One day in 2013, I was walking the halls of the Longworth House Office Building, carrying a stack of papers and feeling nervous but determined.

Congress hadn’t yet passed the budget. This triggered a series of automatic cuts to federal services, including the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP).

I had scheduled meetings with House Agriculture Committee members and their staff. While I shared the many ways that SNAP cuts would affect health and hunger—especially for children—one staffer listened skeptically. Before leaving, I gave him a one-page summary of the evidence. As I left the room, I saw him toss it in the trash.

I was angry in that moment. But I went back into the hall and did the best thing I could. I knocked on the next door. And the next. And the next. Because I kept going, our analysis would eventually be cited by members of Congress and help limit the scale of the cuts.

As I begin my journey as dean of the Bloomberg School, in this hard season for public health, I remember this day and so many like it. I think of the many setbacks, risks, and failures we endure on our way to making change.

Since January, drastic research funding cuts, workforce reductions, and policy changes have fundamentally shifted the public health landscape. We’re working in a difficult and defining moment—but it’s one that we are made for.

Public health has always been political. It has always demanded courage. There’s nothing easy about driving lifesaving change on the greatest scale, but we do it every day, with equal measures of grit and idealism.

As we look to the hard work before us, I am focused on three values at the heart of public health—values that will be critical to meet the challenges ahead.

The first is perseverance.

I am the proud daughter of parents from the Caribbean. Each immigrated to the U.S. in search of opportunity. They met in Brooklyn, married, and moved to the suburbs, dreaming of a middle-class life and a healthy family.

My parents worked hard but still struggled. In search of more income, my mother went back to school. I still remember her at the ironing board, pressing clothes with one hand and highlighting her nursing school texts with the other.

My family always taught me that I was made for a purpose. I did not find that purpose overnight. But through a public health course and mentorship, I was drawn to the promise and possibility of helping more people. I knew my dreams, like those of my parents, would be hard-won.

In public health, the goals are big and the strategies complex. Whether we are seeking to change health infrastructure or shift human behavior, the only thing we can’t do is quit.

The second value is humility.

In 2018, I worked on a project to bring “Play Streets” to rural communities that lacked playgrounds. By shutting down a single street at a designated time, we could create safe, accessible places for children and families to stay active.

This was not a simple task, but a years-long effort to gain community input and buy-in. In North Carolina, we engaged deeply with a local church. Sometimes, I flew there to spend just 15 minutes sharing our ideas with church leaders. I also traveled many times to partner with Choctaw Nation leaders in Oklahoma. We were not there to dictate what should happen, but to actively listen and create shared goals. All those hours and all those miles helped us to create Play Streets that were safe, effective, joyful—and sustained by the community.

We in public health need to start with curiosity, not judgment, to understand others’ perspectives and effectively and empathetically explain our own. Above all, community voices need to be centered, and power shared.

The third value is hope.

While despair can lead to paralysis, hope pushes us forward.

As difficult as this moment is, I hold onto hope because I have seen how public health can bring people together to drive real change. In recent years, Bloomberg School research has fueled a landmark gun safety act and helped lower prescription drug prices. These were federal, bipartisan victories on issues vital to the public’s health. They are proof of what is possible.

While despair can lead to paralysis, hope pushes us forward. It helps to remember that public health is truly everywhere, from our clean drinking water to the safe design of our roads. The work we do matters—it is promoting health and saving lives, every single day. At the heart of my wide-ranging work is the goal of creating a healthier, more just world. I’m proud to share that purpose with so many in the public health community.

The months and years ahead will test our mettle. Our science and our motives will be questioned. Some of our ideas and evidence may be tossed in the trash. But we cannot give up—or give in to despair. We must dig deep to the very best parts of ourselves and stay connected to the dreams and the values that brought us to public health.

There are more doors waiting, and we must keep knocking—with perseverance, with humility, and with hope.