I’ve grown immensely through peer review—refining others’ work while welcoming critique of my own. When we engage one another generously and rigorously, we elevate our collective impact.
In my clinical role, I am privileged to accompany individuals and families as they stand at the edge of loss. Sometimes I offer medical insight—but more often, quiet companionship, guiding them through uncertainty and grief. Creating realistic hope amid suffering is intimate, demanding, and profoundly human.
As Program Director of our Geriatric Fellowship, I find joy in mentoring early-career physicians as they discover their voice. I teach them that caring for older adults is an act of discernment, curiosity, and empathy. I encourage them to observe with intention, question inherited practices, and reimagine approaches that truly serve those in our care.
Q: What was the best piece of advice you got early on in your career you’d like to pass on to emerging gerontologists?
A: The best advice I received was simple: Wherever you are, be all there.
In a field as demanding as ours, it’s easy to be pulled in every direction. But the most meaningful moments—at a patient’s bedside, in a hallway with a student, or while wrestling with a grant application—come when we are fully present.
I’d also add: take care of yourself. Our work is sacred, but it’s also exhausting. Find your anchor. I’m a terrible cook, but I live for good food and laughter with friends. Those moments of joy sustain me just as much as any professional achievement.