Indigenous people in the United States are at higher risk of fatal police violence in and around American Indian/Alaska Native (AIAN) reservations, according to the first comprehensive national study on the subject from researchers at the 91̽�� and Drexel University.

The study, recently published in , used data on the 203 AIAN people killed by police from 2013 through 2024. The researchers found that roughly 73%, or three out of four, AIAN people killed by police violence were on or within 10 miles of a reservation. Only about 40% of AIAN people — 50% when including multiracial AIAN people — live on or near reservations. The disproportionate risk held even after accounting for population density and rurality.

“My prior research has documented how policing on and around reservations functions as a form of sovereignty threat — where Indigenous peoples, their movement and their presence on their own lands are treated by law enforcement as problems to be managed,” said , co-author and associate professor of sociology at the UW. “This is the first study to measure what that looks like at the national level.”

The researchers hope the work will inform policy action to better protect Indigenous communities.

“We know that disinvestment in Indigenous communities living on reservations, along with unique policing models and police harassment on tribal lands, coincide with this disproportionate risk of fatal police violence,” said lead author , an assistant professor in Drexel’s Dornsife School of Public Health “Colonial policies designed to confine, displace and dispossess Indigenous peoples are not just history — they continue to shape who is killed by law enforcement today.”

Federal, state and tribal police were responsible for the majority of deaths on reservations, while municipal and county police were primarily responsible for deaths that occurred more than 10 miles away from reservations. The reasons police gave for stops also differed on and off tribal lands, with police giving no reason for stopping one in five people killed on reservations compared with about one in 10 people killed far from a reservation. The pattern reflects the jurisdictional fragmentation that has identified as central to the sovereignty threat.

“Indigenous communities have been documenting and resisting police violence for generations, from the American Indian Movement’s records of killings in the 1960s to youth-led protests happening right now,” Rocha Beardall said. “Researchers are still catching up. What this paper does is put rigorous population-level data behind what Native peoples have long understood about where this violence is concentrated and the risks it creates for their nations and communities.”

A high concentration of Indigenous people live in the borderlands surrounding a reservation, and frequently cross in and out. The researchers hypothesize that this flow — combined with frequent racial profiling of people traveling to and from reservations — could increase the likelihood of police encounters and account for an increase in deaths near reservations.

“Fatal interactions with law enforcement on reservations are structurally instigated — by entrenched poverty, poorly funded schools and chronically neglected health systems,” Schwartz said. “These inequities are vast and the structures holding them in place must be reimagined. That will likely require a lot of things: Indigenous-led prevention, stronger accountability for police and sustained public health investment.”

The researchers note that commonly proposed police reforms lack consistent evidence for reducing these inequities.��

More research is needed to measure specific drivers of the geographic disparity in deaths, the psychological and physical health impacts of fatal police violence for Indigenous communities, and what impact proposed solutions — such as Indigenous-led healing and wellness responses to crime and poverty — would have on fatal police violence rates.

of Drexel University was also a co-author.��

The study was partially supported by funding from the National Institutes of Health.

For more information, contact Rocha Beardall at tyrb@uw.edu.

This story was adapted from a release by .

Artificial intelligence systems absorb values from their training data. The trouble is that values differ across cultures. So an AI system trained on data from the entire internet won’t work equally well for people from different cultures.

But a new 91̽�� study suggests that AI could learn cultural values by observing human behavior. Researchers had AI systems observe people from two cultural groups playing a video game. On average, participants in one group behaved more altruistically. The AI assigned to each group learned that group’s degree of altruism, and was able to apply that value to a novel scenario beyond the one they were trained on.

The team Dec. 9 in PLOS One.��

“We shouldn’t hard code a universal set of values into AI systems, because many cultures have their own values,” said senior author , a 91̽��professor in the Paul G. Allen School of Computer Science & Engineering and co-director of the Center for Neurotechnology. “So we wanted to find out if an AI system can learn values the way children do, by observing people in their culture and absorbing their values.”

As inspiration, the team looked to showing that 19-month-old children raised in Latino and Asian households were more than those from other cultures.��

In the AI study, the team recruited 190 adults who identified as white and 110 who identified as Latino. Each group was assigned an AI agent, a system that can function autonomously.��

These agents were trained with a method called inverse reinforcement learning, or IRL. In the more common AI training method, reinforcement learning, or RL, a system is given a goal and gets rewarded based on how well it works toward that goal. In IRL, the AI system observes the behavior of a human or another AI agent, and infers the goal and underlying rewards. So a robot trained to play tennis with RL would be rewarded when it scores points, while a robot trained with IRL would watch professionals playing tennis and learn to emulate them by inferring goals such as scoring points.

This IRL approach more closely aligns with how humans develop.��

“Parents don’t simply train children to do a specific task over and over. Rather, they model or act in the general way they want their children to act. For example, they model sharing and caring towards others,” said co-author , a 91̽��professor of psychology and co-director of Institute for Learning & Brain Sciences (I-LABS). “Kids learn almost by osmosis how people act in a community or culture. The human values they learn are more ‘caught’ than ‘taught.’”

In the study, the AI agents were given the data of the participants playing a modified version of the video game Overcooked, in which players work to cook and deliver as much onion soup as possible. Players could see into another kitchen where a second player had to walk further to accomplish the same tasks, putting them at an obvious disadvantage. Participants didn’t know that the second player was a bot programmed to ask the human players for help. Participants could choose to give away onions to help the bot but at the personal cost of delivering less soup.��

Researchers found that overall the people in the Latino group chose to help more than those in the white group, and the AI agents learned the altruistic values of the group they were trained on. When playing the game, the agent trained on Latino data gave away more onions than the other agent.��

To see if the AI agents had learned a general set of values for altruism, the team conducted a second experiment. In a separate scenario, the agents had to decide whether to donate a portion of their money to someone in need. Again, the agents trained on Latino data from Overcooked were more altruistic.��

“We think that our proof-of-concept demonstrations would scale as you increase the amount and variety of culture-specific data you feed to the AI agent. Using such an approach, an AI company could potentially fine-tune their model to learn a specific culture’s values before deploying their AI system in that culture,” Rao said.��

Additional research is needed to know how this type of IRL training would perform in real-world scenarios, with more cultural groups, competing sets of values, and more complicated problems.

“Creating culturally attuned AI is an essential question for society,” Meltzoff said. “How do we create systems that can take the perspectives of others into account and become civic minded?”

, a 91̽��research engineer in the Allen School, and , a software engineer at Microsoft who completed this research as a 91̽��student, were co-lead authors. Other co-authors include , a scientist at the Allen Institute who completed this research as a 91̽��doctoral student; , an assistant professor at San Diego State University, who completed this research as a post-doctoral scholar at UW; and , a professor in the Allen School and director of the at UW.��

For more information, contact Rao at rao@cs.washington.edu.

While innovation is core to American identity, women inventors were named on only 13% of 2019 U.S. patents. In part, that’s because .��

Research by the 91̽�� and the United States Patent and Trademark Office, or USPTO, found that some simple interventions increased the probability that female inventors would get patents by 12%. For first-time applicants, that probability increased to 17%. The study, the first randomized controlled trial of inventors at the USPTO, followed inventors who applied “pro se,” meaning without the help of a lawyer. Researchers randomly assigned some senior patent examiners to provide extra help and encouragement navigating the complicated examination process.��

The paper was published in the of the American Economic Journal: Economic Policy.��

The study began in 2014, when USPTO created a unit to help pro se inventors through the patent process. The office selected 15 senior patent examiners, who received 20 hours of training on strategies to better assist pro se inventors. In the span of a year, 2,273 applications were divided between the treatment and control arms. Of those applications,��16% had more than half women inventors.

In the treatment arm, examiners used more encouraging language and gave more detailed responses in their first written decisions. They also prompted the applicants to call for an interview about the decision. Interviews increased 25% for both genders, but majority-women teams were 8% more likely to work out specific changes in those interviews.��

“This was a very effective, fairly low-cost program,” said author , a 91̽��assistant professor in the Information School. “There’s this ideal of the garage inventor tinkering with something, coming up with an idea to start a company. That group of people usually doesn’t have access to lawyers, so they apply as individuals. This intervention helped more people find success.”��

A full list of co-authors is included with the .

For more information, contact Teodorescu at miketeod@uw.edu.

While the period is viewed as a dynamic time in European and African history, it is commonly considered a static period in East Asia. New research from the 91̽�� challenges that perception.

Researchers discovered a complete — a method for making a set of tools — in the Longtan site in southwest China, which has been dated to about 50,000 to 60,000 years ago. Quina technology was found in Europe decades ago but has never before been found in East Asia.

The team published its findings March 31 in .

“This is a big upset to the way we think about that part of the world in that period of time,” said , co-author and 91̽��professor of archaeology. “It really raises the question of, what else were people doing during this period that we haven’t found yet? How is this going to change how we think about people and human evolution in this area?”

The Middle Paleolithic, or Middle Stone Age, occurred about 300,000 to 40,000 years ago and is considered a crucial time in human evolution. The period is associated with the origin and evolution of modern humans in Africa. In Eurasia, it’s linked to the development of several archaic human groups such as Neanderthals and Denisovans. However, there is a widely held belief that development in China was sluggish during most of the Paleolithic.

The Quina system identified in China has been dated to 55,000 years ago, which is in the same period as European finds. This disputes the idea that the Middle Paleolithic was stagnant in the region and deepens the understanding of , and possibly other hominins.

The most distinctive part of the Quina system is the scraper — a stone tool that is typically thick and asymmetrical with a broad and sharp working edge that has clear signs of use and resharpening. Researchers found several of these, as well as the byproducts of their manufacture. Tiny scratches and chips on the tools indicate they were used for scraping and scratching bones, antlers or wood.

Marwick said the question now becomes: how did this toolkit arrive in East Asia? Researchers will work to determine whether there is a direct connection — people moving gradually from west to east — or if the technology was invented independently with no direct contact between groups.

It will help if researchers can find an archaeological site with a deep set of layers, Marwick said, so they can see what tools developed before the appearance of Quina technology.

“We can try to see if they were doing something similar beforehand that Quina seemed to evolve out of,” Marwick said. “Then we might say that development seems to be more local — they were experimenting with different forms in previous generations, and they finally perfected it. Alternatively, if Quina appears without any sign of experimentation, that suggests this was transmitted from another group.”

There are likely several reasons why Quina technology has just now been found in East Asia. One factor, Marwick said, is that archaeologists working in China are learning more about archaeology in other parts of the world and how to recognize their findings. He said the pace of research is also increasing, which means archaeologists are more likely to find rarer artifacts.

“The idea that nothing has changed for such a long time in East Asia also has a tight grip on people,” Marwick said. “They haven’t been considering the possibility of finding things that challenge that. Now maybe there are some scholars who are interested in questioning those ideas.”

Much of archaeological discovery relies on luck, Marwick said, but one goal for the future is to uncover human remains in the area.

“That could answer the question of whether these tools are the product of a modern human like you and me,” Marwick said. “There have never been any Neanderthals found in East Asia, but could we find a Neanderthal? Or, more likely, could we find a Denisovan, which is another kind of human ancestor? If we can find the human remains associated with this period, we might find something surprising — maybe even a new human ancestor that we don’t know about yet.”

Other co-authors were Qi-Jun Ruan, Hao L, Pei-Yuan Xiao, Ke-Liang Zhao, Zhen-Xiu Jia and Fa-Hu Chen of the Chinese Academy of Sciences; Bo Li of the University of Wollongong in Australia, Hélène Monod of the Universitat Rovira i Virgili in Spain; Alexander Sumner of DePaul University; Jian-Hui Liu of the Yunnan Provincial Institute of Cultural Relics and Archaeology; Chun-Xin Wang and An-Chuan Fan of the University of Science and Technology of China; Marie-Hélène Moncel of the National Museum of Natural History in Paris; Marco Peresani and Davide Delpiano of the University of Ferrara in Italy; and You-Ping Wang of Peking University in Beijing.

The research was funded by the National Natural Sciences Foundation of China, the Open Research Fund of TPESER, the Australian Research Council, the Research Academy of Songshan Civilization in Zhengzhou and the University of Ferrara.

For more information, contact Marwick at bmarwick@uw.edu.

For Valentine’s Day, 91̽��News asked 12 91̽�� researchers to share their love stories: What made them decide to pursue their career paths? Scroll down or click on the links below to see their responses.

Lakeya Afolalu | Katya Cherukumilli | Stephen Groening | June Lukuyu | Jennifer Nemhauser | Zoe Pleasure | Kira Schabram | Bára Šafářová | Adam Summers | Timeka Tounsel | Kendall Valentine | Navid Zobeiry

, Assistant professor of language, literacy and culture, College of Education

What do you study at the UW?��

My research explores how immigration, race, language, literacy and identity intersect in the lives of Nigerian immigrant and transnational youth. Unlike in many West African countries, race is the most salient identifier in the United States, often overlooking the diverse ethnic, cultural and linguistic identities of youth of African origin. This often affects how immigrant youth make sense of their identities in this country. My research examines how Nigerian youth use multilingualism, literacy and digital literacies to construct and negotiate their identities across home, school and digital environments in the U.S.

What made you fall in love with your research area?

My mother is African American. My father is Nigerian. So, growing up, I often felt like I was split between both cultures. There were also so many societal and familial expectations about what it meant to be “Black,” “African American” and “Nigerian.”

Growing up, my family members and friends in Detroit called me by my African American name, “Lakeya.” But when my sisters and I spent summers and holidays in Queens, New York, with our Nigerian family, the moment I crossed over the threshold of the door I was called by my Nigerian name, “Iyore.”

Honestly, I’d say I set out very early in life to define my life’s path and to be intentional about how I wanted to make myself known to the world — my identity. It was not — and even as an adult Black woman in America, it still is not always — comfortable to defy identity expectations. But what other way is there to live? To be a shell of what others, or society, believe we should be? Is that living? It is not.

As a teenager, I had less confidence in being bold and being my true self. I loved reading novels. I’d go to the bookstore and buy books to read, but I hid this practice from my friends because of some unwritten rule that one can’t be Black, cool and smart. Adolescent peer pressure was a real issue. That’s also how I fell in love with writing. Often feeling misunderstood, I resorted to the pages of my journals where I could be myself and dream of my future self. I continue to keep a journal.

My Aunt Darcelle says I’ve been asking profound questions since I learned to speak. That hasn’t changed. So, it’s no surprise that I’ve committed to a career in research. My research is not just research, though. It’s the story and lives of so many young people who feel wedged between other people’s and society’s ideas of who they should be and what they should become. Sometimes, these expectations can come from those closest to us who have well-meaning intentions — parents, family members, close friends. I understand this feeling well.

There are many times when I’m writing a manuscript or analyzing data, and I draw on memories of my own schooling experiences to interpret interview transcripts from the Nigerian youth in my study. Or I remember similar instances from West African seventh-grade students in Harlem, which guided me to draw on theoretical frames that align best with the Nigerian youth experience.

My research is truly about shifting the narrative about what it means to be Black, Nigerian and African. Why? Well, because Blackness is so rich, diverse and multifaceted. So is Nigerianness and Africanness. As I engage in my research to illustrate the rich diversity of Nigerian youth’s languages, literacies and identities, I also aim to contribute to dismantling rigid identity structures, creating greater freedom for all young people who find themselves in environments that are structured by prescribed identities that conflict with how they desire to be known.

My research is a contribution to freedom — a freedom that transcends into adulthood. My feet may be in the academy, but my heart and hands always have been and always will be in the communities that mirror mine. It’s truly an honor to do this heart work.

I also want to touch on how I decided to pursue this career path. Growing up, I always wanted to play school and take on the role of the teacher. In fact, I cried whenever my sisters and cousins wouldn’t play school with me. For Christmas and my birthday, I would ask my mother to buy me dry-erase boards, markers and other office items so that I could set up my “classroom” in the house.

I fell in love with teaching because my early elementary teachers were some of the first people who made me feel seen. For instance, my first-grade teacher, Mrs. Schave, would let me choose and read books to the whole class on Fridays. My second-grade teacher, Mrs. Korn, at Fitzgerald Elementary on the west side of Detroit, would invite me to the writer’s table in the classroom whenever I finished my work early. At that table, I realized how powerful and freeing the art of writing is.

While I had these great school experiences, they were also starkly different from my cousins’ experiences. They lived and attended public schools in Auburn Hills, in the suburbs outside of Detroit. I often visited them on the weekends and noticed that they read the same books that I read at my elementary school, except that we had the abridged version in basal textbooks while they had the full chapter books. That struck something within me, and I realized very early in life that your ZIP code — where you lived — determined the quality of your education. It felt unfair. I didn’t have the words to describe it then, but I now know that it was an equity issue — not just educationally but also in terms of economic and social mobility.

So, I decided around the age of 7 that I wanted to become a teacher. I made an internal promise to myself, a commitment, that children who grow up in communities like mine — the beautiful west side of Detroit — would have access to a quality education no matter what. Since that commitment, I’ve taught elementary and middle school in Newark, New Jersey, Detroit, and Harlem.

Thinking back to the connection with my research on identity, I had many conversations with my Nigerian father, who wanted me to pursue a career in finance. In Nigerian culture, there’s often the idea that doctor, lawyer and engineer are the only three career choices, but I was less interested in the money and prestige. I was committed to a career in education.

Today, as an assistant professor and the founder of a that supports the identities and well-being of youth of color, I have small moments when I think back to little Lakeya and smile. I’m doing exactly what she set out to do and more. She would be proud.

What advice would you give to your younger self?��

It’s okay to be misunderstood. It’s okay not to fit in. In fact, not fitting in is what makes you beautifully unique. I know that none of your identity and educational experiences may make sense now, but they will later. Trust me, it will make sense — not just for you but for many youths who find themselves making sense of their identities. In fact, you’ll dedicate your career to speaking, writing and doing community-based work about these topics. Finally, I know you’re looking for that example like yourself, with your dreams and who lives between multiple cultural worlds, but in time, you will become the example you’re looking for. Hold on. It’s going to be a beautiful roller coaster of a ride.

For more information, contact Afolalu at lafolalu@uw.edu.

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, Assistant professor, Department of Human Centered Design & Engineering

What do you study at the UW?

My research group, the Safe Water Equity and Longevity Lab, aims to bridge gaps between scientific discovery, technology design and safe water provision. We integrate methods from human-centered design and environmental engineering to investigate barriers that limit safe water access and to develop usable water quality monitoring and treatment technologies. Specifically, we use data science, experiments, hardware prototyping and community-engaged research methods to design collaborative tools that improve safe water management and mitigate exposure to chemical contaminants in water supplies.

What made you fall in love with your research area?

From a young age, I always felt a deep connection to our planet. I loved spending most of my time outdoors exploring the natural world. I was very curious and talkative as a child, wanting to solve riddles, play games and learn about how everything worked. My curiosity led me down a winding path of research adventures that allowed me to study geology and supercontinents, climate change and alpine plant ecology, fuel-efficient cookstoves, wastewater irrigation and, eventually, safe drinking water.

When I reflect on how I ended up choosing to research access to drinking water, I think about the different places I have lived: south India, Florida, California and Washington. Each region has a uniquely different way of life, cultural traditions and natural environments. A common thread in each of the places I have called home was proximity to the coastline and easy access to fresh springs, rivers and lakes. I have always found myself drawn by an invisible force to the nearest body of water.

I am grateful that my career allows me to address environmental health challenges while also considering the human experience, to reflect on and reconcile inequities and injustices, and to collaboratively solve complex puzzles with brilliant students, colleagues and community partners.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

Don’t be scared to do what you love every day, follow your heart and never stop speaking your mind. You’ll eventually find your way and realize it was the journey that mattered in the end.

For more information, contact Cherukumilli at katyach@uw.edu.

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, Associate professor, Department of Cinema & Media Studies

What do you study at the UW?

I am a media historian who specializes in the sociocultural aspects of media technologies. This includes researching and writing about devices themselves, the implications of the introduction and widespread adoption of these devices and how people use them. For example, my first book was . I have also published research on cell phones, , 16 mm training films, and the use of television screens in the family minivan.

What made you fall in love with your research area? ��

I was 7 when I was stuck on a Pan Am 747 for five hours on the tarmac at London Heathrow and boy, was it exciting when they finally played the movie on the big screen at the front of the cabin!

After that, I lived in Poland under a military dictatorship, which profoundly shaped my media experience growing up. For example, we used to watch Hollywood films played on a 16 mm projector in our living room — both the films and projector were provided through the U.S. Armed Forces. The range of films could be odd. I remember watching “Sophie’s Choice,” “Heartbeeps,” “Terms of Endearment,” “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” “Going Ape!,” “Sleeper,” “Fire and Ice,” “The Towering Inferno,” “City on Fire,” “When Time Ran Out,” “Three Days of the Condor,” “Hannah and Her Sisters” and “Krull” — not exactly .

At the same time, we were watching Polish television (mostly the animated shows “Pszczółka Maja” and “Bolek i Lolek”). Occasionally, a Hollywood film would be aired on TV, over-dubbed in Polish in such a way that the English language dialogue was still audible. I have distinct memories of watching “The Poseidon Adventure” and hearing the first few words of a line in English before the Polish translation came in on top of the dialogue. It wasn’t until a decade or so later that I learned this is not the standard technique for making alternate language versions of films.

We sometimes had access to U.S. television shows from other American diplomats who would return from home leave. They would bring videotape recordings, so I got to watch “Hogan’s Heroes,” “M*A*S*H” and “Gilligan’s Island” months after air date, complete with commercials (which I found both profoundly perplexing and compelling — As I type right now, I am singing the ). I even got to see “Roots” and “The Day After” on Betamax (we did not have what was then thought of as the inferior VHS format).

I would say that those media experiences — in-flight film, 16mm home exhibition, watching films on television in multiple languages — sparked my interest in our mediated mass culture. Until relatively recently, film studies was marked by a bias toward theatrical exhibition of feature films (with the occasional nod to experimental films shown in art galleries) and media studies was concerned with the effective transmission of messages to audiences. The forms of media encounter that are unforeseen and often unintended at the moment of production often get treated as accidental and inconsequential and yet, for many people that is the primary mode of encounter. Because of my experience, I know that all media forms, devices and their contents are contingent on a particular and fortuitous set of circumstances. So I find myself curious about those circumstances and their history.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

If I had known I would become an academic, I might have told my 8-year-old self to take better notes and told my undergraduate self to spend more time in faculty office hours asking about academia. Knowing what I know now, I would have told myself 10 years ago to stop worrying what others might think and just write the damned book.

For more information, contact Groening at groening@uw.edu.

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, Assistant professor, Department of Electrical & Computer Engineering

What do you study at the UW?

My research centers on using transdisciplinary approaches to develop solutions for creating sustainable, inclusive and integrated energy solutions for underserved communities. My expertise supports policymakers and practitioners seeking equitable, community-centered energy transitions that combine technical and socioeconomic perspectives.

What made you fall in love with your research area?

I grew up in a small community outside Nairobi, Kenya. From an early age, I saw firsthand the challenges of unreliable power: frequent outages, power surges and a system that did not always meet the needs of the people it served. When the lights went out, my family, like many in the area, was often left scrambling to preserve our food or finish homework assignments in candlelight. It was not just an inconvenience — it was a reminder of how something as essential as electricity could hold communities back. I knew from then that I wanted to do something about it, but at the time, I did not quite know how.

When I was in high school, I applied to colleges in the U.S. and was accepted to Smith College on a full scholarship. There, I pursued engineering science, but what really sparked my love for the field was not just the technical challenges — it was how energy systems intertwined with society. At Smith, I was not just solving equations. I was also exploring how power affects everything from education to health care to human development. My engineering courses were paired with courses in psychology, economics and sociology, and that blend of disciplines opened my eyes to a new way of thinking: Energy wasn’t just a technical problem to solve, it was a societal one.

The more I learned, the more I realized that fixing energy systems in underserved communities couldn’t be as simple as just adding more power or building bigger grids. It had to be about understanding the people who needed that power. I wanted to create systems that responded to real needs, that didn’t just drop in solutions, but considered the community’s culture, environment and existing infrastructure. After graduating, I had a job developing software to estimate the cost of power systems, but I kept thinking about how we could rethink energy to make it more sustainable, more inclusive and more connected to the social fabric of the places it served.

That thinking led me to pursue a master’s in renewable energy systems at Loughborough University in the United Kingdom and then a doctorate at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, where my research focused on finding ways to develop energy systems that were as much about community as they were about technology. I didn’t just want to create another power system that might fail because it didn’t align with how people lived or how societies worked. Instead, I wanted to design systems that were responsive to local contexts and to the needs of communities they intended to serve, systems that people could rely on for the long haul.

In 2023, I joined the 91̽�� as an assistant professor, where I founded the IDEAS (Interdisciplinary Energy Analytics for Society) research group. Our work is all about creating energy systems that work for the people who use them. It’s a mix of developing sustainable technology, social understanding and deep collaboration with communities. We’re working on projects in Africa, Southeast Asia, the Pacific Islands and even here in the U.S., always with the goal of creating solutions that are both sustainable and tailored to the specific needs of each community.

What I love most about my research is that it’s not just about the science — it’s about the people. Every project is a chance to dive into a new community, understand its challenges and design solutions that truly fit. I’m passionate about making sure that when we think about energy, we’re thinking about people, not just power. And now, teaching and mentoring the next generation of engineers at 91̽��gives me a chance to pass on that mindset — to inspire others to think beyond the technical and ask, “How does this system help the people who need it most?”

It’s been a winding journey, from a small town outside Nairobi to researching sustainable and inclusive energy solutions at a major university. But the core of it has always been the same: a desire to make a difference, to solve real-world problems with technology and to ensure that everyone, no matter where they are, has access to the energy they need to thrive.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

I’d tell my younger self not to worry so much about fitting into a mold or following a traditional path. Every experience, even the ones that seem unrelated or uncertain, contributes to your journey. Embrace the uncertainty, because it often leads to the most interesting places.

I’d also remind myself to be patient and kind with the process. Progress isn’t always linear. There were times when I felt overwhelmed or unsure of my next step. It’s okay to feel that way — it’s part of learning and growing. The setbacks, the challenges and even the moments of doubt are just as important as the successes. They shape you and teach you valuable lessons.

Finally, I’d tell myself to take more risks — to seek out the scary opportunities, the ones that seem daunting or unfamiliar. You never know where a seemingly small decision or unexpected twist in the road might take you. Sometimes, the things that seem out of reach are the ones worth pursuing most. So, trust yourself, stay curious and keep pushing forward, even when the path isn’t always clear. The journey will be worth it.

For more information, contact Lukuyu at jlukuyu@uw.edu.

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, Professor, Department of Biology

What do you study at the UW?

We use plant, yeast and human cells to understand and engineer the molecular interactions that allow organisms to process information during development and stress responses.

What made you fall in love with your research area?

When I was a little girl, I attended a Montessori school in Los Angeles. This was the 1970s, and the teachers embraced the philosophy of letting a child’s interest direct their learning. I had one teacher that I really bonded with, named Dr. Pillai. He introduced me to the process of science research, rewarding my seemingly insatiable curiosity with thoughtful responses and sharing just the right book or model or experiment to help me dig deeper into any topic that caught my interest. He made me feel like asking a million questions was a wonderful quality (something not everyone agreed with, then or now!).

The pure joy of learning about the natural world through experimentation struck a deep chord. While the road was quite twisty between those early years and my decision to pursue science as a career, I am sure that I would not be here today without that early encouragement.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

Be nicer to your dad when he is helping you with your math homework!

For more information, contact Nemhauser at jn7@uw.edu.

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, Doctoral student, Department of Health Systems & Population Health, School of Public Health

What do you study at the UW?

My research focuses on understanding how people make decisions about their sexual and reproductive health care while navigating the multi-level influences that shape our current societal structure. In my research, I use mixed methods to analyze more traditional data sources, such as qualitative interviews and surveys, and newer data sources, such as TikTok videos, Reddit posts and electronic health record notes, to understand what type of information people seek out about sexual and reproductive health, their motivations behind decision-making and their care interactions with providers. I seek to examine how people with different lived experiences (for example: chronic disease, young people, veterans) may have different decision-making motivations and informational needs to make autonomous reproductive health decisions.

What made you fall in love with your research area?

I first became passionate about sexual and reproductive health while taking the class Sex, Gender and the Brain as a neuroscience undergraduate at Emory University. My final project focused on how anti-choice groups attempted to limit reproductive autonomy by promoting erroneous interpretations of neuroscience data to argue that oral contraceptives are dangerous. The class demonstrated to me how scientists could meld science with feminist theory and, more specifically, how the intentional distribution of misinformation online provides another tool to limit bodily autonomy.

Earlier in my educational career, teachers often framed my biology, chemistry and physics classes as apolitical or unbiased by societal structures. I now know that is not true. This class was one of the first classes where we were asked to name the specific orientation or lens of a research paper or study and describe who and what was left out.

I quickly dropped my neuroscience focus after this class and instead focused on policy-relevant, public –health-informed research that aims to improve access to and the equity and quality of sexual and reproductive health care and information. While earning a master’s of public health, I started working at the Guttmacher Institute, a leading sexual and reproductive health policy and research organization based in New York City. There, I started working on research projects that directly studied ways to improve access to sexual and reproductive health services.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

I would advise my younger self to think critically about the lessons that are available in all academic classes, including English, dance, and history, and to think about how these lessons can be used to become a better public health researcher and writer.

For more information, contact Pleasure at zoep2@uw.edu.

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, Assistant professor of management, Foster School of Business

What do you study at the UW?

My two primary topics of inquiry are meaningful work and employee sustainability. My research examines how to support employees who want to make a positive difference through their work in ways big and small, ranging from employees who view work as a calling — not just a paycheck but as a source of personal, social or moral significance — to those engaging in everyday acts of helping, kindness and compassion. I study the challenges that impede these activities to determine how employees can conduct their work more sustainably.

What made you fall in love with your research area?

I fell into academia. In 2007, I was working for the largest animal shelter in North America and I enrolled in a part-time master’s program in business because I had aspirations of one day rising into a leadership position in animal welfare.

In 2008, the Great Recession hit and I lost my job, but I also learned that professors in my master’s program did research (who knew!). At the time, research on meaningful work was in its infancy and focused primarily on the positive aspects (for example: showing that employees doing meaningful work have greater engagement and satisfaction). I saw this among my co-workers in the animal shelter, but I also saw so much frustration, burnout and resignation. Every day, employees who wanted to save animals’ lives were in the corner crying because of their inability to do so.

I applied to 10 doctoral programs and got into one, where I was lucky that my supervisors encouraged me to join the burgeoning wave of research looking at meaningful work as a double-edged sword and what to do about it. The rest is history.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

This is less advice for my younger self and more gratitude to all the people who helped me along the way. Early in your career, you do not yet know how anything works: how research works, what journals are appropriate outlets, how to develop the ability to know where to dedicate our efforts: what research projects are not only novel but important. Until then, senior mentors are invaluable guides. What makes for a successful career is all the people who generously offer their time and guidance along the way. I did many, many things wrong in my early career, but one thing I did right was to seek out and show my appreciation for any and all help. I would not be here if it wasn’t for the thousands of hours invested in me by others in the field and I hope I am paying that forward in a small part.

For more information, contact Schabram at schabram@uw.edu.

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, Assistant professor, School of Urban Studies, 91̽��Tacoma

What do you study at the UW?

��My research is primarily on housing segregation, but I have also become an expert on the overlap of and its relationship with the greening of cities in times of climate change and rising inequality.

What made you fall in love with this new research area?

��I happened to fall into this area in the middle of the night a couple months into my architecture doctoral program. It was early spring. I had moved to College Station, Texas, and was living in a relatively old timberstick house. It was about 1 a.m. when I jumped into my bed and then yelped out from a sharp pain in my lower back.

My first thought: a snake bite?! I leapt up, squeezed my back as if I could prevent any poison from getting in, turned on the light and scanned the bed for a snake. Nothing. Instead I saw a bug — a flat dark bug, not even an inch long. I scooped it up in a jar, let go of my “poisoned skin” and sighed in relief.

Then I thought, could this be a risky bug? I had just moved to the U.S. from Europe and I didn’t know the local fauna at all. To resolve this in a rational way, I settled on eliminating worst-case scenarios. I Googled: “most dangerous insects in Texas.” I checked the bug in the jar for unique characteristics and compared it to a ranking of… JESUS! The third bug on the list was exactly the same bug that was staring at me from the jar: A Kissing bug… a bite from which can lead to Chagas disease… Deadly… No cure… Organs disintegrate in several decades.

My heart was pounding. My hand was back on the bite site. I was skimming the internet frantically. It was so late, and I had no one to call at that hour. I thought of calling people in Europe, but what would they know? I forced myself to read slowly and make a plan.

The message became clear: There is no cure for Chagas disease and the only symptom (sometimes) occurs the following morning: the swelling of one eyelid on the side closer to the bite site. Even if I went to the hospital, this seemed to be an under-studied disease and tests were limited. I resolved to just sleep it off and go to the doctor in the morning.

I woke up early. My face was symmetrical. Phew. I took the jar to the clinic right as they opened. Someone in the waiting room told me about getting bit by a brown recluse. “Oh well,” I thought, giving up on life a little.

The doctor took one look at the bug and said “Yes, that is a Kissing bug. There’s no cure. No test. Just move on, sorry!”

Perplexed, but also assured by the lack of urgency, I left the clinic. Over the next few days, my worries slowly faded as there apparently was nothing to do about this. I tossed the bug.

Two weeks later I saw an announcement on the university homepage from , then a doctoral student studying biomedical sciences. She was asking about any Kissing bug sightings and .

I immediately wrote to Rachel and reported what happened. She was super excited and asked me to bring her the bug. I said I threw it out, but had photos and I found a similar one — I had lots of bugs in my old house. We met over coffee. Rachel informed me that the bug was NOT a Kissing bug and that I should not worry. She could test me, but it was not necessary.

She explained the science of how the parasite behind Chagas disease, Trypanosoma cruzi, . It’s quite the process: After the bug bites you, it poops. The parasites are in infected bugs’ poop, which means that the poop has to get smudged into the bite site for you to get infected.

Then Rachel asked about my doctoral research and I told her I was studying housing in the colonias that line the border of Texas and Mexico. Her eyes lit up because she was looking to get samples from there. Thanks to the bug bite and my coffee with Rachel, a whole team formed and we started a pilot project that combined our research interests. This study became my master’s thesis, and six years later in the prestigious Habitat International journal.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

Talk to doctoral students from many more disciplines!

For more information, contact Šafářová at bsafar@uw.edu.

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, Professor, Department of Biology and School of Aquatic and Fishery Sciences

What do you study at the UW?

I am a natural historian who applies physics, math and engineering concepts to living systems to understand how they work. My research is driven by both the evolutionary implications of function and the possibility of bio-inspired design.

What made you fall in love with your research area?

From my earliest childhood I spent three seasons in downtown Manhattan and summer in the north woods of Ontario, Canada. The contrast between the most urban environment and a place without utilities or indoor plumbing was formative. Fishes, whether in tanks, on lines, or through my SCUBA mask, were my constant and most interesting companions. No detail was too obscure, and no species too drab to escape my attention.

I left fish behind when I got to college. Instead, it was a constant joy of mathematics and engineering, with a liberal arts sprinkling of art history, economics and German. After college I tried many things: I started a business, taught in the NYC public school system and attempted a career in photography. But I wasn’t willing to persist when things were hard or no fun. Then I went to Australia to become a SCUBA instructor. There I met my first biologist. I was smitten with the idea of making a living trying to understand animals.

On my return to New York, I immersed myself in biology, particularly the natural history of fishes, reptiles and amphibians. Spending hours in the field closely observing animals and their environment was one avenue of inspiration. The other was investigating animals’ shape, or morphology, with an electron microscope. The link between form and function was how my weeks passed — looking at microstructure, then wading in temporary ponds for larval salamanders. I fell completely in love with both areas and have made my career at that interface.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

Treasure your mentors in the moment. They are gone too soon and you will never feel like you made it clear enough how much they affected you and your career.

For more information, contact Summers at fishguy@uw.edu.��

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, Associate professor, Department of Communication

What do you study at the UW?

I am a critical-cultural studies scholar who focuses on race, gender, and sexuality in the media. Specifically, I study how Black people negotiate mass media as marginalized subjects whose status as citizens is always precarious. I’m especially interested in the stories that circulate about Black women, both external narratives and the stories that Black women craft about themselves.

What made you fall in love with your research area?

I sometimes think of myself as an accidental academic. I pursued a degree in magazine journalism and international relations in college with the intention of becoming a magazine editor. But everything changed the summer I landed an internship at my dream magazine, . At the time, many publications were closing their doors or downsizing their staff in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis. All of a sudden, pursuing a career in magazines began to feel like a much larger risk than I was comfortable with. Aside from the industry woes, I also realized that I had just as much fun studying magazines (and other media) for class projects as I did working for one.

At Essence, the assignments that my editor gave me reflected a particular image of Black womanhood and assumptions about Blackness, femininity and masculinity that were key to the magazine’s brand. When I returned to school for my last year of college, I took a Black feminist theory course where I wrote essays exploring the questions that had popped into my mind during my internship – questions that I couldn’t shake, questions that played in the background of my mind whenever I was walking through the magazine aisle at the grocery store, or watching television or a movie. This taste of how deeply satisfying a life of the mind could be was a turning point. By the end of the feminist theory course I had decided to apply to graduate school.

My first book, “,” was a full-circle moment. In the book I offer a cultural history of Essence magazine and position it as a predecessor to contemporary commercial representations of Black womanhood realized in the 2010s through hashtags like #BlackGirlMagic and advertising campaigns, such as Proctor and Gamble’s “.” It was an amazing feeling to follow my curiosity and return to the questions that first captivated my mind as an intern. During the writing process I realized that the seeds of these questions had started even earlier, when I was a little girl sitting in a Black beauty shop with dozens of issues of Ebony, Jet and Essence magazines. Long before I was old enough to fully comprehend the articles, the images in these magazines captivated me, beaconing me to explore further.

The thing that most fills my heart about the scholarly path that I’ve chosen is being able to document and amplify the brilliance and beauty of Black women. There’s so much that’s problematic in the stories that society tells about Black women, but the brightest moments in my teaching and research are connected to the dope narratives that Black women craft about themselves.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

Lean into the questions that captivate you and the subject areas that awaken your passion and curiosity. This will point you in the direction of your most fulfilling research projects and your very best writing.

For more information, contact Tounsel at timeka@uw.edu.

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, Assistant professor, School of Oceanography

What do you study at the UW?

��I’m a coastal ecogeomorphologist, which means I study how ecology, geology and physics change the landscape on the coast. A lot of my work focuses on how biology (plants, microbes) alters how mud moves around coastal systems and changes what our coastlines look like. I am particularly interested in marshes and mudflats. I go into the field to measure what is really happening on the coast, and then develop numerical computer models to predict how these processes will change in the future.

What made you fall in love with your research area?

When I was 5 years old, my family went on vacation to Cape Cod National Seashore. We attended an educational program at the Salt Pond Visitor Center, and I knew I was in love. The stinky, muddy marsh felt like home to me immediately, and I still remember talking to the volunteer scientist about how marshes work. At that time, however, I had no idea that you could study marshes and mud as your job!

That formative memory never left me, even though, as I continued in school and focused on science, I intended to become a medical doctor. In my world, if you were good at math and science, the logical career path was to become a medical doctor.

I went to college at Boston University, where I planned to major in chemistry. But for every class project, I ended up focusing on oceans and coastlines. I had a wonderful TA who noticed this trend and mentioned to me in passing that my university had a marine science program and that maybe I should consider taking a class in that program to see if I liked it. I enrolled in a class called “Estuaries” and I’ve never looked back. The first week of the class, we took a field trip to collect data in a marsh and I was instantly transported back to my 5-year-old self, loving the marsh. I was the first student who jumped into the mud to collect data, and I didn’t want to leave. Within a few weeks I was working in that professor’s lab, and I really haven’t left the marsh since.

I also started developing so many questions about how things worked — and how everything tied together, from the mud to the birds — that I quickly realized that research and teaching in the field was what I needed to do with my life. My research has expanded a lot since then to encompass many different types of coasts, but my love for the rotten-egg-smelling, squelching mud drives a lot of what I choose to do. Being out in nature and seeing the processes happen in real time inspires me to understand coastal systems and help make a more resilient future for our planet and for people.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

I am incredibly lucky to have a job that I absolutely love, and I would encourage my younger self to pursue what makes me happy. Sometimes my work hardly feels like work because I am so engaged and excited by what I am discovering and the students I get to work with. While every day isn’t always amazing (I have bad work days too!), at the end of the work week I’m always thankful for what a great job I have. I hope that everyone is able to find something they are passionate about in their life.

I would also say: Believe in yourself and don’t compare yourself to others. Just keep doing what you love and what you think is important and helpful to others, and everything will work out okay.

For more information, contact Valentine at kvalent@uw.edu.

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, Associate professor, Department of Materials Science & Engineering

What do you study at the UW?

My research team integrates materials science, data science and advanced manufacturing with primary applications in aerospace. We focus on three main areas:

1. Smart material testing methods, using physics-informed machine learning to control the testing parameters.
2. Smart manufacturing that leverages automation, sensing and machine learning. The goal is to develop AI for autonomous and self-aware manufacturing systems.
3. Smart engineering approaches to accelerate aerospace design and certification. We use a combination of machine learning, automated testing and physics-based numerical simulations techniques.

What made you fall in love with your research area?

According to my parents, my first word was “hot.” Looking back, it seems like a fitting start to a life deeply intertwined with the principles of heat transfer. My fascination with heat and materials began early and found a natural outlet in my love for cooking. I enjoy experimenting with different cooking techniques, all of which benefit immensely from an understanding of heat transfer. This passion even led me to publish a cookbook a few years ago.

After earning my doctoral degree, I began working at a research center in Canada, where I collaborated with various companies to solve their manufacturing challenges. Over time, I worked with a wide range of materials — concrete, wood, polymers, metals and composites. As I delved deeper into manufacturing, I started noticing fascinating parallels between it and cooking. Both require precise control of variables like temperature and pressure to transform materials into something new.

For instance, making aerospace composite parts in an autoclave is essentially pressure-cooking a layered material. Similarly, tempering chocolate to achieve its perfect microstructure, texture and snap is strikingly similar to controlling the crystallinity of thermoplastics to optimize their performance. Recognizing these connections allowed me to combine my personal passion for cooking with my professional love for materials science and engineering.

This love for exploring the science behind materials was paired with my lifelong interest in mathematics, which naturally led me to integrate machine learning and AI into my research. These tools provided a way to unlock deeper insights and bring innovation into material design and manufacturing. For example, my very first project as a professor at the 91̽�� was a collaboration with Boeing, where we developed AI for manufacturing aerospace composites. It was akin to creating a smart oven that can monitor the temperature of various parts and autonomously adjust the controls — a direct parallel to advanced cooking techniques.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

As you explore different options for your career, focus more on what you truly love to do. Don’t be afraid to combine your personal passions with your professional goals — start doing this earlier. The joy and fulfillment you’ll find in aligning your personal interests with your career will open doors to creative opportunities and unique solutions you might not have imagined. Trust the process and follow what excites you most.

For more information, contact Zobeiry at navidz@uw.edu.

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Many Tribes in Washington and Oregon call coastal areas home, meaning they are especially affected by climate change. They also face changes in wildfire risk and in changes to fisheries that are economically and culturally important.

A led by the 91̽��’s Climate Impacts Group, the Affiliated Tribes of Northwest Indians, and Washington Sea Grant compiles the experiences of Washington and Oregon coastal Tribes as they prepare for climate change. The report aims to build on successes and identify common barriers to progress.

“Every year the climate crisis continues to elevate and accelerate. The lack of a coordinated federal response is what causes Northwest coastal Tribes — and other coastal communities — to suffer from hazards which are imminently impacting life, property, Tribal rights and resources,” said project co-lead of the . “With direct quotes from Tribal citizens and staff with lived personal and professional experiences, [this report] describes the immediate urgency of the federal government to take coordinated climate action.”

Results will be shared with Northwest coastal Tribes and other governmental and nongovernmental entities.

“The report is based on listening sessions with Northwest coastal Tribes, and summarizes the barriers and unmet needs they face in their efforts to prepare for climate change,” said project co-lead Meade Krosby, who is director of the UW-based and senior scientist at the 91̽��. This report was funded by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration through the .

The project team held six Tribal listening sessions, each 2.5 hours long, in varying formats. Three listening sessions took place during Affiliated Tribes of Northwest Indians conferences already attended by many Northwest coastal Tribal members.��Two sessions were held virtually, and one was hosted by an individual Tribal Nation. Participants in each session met in small groups and shared information with each other and with a moderator.

All participants had the choice of making their comments public or not, and of contributing anonymously or under their name. Researchers later coded all the contributions and summarized the overall findings. Contributions represented 13 Tribal nations, roughly half of the federally recognized Tribes within the study’s coastal regions. The overall findings include:

• Despite being national leaders in climate adaptation, Northwest coastal Tribes face significant needs in realizing their adaptation goals
• Key barriers and unmet needs centered in five areas: funding, staffing, technical expertise, partnerships and communications
• Successful efforts noted strengths in many of these same areas, such as securing external funding, the dedication of Tribal staff, and building robust partnerships

Participants described specific situations and frustrations, including the piecemeal nature of federal funding; challenges recruiting and retaining key staff; potential partners’ lack of familiarity with Tribal processes and priorities; and establishing stable support for long-term initiatives.

Participants’ quotes included:

“If you just looked at the total amount of Tribal land, you’d say: ‘Well, there’s lots of places that the Tribe can move,’ but if you take away all the places that are sacred or culturally significant, or habitat for important species, or landslide hazard, or some other hazard, the options are diminished. We must also be careful not to move away from one hazard into another. How bad would it be if we move away from the shoreline, and we put ourselves in harm’s way for fire?”

– Robert Knapp, environmental planning manager and climate resilience lead, Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe

“Some of the challenges that we face on the coast are due to the magnitude of some of the projects that we need to undertake. For example, we are in the midst of relocating our two main Quinault villages on the Washington coast. That’s a multimillion-dollar, multi-agency effort … It’s very difficult to integrate our plans and priorities for village relocation with those of the agencies and constrains on available funding.”

– Gary Morishima, natural resources technical advisor, Quinault Indian Nation

“To build capacity we need funding sources that are long-term, that we can say to Tribal leadership: ‘We know we’re going to have funding for five or six years, so we want to hire this person who’s an engineer, who’s a project manager, who can take on these projects, talk to other [external] engineers, and who can make these projects happen.’”

– Rochelle Blankenship, Tribal council member and executive director, Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe

The report concludes: “While these findings do not fully represent the depth and breadth of [the challenges faced by Northwest coastal Tribes] and what is required to address them, we hope they will help build awareness among funders, policymakers, climate service providers and others to mobilize necessary action in support of the climate adaptation efforts of Northwest coastal Tribes.”

In related upcoming work, the Northwest Climate Resilience Collaborative’s Tribal Coastal Resilience effort at the 91̽��was as part of a to support coastal readiness in Washington state.

The grant will support hiring a full-time climate adaptation specialist to provide technical assistance to Northwest coastal Tribes, Krosby said. That person will also coordinate a small grants program that will distribute most of the funds to Tribes to support their adaptation efforts. The grants program was designed to respond to Tribal priorities without imposing barriers that often make funds difficult to apply for and administer. Awards will be made starting in 2025.

“We’re really excited that this is happening at the same time our report is coming out,” Krosby said. “So it’s not just describing the problem. It’s also: Here, let’s bring some resources to bear based on what we learned.”

Other co-authors on the report are Ryan Hasert at the 91̽��Climate Impacts Group; Kylie Avery at the Affiliated Tribes of Northwest Indians; and Chandler Countryman and Melissa Poe at UW’s Washington Sea Grant. The project’s Tribal advisory group and report reviewers include representatives from the Makah, Tulalip, Coquille, Squaxin Island, Swinomish and Quinault Tribes and the Northwest Indian Fisheries Commission.

For more information, contact Marchand at amarchand@atnitribes.org, and Krosby at mkrosby@uw.edu or 206-579-8023.��

UPDATE (Aug. 2, 2024): A previous version of this story misstated Paul Kinahan’s name.

Fifteen faculty members at the 91̽�� have been elected to the Washington State Academy of Sciences. They are among 36 scientists and educators from across the state . Selection recognizes the new members’ “outstanding record of scientific and technical achievement, and their willingness to work on behalf of the academy to bring the best available science to bear on issues within the state of Washington.”

Twelve 91̽��faculty members were selected by current WSAS members. They are:

• , associate professor of epidemiology, of health systems and population health, and of child, family and population health nursing, who “possesses the rare combination of scientific rigor and courageous commitment to local community health. Identifying original ways to examine questions, and seeking out appropriate scientific methods to study those questions, allow her to translate research to collaborative community interventions with a direct impact on the health of communities.”
• , the Shauna C. Larson endowed chair in learning sciences, for “his work in the cultural basis of scientific research and learning, bringing rigor and light to multiculturalism in science and STEM education through STEM Teaching Tools and other programs.”
• , professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences, “for her sustained commitment to community-engaged, science-driven practice and policy change related to the prevention of suicide and the promotion of mental health, with a focus on providing effective, sustainable and culturally appropriate care to people with serious mental illness.”
• , the David and Nancy Auth endowed professor in bioengineering, who has “charted new paths for 30-plus years. Her quest to deeply understand protein folding/unfolding and the link to amyloid diseases has propelled her to pioneer unique computational and experimental methods leading to the discovery and characterization of a new protein structure linked to toxicity early in amyloidogenesis.”
• , professor of environmental and occupational health sciences, of global health, and of emergency medicine, who is “a global and national leader at the intersection of climate change and health whose work has advanced our understanding of climate change health effects and has informed the design of preparedness and disaster response planning in Washington state, nationally and globally.”
• , professor of bioengineering and of radiology, who is “recognized for his contributions to the science and engineering of medical imaging systems and for leadership in national programs and professional and scientific societies advancing the capabilities of medical imaging.”
• , the Donald W. and Ruth Mary Close professor of electrical and computer engineering and faculty member in the 91̽��Clean Energy Institute, who is “recognized for his distinguished research contributions to the design and operation of economical, reliable and environmentally sustainable power systems, and the development of influential educational materials used to train the next generation of power engineers.”
• , senior vice president and director of the Vaccine and Infectious Disease Division at the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center, the Joel D. Meyers endowed chair of clinical research and of vaccine and infectious disease at Fred Hutch, and 91̽��professor of medicine, who is “is recognized for her seminal contributions to developing validated laboratory methods for interrogating cellular and humoral immune responses to HIV, TB and COVID-19 vaccines, which has led to the analysis of more than 100 vaccine and monoclonal antibody trials for nearly three decades, including evidence of T-cell immune responses as a correlate of vaccine protection.”
• , professor of political science and the Walker family professor for the arts and sciences, who is a specialist “in environmental politics, international political economy, and the politics of nonprofit organizations. He is widely recognized as a leader in the field of environmental politics, best known for his path-breaking research on the role firms and nongovernmental organizations can play in promoting more stringent regulatory standards.”
• , the Ballmer endowed dean of social work, for investigations of “how inequality, in its many forms, affects health, illness and quality of life. He has developed unique conceptual frameworks to investigate how race, ethnicity and immigration are associated with health and social outcomes.”
• , professor of chemistry, who is elected “for distinguished scientific and community contributions to advancing the field of electron paramagnetic resonance spectroscopy, which have transformed how researchers worldwide analyze data.”
• , professor of bioengineering and of ophthalmology, whose “pioneering work in biomedical optics, including the invention of optical microangiography and development of novel imaging technologies, has transformed clinical practice, significantly improving patient outcomes. Through his numerous publications, patents and clinical translations, his research has helped shape the field of biomedical optics.”

Three new 91̽��members of the academy were selected by virtue of their previous election to one of the National Academies. They are:

• , professor of atmospheric and climate science, who had been elected to the National Academy of Sciences “for contributions to research and expertise in atmospheric radiation and cloud processes, remote sensing, cloud/aerosol/radiation/climate interactions, stratospheric circulation and stratosphere-troposphere exchanges and coupling, and climate change.”
• , the Bartley Dobb professor for the study and prevention of violence in the Department of Epidemiology and a 91̽��professor of pediatrics, who had been elected to the National Academy of Medicine “for being a national public health leader whose innovative and multidisciplinary research to integrate data across the health care system and criminal legal system has deepened our understanding of the risk and consequences of firearm-related harm and informed policies and programs to reduce its burden, especially among underserved communities and populations.”
• , division chief of general pediatrics at Seattle Children’s Hospital and a 91̽��professor of pediatrics, who had been elected to the National Academy of Medicine “for her leadership in advancing child health equity through scholarship in community-partnered design of innovative care models in pediatric primary care. Her work has transformed our understanding of how to deliver child preventive health care during the critical early childhood period to achieve equitable health outcomes and reduce disparities.”

In addition, Dr. , president and director of the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center and of the Cancer Consortium — a partnership between the UW, Seattle Children’s Hospital and Fred Hutch — was elected to the academy for being “part of a research effort that found mutations in the cell-surface protein epidermal growth factor receptor (EGFR), which plays an important role in helping lung cancer cells survive. Today, drugs that target EGFR can dramatically change outcomes for lung cancer patients by slowing the progression of the cancer.”

the Boeing-Egtvedt endowed professor and chair in aeronautics and astronautics, will join the board effective Sept. 30. Morgansen was elected to WSAS in 2021 “for significant advances in nonlinear methods for integrated sensing and control in engineered, bioinspired and biological flight systems,” and “for leadership in cross-disciplinary aerospace workforce development.” She is currently director of the Washington NASA Space Grant Consortium, co-director of the 91̽��Space Policy and Research Center and chair of the AIAA Aerospace Department Chairs Association. She is also a member of the WSAS education committee.

“I am excited to serve on the WSAS board and work with WSAS members to leverage and grow WSAS’s impact by identifying new opportunities for WSAS to collaborate and partner with the state in addressing the state’s needs,” said Morgansen.

The new members to the Washington State Academy of Sciences will be formally inducted in September.

New research from the 91̽�� shows that condom use has been trending downward among younger gay and bisexual men over the last decade, even when they aren’t taking , or PrEP.

The study, , measures changes in sex without condoms among HIV-negative gay and bisexual men who are not taking PrEP. Using data from the 2014-19 cycles of the American Men’s Internet Survey — a web-based survey of cisgender men ages 15 and older who have sex with men (MSM) — researchers found that roughly half of HIV-negative men reported using condoms at least sometimes in the last year. That was higher than the 15% of respondents who reported using PrEP.

But HIV-negative MSM who are not using PrEP seem to be not using condoms increasingly often. The study found that the proportion of these men who had condomless sex increased 2.2% in the average year. Rates of people who weren’t using condoms was higher among younger and Latinos, 7.2% per year for young MSM ages 15 to 24, and 18.7% among young Latino gay and bisexual men.

Properly used condoms can prevent the spread of disease, including HIV; taking PrEP also reduces the likelihood of HIV transmission. The increase in condomless sex for men not on PrEP suggests potential new HIV transmission pathways, researchers said, and the concentration among young Latino men could expand existing health disparities.

91̽��News spoke with , lead author and 91̽��professor of anthropology, to discuss the study, health equity and the importance of continued education about the benefits of using condoms during sex.

What are the barriers to PrEP uptake? Why is it important to not only remove those barriers but to also promote condom usage?

Steven Goodreau: Different things work for people in different circumstances and times of their lives. PrEP has many benefits. It’s something that doesn’t have to happen in the moment, something an individual can decide on instead of having to negotiate with a partner. Some people really don’t like condoms and aren’t going to use them, so PrEP provides another option for them. But like most pharmaceutical interventions, it means people need to know about it and be continuously tied to the healthcare system. There are all sorts of things happening in people’s lives — from unstable housing to dealing with mental health and substance use — that make taking a pill every day not the easiest thing to do. So, PrEP has positives but also challenges. The same with condoms. They’re far cheaper and much easier to access. For some people the lack of daily regimen is a plus. They prevent a much wider range of sexually transmitted infections, not just HIV. But they also take their own form of planning and negotiation. In the end, I see both as key to lowering HIV transmission rates.

Can you talk about the connection between condom promotion and health equity?

SG: The sense I have as a gay man working in public health research is that there’s a prevailing idea that everybody already knows about condoms and understands them, so there’s not much need to do any kind of further promotion anymore. There’s also this idea that they’re so readily available to everybody, that there isn’t much of an equity issue involved. In contrast, PrEP involves interacting with the healthcare system, with associated costs and time and ability to navigate and feel comfortable doing so. All those things are unequal in our society, so are a clear area for concerns about equity.

Our results show that a growing set of young gay and bisexual men, and especially young Latino gay and bisexual men, seem to be missing out on both interventions. And that pattern raises questions of equity. Our study can’t say exactly why, but the pattern is clear.�� We must remember that every generation is starting anew with their knowledge about sexual health. If we have a generation that is coming of age when conversations about condoms that were common in the past haven’t been as present, then they aren’t starting with that broad familiarity. And if LGBTQ+ inclusive sex-ed, which covers HIV prevention for gay and bisexual men, isn’t evenly distributed in the population, then we indeed have equity concerns.

What kind of conversation do you hope this research sparks?

SG: Before PrEP came out, HIV prevention for gay and bisexual men had condoms as a central pillar — perhaps the central pillar — for about three decades. Of course, we were all tired of talking about them. So, I get why, when PrEP came out, it was seen as a miracle and the pendulum swung in that direction. But it’s a decade into PrEP delivery and I think it’s time to look at that and say, ‘Is it time for the pendulum to swing back a bit?’ I’d like people to have open, honest, sincere conversations about how much condom promotion we’ve been doing. What messages have we been putting out? What haven’t we been doing, and why? Is it because there aren’t folks who would benefit from those conversations, or are we just tired of having them? I hope for more conversations among folks at every level: federal, state and local health programs, community organizations and within communities themselves.

What strategies could potentially improve condom promotion?

SG: Some folks in public health think that gay and bisexual men just don’t want to hear about condoms anymore. That’s certainly true for some, but I don’t think it’s as broadly true as we assume. The first step is just a shift in that thinking. Beyond that, LGBTQ+ inclusive sex education is extremely important. Only about half of U.S. high schools have it, and that’s a key first place for young, gay and bisexual men to learn about the different prevention methods and what would work for them given where they are in life. This is a time when the barriers to PrEP are especially high for many people, so making sure that condoms are seen as a valuable and viable option is especially important.

Some dating apps that men use to find partners put the options for PrEP use or viral suppression upfront on the profile, and then the field indicating whether you want to use condoms either doesn’t exist or it isn’t nearly as prominent. That seems like a huge missed opportunity, both to actually share information condom use and to send the message that condoms are on par with these other sexual health tools. It also used to be easier to find condoms in every bar and club catering to gay men. They’re still there some of the time, but not as consistently, and there’s rarely any material explaining and promoting them.

In the end, it’s key to remember that things like condom use are highly subject to social norms — many people use what they see and hear from their peers and beyond as a guide for their own decisions. Even just a little bit more attention to the topic may help to get many of those conversations started again.

Co-authors of the paper were , a 91̽��doctoral student of epidemiology; , 91̽��senior research scientist and engineer in the Center for Studies in Demography and Ecology; Austin Williams, Li Yan Wang and Kevin Delany of the Centers of Disease Control and Prevention (CDC); , professor at Emory University; and , 91̽��senior research scientist in the Department of Global Health. The study was funded by the CDC and the National Institute of Health.

For more information, contact Goodreau at goodreau@uw.edu.

The state of Washington’s program — in which young adults ages 18-21 can continue to receive some support — could help even more people by expanding participation, providing greater flexibility in eligibility criteria, and extending benefits, according to a recent report from the 91̽��.

Commissioned by the state Department of Children, Youth and Families, the was completed by , which researches and advocates for policy and practice reforms in the child welfare system. The study was led by faculty in the 91̽��School of Social Work and conducted with guidance from an advisory group of young people with lived expertise in Extended Foster Care. Along with interviews and data collected by the state, the 91̽��team reviewed the literature on foster care programs nationwide and on the challenges this population of young adults faces.

The report has been submitted to Gov. Jay Inslee’s office for the 2024 legislative session, where that would implement recommendations from the report.

“Extended Foster Care can be very helpful, and the state should try to enroll everyone who is 18 and exiting foster care,” said , associate professor of social work at the 91̽��and executive director of Partners for Our Children, “Not everyone is aware of it and not everyone who is eligible for it is using it. There are issues with how it’s being implemented, but overall, it’s a program that works, and it’s needed now more than ever.”

The state Legislature in 2022 approved the systems assessment of services and benefits for young adults in Extended Foster Care. Legislators were interested in how to address any service gaps to better prepare participants for the transition to adulthood.

Washington state established its Extended Foster Care program in 2012 to provide additional services to young people who would typically “age out” of foster care but need some support to successfully transition to adult life. Among the services and benefits offered are placement supports and stipends for Supervised Independent Living (SIL) settings, health insurance and continued case management. With the help of federal funding, nearly every state offers a version of the program; as of June 2022, 858 young adults were enrolled in Washington.

To qualify for Washington’s Extended Foster Care, a person must, as of age 18, request continued placement in foster care or a Supervised Independent Living site. They must be enrolled in an educational, vocational or employment program, be working half or full time, or unable to engage in any of these activities due to a documented medical condition.

These can be significant obstacles for young people who have spent time in foster care, the report notes. , as researchers term it, is often described as a time of identify formation, exploration, and being in-between. It is ��a critical developmental period in which inequalities across education, income and social support accumulate as advantages or disadvantages with lifelong consequences. But it’s also a time of continued brain growth: Impulse control, reasoning and organizational skills can develop well into a person’s 20s.

“Emerging adulthood is such a critical time in someone’s life, and often the first time people are paying bills, living on their own, and trying to find their place in the world. Without support from our social network and resources from local, state and federal institutions, none of us are able to build the relationships and skills necessary to transition from dependent adolescents into interdependent and self-sufficient members of society,” said , an assistant professor of social work at the 91̽��and a co-author of the report.

Many have suffered trauma, abuse and discrimination. Some have been incarcerated. According to in the report, roughly one-third of young adults enrolled in or eligible for foster care are parents. , co-designed with young people with lived experience in Extended Foster Care, of 63 current or past participants in the program, nearly half were experiencing homelessness or housing insecurity.

The 91̽��report also identified specific subgroups of participants who may be especially marginalized, and whose needs can go unmet. In addition to those who are pregnant or parenting, these groups include BIPOC young people, who are overrepresented in the foster care system; LGBTQ+ young people; and individuals with disabilities.

That’s why expanded services are needed, the report finds. According to a longitudinal study based on California’s extended foster care system, called California Youth Transitions, each additional year of services increased the probabilities young people would complete high school and enroll in college. Each extra year also decreased the odds they’d be arrested or experience homelessness.

Based on such research and on interviews with community partners and social workers around Washington, the assessment team outlined key recommendations for the program:

• Extend participation to all young adults in foster care
• Expand eligibility criteria
• Focus preventive supports on groups such as young parents
• Allocate more funding and resources to long-term housing supports
• Add more peer support networks and services
• Prepare adolescents for Extended Foster Care before age 18

Increase DCYF staff throughout the state, potentially with units devoted only to Extended Foster Care, and add trainings in developmentally tailored and culturally responsive practice

“This report demonstrates that youth who enroll in Extended Foster Care in Washington have better outcomes than those who do not. But we still have work to do,” Ross Hunter, secretary of the Department of Children, Youth and Families, wrote in a statement accompanying the report. “Beyond the recommendations in the systems assessment, we need to leverage existing resources to help youth access mental and behavioral health services, prevention services, and early childhood supports when they are pregnant or parenting. We must develop strategies that support them to complete high school, get postsecondary degrees and get on a path to a career.”

For more information, contact Tajima at etajima@uw.edu.

“Student players — in their training, in their practices and on the field — are developing complex and valuable skill sets,” said , a 91̽�� teaching professor of anthropology and curator of Oceanic and Asian culture at the Burke Museum of Natural History and Culture. “They’re developing and analyzing plays, observing human behavior, anticipating their opponents, and adapting a complex strategy based on real-time information that they’re synthesizing from their surroundings. That hasn’t been widely acknowledged, and does a disservice to players, especially in the academic opportunities they pursue and their future careers.”

Barker and three current members of the 91̽��football team — , and — are studying how the skills they develop to maximize their chances of victory on the field have applications outside the stadium. Their work, which is ongoing, is showing that the research methods and analytical abilities of student-athletes are applicable in academic and research settings, as well as jobs in a variety of fields.

“We’re focused on bridging the gap between school and football, student-athletes and students, to just show there’s hard work in both the classroom and on the field,” said Esteen, a sophomore safety, who noted studying opponents, their tendencies, and analyzing angles and distances on the field as some examples of football-related skills that can translate to academic work. “Many students wouldn’t know that there are probably more than 100 similarities between school and football.”

This project began in the classroom. Football players taking an introductory-level course called “Anthropology and Sports” started to recognize that the types of skills they developed as student-athletes had parallels to skills that their fellow undergraduates learned and practiced in internships, independent research projects and other research and learning settings that help students prepare for graduate school and the job market.

“In our class with athletes and non-athletes, we would have a member of the football team describe to us some of the studying and analyses they do of past games, for example, and as they walked us through the step-by-step process, fellow students would point out that they’re essentially performing advanced trigonometry, human behavioral analysis, and so on,” said Barker.

Players at the college level often spend thousands of hours immersed in their sport. It became clear during the course that those research methods aren’t widely acknowledged in academic settings, with real-world consequences for players.

“These are skills that other students would put on their resumes for applications for internships, graduate school and jobs,” said Barker. “Once we realized that they have these research��skills they are not accounting for in their applications to graduate school or for professional jobs, then we focused on the need to articulate the research skills that they acquire.”

Since then, Barker, Ale, Esteen and Tuitele have explored the connections between research skills acquired��in football and so-called “traditional” academic skills. The students used interviews, focus groups and other analysis methods to collect data that would help them better articulate the research knowledge and skills that emerge from deep engagement with football — as well as how those skills are perceived and interpreted by players and non-players. So far, they’ve identified overlaps between research skills acquired��in football or the classroom for fields ranging from psychology and data science to applied mathematics and game theory.

“One part of the research was actually looking at the Boeing Technical Apprenticeship Program,” said Tuitele, a junior defensive lineman. “There are traits that they require, like teamwork, determination, responsibility, accountability. There’s a list of traits that they’re looking for in their program. And I was, like, ‘Oh, this is perfect.’ We were listing each one of them and I was thinking we already do all of these things in football that we can apply to other careers.”

Part of the group’s goal is to help researchers and educators in other academic fields recognize the unique skill sets and knowledge of student-athletes in their lecture halls and research laboratories.

“That’s kind of the point, just to educate and convey to people who may not see football and school as equal,” said Tuitele. “A lot of people would separate that and separate the ‘student’ and ‘athlete.’ And we’re really just trying to bridge that hyphen in between ‘student-athlete.’ Changing that hyphen to an equal sign is what we did in our research project — ‘student-athlete’ is going to be ‘student-equals-athlete,’ because the knowledge that we use in academics is the same knowledge that we use in football, and vice versa.”

The group also wants to help college football players become advocates for their skill sets as they pursue academic opportunities in college, as well as apply for jobs and graduate-level programs. College players pursue a variety of careers, but often without leveraging the knowledge base and intellectual abilities they’ve fostered through practice, study and performance on the field.

“I know, personally, a lot of football players who don’t feel like they can apply themselves into the real world after football,” said Tuitele. “They feel like they lose their identity after football, you know? Sometimes they feel like football is all that they know and football is who they are. And we just tried to really show that, for football players who feel that way, you can apply yourself to real world. Things that you learned in football, you can also apply to any career, any job that you want in the future.”