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IN THIS ISSUE
During 2013, the remarkable centennial year of Harvard School of Public Health, I had the deeply gratifying experience of reflecting on the meaning and purpose of public health—both across the globe and in my own life. I circled this theme in writing, in conversation, in moments of solitude, and on occasions of exuberant celebration.
When Catlin Powers first stepped into a nomadic family’s canvas tent in the Chinese Himalayas, she was overpowered by the smell of burning yak dung, the traditional source of fuel. She almost choked on the thick yellow smoke that spewed out of the family’s stove and hung in the air. Her eyes and nose stung, and her eyes started watering—just like those of the woman leaning over the stove, boiling water for tea.
Growing up, Francesca Dominici lived about a mile from Ciampino Airport, the second busiest in Rome. As she remembers it, the greatest nuisance from the roar of aircraft over her home was that she couldn’t hear her friends when talking on the phone.
Harvard School of Public Health has set an ambitious goal of raising $450 million by 2018.