Health Science Saves Lives

In 10 years of teaching a scientific decisionmaking course to seventh grade students, I have experienced some of the challenges and rewards that Nancy P. Moreno, Alana D. Newell, Matthew L. Blank, and Paul E. Klotman describe in “When Sixth Graders Study Neuroscience” (Issues, Spring 2026). Notably, I have found that allowing students to break down real-world problems using the scientific method can go far in preparing them to approach challenges in their personal lives in similar ways.

The course covers a wide variety of topics, including the cardiovascular and musculoskeletal systems, the integumentary system comprising the body’s outer covering that acts as the primary barrier between internal organs and the external environment, the causes and preventions of numerous diseases, and the interactions of chemicals and the environment. Students thus have a unique opportunity to learn about a range of health issues they may encounter at some point in their lives.

For example, in a laboratory that covers coronary artery disease, students investigate medical scenarios that are unfortunately common. They learn the signs and symptoms of a heart attack, knowledge that potentially could enable them to help save someone’s life, or even their own. This scenario became frighteningly real one morning last year when a coworker began to show all the classic signs of a heart attack, such as shortness of breath, pain in the lower jaw and back, and profuse sweating. Since I had recently covered coronary artery disease in my classes, I and my students recognized the signs and we were able to call 911 and help him receive lifesaving treatment. Thankfully, he made a full and complete recovery.

When students can see that what they are learning in class has real, tangible meaning, the lessons resonate at a different level. Investing future generations with strong health literacy skills will benefit not only themselves, but their communities as well.

Jonathan Rasti

Nancy P. Moreno, Alana D. Newell, Matthew L. Blank, and Paul E. Klotman highlight Baylor College of Medicine’s unique partnership that embeds one of its faculty members at the BCM Academy at James D. Ryan Middle School in Houston. That faculty member is me, a PhD scientist who transitioned into this position from leading a primate conservation and immunogenetics laboratory.

I felt the newness of the environment and my lack of experience as I stepped into the then 87-year-old building, hallways lined with lockers and rooms filled with children. What I did have was a scientist’s way of thinking: making observations, being curious, testing inferences/hypotheses, defining problems, and looking creatively for solutions, along with a collaborative and mentoring mindset with a focus on outcome.

More than a decade later, I remain on the school’s faculty. The science skill set and core question I began with—What do students need to fundamentally influence how they see themselves and their future?—have resulted in a scholarly culture of growth that addresses learning gaps through unique initiatives. Our initiatives include the integration of healthy habits under a One Health framework, an innovative volunteer math-tutoring program, an empathy program where medical students are teachers, and a novel approach for integrating scientific thinking and biomedicine across science, mathematics, English, and other “social” classes to help students connect biomedical health to everyday lessons and life.

Also of key importance are the biomedical courses we designed: neuroscience, scientific decisionmaking, and foundations of biotechnology and bioengineering, plus a strong and competitive science investigation program. Over time, teachers of these courses and programs have shared their experience of working with a PhD scientist.

Aisha DesLandes, who teaches neuroscience, recounts that having “a PhD scientist on campus does more than support the scientific inquiry context of student lessons and curriculum building. It extends the institutional model of research itself into the classroom, the way research institutions actually practice it, as collaborative work among multiple minds.”

Jonathon Rasti, who teaches scientific decisionmaking, shares that having a PhD scientist on campus is “a valuable asset that was crucial to the success of my students and allowed us to create some amazing labs.” He cites, for example, the Calcium Tracker Lab, where students analyze levels of calcium in their diet for a week, learning its benefits for musculoskeletal health.

Bioscience teacher Jude Herbolario notes that it takes a scientist to provide the kind of rigor and engagement needed “for three simple reasons: expertise, perspective, and application.” Scientists know the fundamental principles, which helps science teachers offer students a more rigorous explanation of these concepts. Scientists, he adds, also can explain real-world applications in ways that students can appreciate (or even be surprised by), such as how discussions of biomimicry generate student interest when they realize how “everyday products like Velcro came from nature and its designs.”

As our experience makes clear, a PhD scientist brings content expertise and a way of thinking that helps students, teachers, and school systems approach learning through collaboration, curiosity, creativity, and evidenced-based decisions. This has helped earn the school national recognition. And it’s such success that leads me to encourage universities, scientists, and communities to build similar integrated partnerships that embed scientific expertise into schools.

Beatriz Perez-Sweeney

Nancy P. Moreno, Alana D. Newell, Matthew L. Blank, and Paul E. Klotman make a persuasive case for what many communities have yet to fully embrace: Health science education must begin far earlier, and with far greater intentionality, if we hope to build a workforce capable of meeting the nation’s health care needs. The Baylor College of Medicine (BCM) model the authors describe demonstrates that when students engage with biomedical concepts in middle school and interact regularly with health professionals, they begin to see themselves as future contributors to the health care workforce.

This is foundational to long-term workforce development. Workforce data collected by our association, the AAMC, reinforce the urgency of upstream investment. Yet most students in the United States encounter health and biomedical sciences only in isolated moments, often shaped by local capacity rather than national need. This uneven exposure narrows the pathways long before students reach college.

The article highlights a critical insight: Identity formation in late elementary and middle school is a decisive inflection point. Students need structured opportunities to “try on” scientific and medical identities through hands‑on learning, role‑model engagement, and authentic problem‑solving. BCM’s approach shows that these experiences can be embedded into the daily life of a school, not treated as optional or peripheral enrichment.

Equally important is the authors’ emphasis on cross‑sector collaboration. BCM’s success is not the product of a single institution but of a coordinated ecosystem involving schools, medical centers, community organizations, and families. Communities that build these kinds of partnerships create more coherent, navigable pathways for young people and expand access to meaningful exposure and preparation. Without intentional alignment, even the strongest local programs will struggle to scale or sustain impact.

The BCM model offers a blueprint for what is possible when communities commit to early, intentional, and collaborative investment in health science education. The AAMC is working to help strengthen medical pathway ecosystems across the country by supporting efforts that expand early exposure, increase access to role models, and connect students with authentic learning experiences. Our goal is to ensure that students everywhere, not just in select districts, are exposed, inspired, and prepared to pursue careers that strengthen the nation’s health.

Geoffrey H. Young

NaShieka Knight

Relevance matters to science learners. At the Baylor College of Medicine (BCM) Academy in Houston, middle schoolers are immersed in science, with health and biomedical sciences threaded through the curriculum and co-curriculum, including social studies and English. What a great way to motivate learning and provide insights into career paths. As a child, I was fascinated by J. D. Ratcliff’s Reader’s Digest anthropomorphic series, which included “I Am Joe’s Heart.” How far we have come with integrated curriculum and co-curricular experiences.

While I applaud the authors’ aims and efforts, I was surprised by their expectation that the Next Generation Science Standards should include specific topics rather than broader concepts. In this light, I regularly propose drawing from the Framework for K–12 Science Education, released by the National Research Council of the National Academy Sciences in 2011. It provides a clear explanation and framing that the National Governor’s Association then developed into the specific standards.

The beauty of the framework is that it is conceptually grounded, allowing teachers in different regions and schools with different foci to illustrate core disciplinary concepts, science and engineering practices, and crosscutting concepts using relevant exemplars. The concepts are high-level and prepare individuals with the foundations needed for both professional and civic contributions. I read the authors’ article as an inspiring example of how the flexibility of the standards allows teachers to align student interests and regional needs with specific standards.

The BCM Academy illustrates the importance of education that aligns with regional expertise and needs. High-quality science education and workforce development are not oppositional. Rather, linking a strong understanding of the core science to the exploration of exciting career pathways engages more learners and addresses pressing community needs. Strong partnerships among formal and informal education and business strengthen learning opportunities.

While the BCM Academy is regional, it is a model for others, especially given the pressing needs for professionals in health and biomedical sciences. Additionally, it serves as a blueprint for how a community can bring collective resources and expertise together to strengthen education and the future.

When sixth graders study neuroscience, they learn core science concepts and discover career paths that can contribute to their community.

Susan Rundell Singer

We found the programs that Nancy P. Moreno, Alana D. Newell, Matthew L. Blank, and Paul E. Klotman describe to be both inspiring and instructive. This long-running, impressive commitment of a major university to the improvement of local precollege education has produced outstanding, science-focused public schools at both the middle and high school levels. And with student entry being determined by lotteries, these schools have strikingly demonstrated the power of an outstanding education to vastly improve lives.

Here at the University of California, San Francisco, the Science and Health Education Partnership has for decades led a summer High School Intern Program in our local school district that has similarly demonstrated that universities can make a huge difference. In this program, 80% of alumni who earn college degrees do so in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics—the STEM fields—and nearly all students are the first in their family to attend college. How might the nation reach many more young Americans in such ways?

The Houston Independent School District is to be congratulated for the flexibility it has shown in entrusting Baylor employees with continually designing and testing new curricula. Nancy Moreno has led Baylor’s Center for Educational Outreach for more than 30 years and has piloted numerous successful initiatives. And we find it notable that the president of the Baylor College of Medicine, Paul Klotman, joins her as a coauthor.

Their article highlights the need to broaden the goals of science education to include critical health and medical topics—none of which are emphasized in the Next Generation Science Standards that were issued in 2013 and have been adopted by numerous states. The authors therefore propose an expansion of the STEM nomenclature to STEMM, with the second M denoting medicine. We find ourselves convinced by their arguments, and also believe the nation’s experience during the recent COVID pandemic strongly supports such a change.

The United States is expected to face a significant health care workforce shortage in the coming decade, and providing students with multiple opportunities to interact with biomedical researchers and health care professionals throughout their K–12 education is a critical strategy for demystifying these careers and enabling students to see themselves in such careers. As at Baylor, we have found significant changes in K–12 students’ perceptions of science and health fields catalyzed by the more than 150 volunteers our program supports in classrooms each year.

In sum, this article reveals the power of partnerships between colleges and universities and their local K–12 public school systems. Very few might be expected to be as extensive as Baylor’s, but it seems critical that more federal funding be directed to this work. Encouragingly, the National Institutes of Health recently reissued funding via its Science Education Partnership Award. But still lacking is the support that the National Science Foundation, the Howard Hughes Medical Institute, and other organizations, both public and private, once provided for such partnerships.

Bruce Alberts

Katherine Nielsen