About me
I am an 18 year old Jamaican-American who grew up in Brooklyn, New York. My Jamaican culture has undoubtably been one of the biggest influences in my life. One of my favorite cultural deserts is Jamaican potato pudding. Its aromatic smell managed to mask the scent of ailments within my family, and its preparation was a filler for open conversations regarding health.
The kitchen was always a place where I could expect to see rough potato skins transform into delicate shreds through repetitive grating motions. When you grow older, and revisit childhood memories, you begin to see just how many things you were oblivious to.
A simple potato pudding slice was enough to thin the air and avert my attention from the larger issues at hand. I was so focused on potato skins, that I never noticed the cerasee and dandelion leaves that would lurk in the corner. When I was able to identify these leaves as a currency whose value reflects a history of medical injustice, my view on the world changed forever.
I noticed that my family members often forged their strength from necessity rather than being nurtured through care. This is crusted at the top and bottom of their stories. This is why I always strive to place myself between them —in the moist middle.
In my family, self-advocacy has been mistaken for self-management. I do not simply take matters into my own hands. I stay in tune with my body and address issues as they arise. I use my voice as a tool to challenge ideas about black women needing to be strong all the time. I am vulnerable, and I don’t want to toughen up. I want the things around me to soften.
My vulnerability and moments of doubt allow me to feel strong because I am feeling things my family members may have never allowed themselves to feel. My strength comes from choosing to find beauty and purpose in every situation, not from pretending to be joyous. I can now confidently say that having a tough outward appearance is overrated since we are never alone.
This blog grows from that same place of being shaped by biology, history and culture. Where inherited resilience intersects with inherited inequalities. In these instances it becomes more clear that the body and society cannot be separated.
I want to spend my life unpacking how our histories live in our bodies, how science and society shape each other, and just how important it is to understand both.
Fun fact: My birthday falls on National DNA Day! This often makes me feel like I was quite literally born to have these passions.
What InheritedDifference means to me?
The name InheritedDifference aims to concisely highlight the intersection between biology and race studies.
★“Inherited” refers to the literal biological process of inheriting DNA.
★“Difference” does not just point to genetic variation, but it alludes to the racial hierarchy humans have managed to build based on differences that are much smaller than we think.
When the two are combined, we get InheritedDifference. As society continuously runs its course, certain groups have inherited, and been condemned to, a state of indifference. Humanity has long magnified minor biological distinctions into systems of inequality.
I have always felt like I live at the crossroads of what InheritedDifference defines. My understanding of inheritance isn't just limited to genetic material. I take pride in the fact that I have inherited a history of resilience, but that history has often been tainted by misinformation. To me, difference feels less like a concept and more like a daily negotiation. My identity and history empower me, but in many ways act as a constraint.
InheritedDifference is my way of declaring that biology and society are not separate worlds. Science grows from life, and life is shaped by science. The study of biology is not confined to cells or organisms,it is the study of life, how humans exist, and of how meaning and matter intertwine. Through InheritedDifference, I aim to challenge the false boundaries that have divided what is “scientific” from what is “social.”
When we begin to read biology through the lens of lived experience and see race not as a biological truth, but as a story that biology has been forced to tell. InheritedDifference allows me to reclaim the narrative of my life, how it has been forcibly defined, studied and inherited.
Overall, InheritedDifference is a conversation about how we come to know ourselves. It invites us to question who benefits when science claims objectivity, and to recognize that even our most “neutral” ideas about life are rooted in history, power, and perspective.
Image credit:
"Untitled Image." Pinterest, uploaded by , Rishat Ansari, https://www.pinterest.com/pin/2885187257737377/ , Accessed 4 October 2025.
Motivation and Purpose
When I was young, I was insecure about my appearance. At eight years old, I got my first set of pimples. I looked in the mirror every day and picked at my skin. I finally convinced my mom to take me to a dermatologist, just to be told that the oil from my braids caused me to break out. By the time I was nine, I had far outgrown all the clothes sold in the kids' section. The next time I went for my yearly check-up, the pediatrician told me I had to watch what I ate. She said that black girls were more likely to be overweight. At ten, I started to wear glasses. The ophthalmologist said my prescription was strong for my age, but that can sometimes happen when hypertension runs in your family. During the developmental years of my life, my wavy hair, mid-sized figure, and obsidian-colored eyes became the traits of the antagonist. I became an anomaly in a world that circulates images of silky hair, ocean-blue eyes, and straight, flat figures.
However, the issue was not just being insecure but also about my blackness being tied to every problem I was facing. My experiences are manifestations of the systemic biases and discriminatory practices that negatively impact the healthcare of minority communities. My interactions with healthcare professionals who weren’t like me made me realize that no patient should ever bear the burden of any doctor’s ignorance. For example, The Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (PNAS) has recorded that, “Black Americans are systematically under-treated for pain relative to white Americans” (Hoffman et al., 2016). This kind of wrong-headed thinking becomes institutionalized within the medical profession, making experiences like mine feel insignificant.
I want to be the one to give patients the correct diagnosis, even though they may have been misdiagnosed their whole lives. I want to ensure that combating health inequity is rooted in all research projects, and is not just a side note. Each day, I aim to take steps towards my larger goal of being a trusted source for the care that Black and Brown communities need. In my story, I will be a protagonist and researcher who practices compassionate medicine. I know what it’s like to be misunderstood, and I want anyone who needs my care to feel safe.
With much love,
Ronae ♡♡♡