“When we find our voice, when we reclaim our power, we really get back to the heart of medicine.”
A conversation with Chanelle Diaz, MD, MPH, the winner of the 2026 Bernard Lown Award for Social Responsibility
Lown Institute (LI): You were inspired to become a doctor at six years old. Can you tell us a bit more about that and what it means to you now that you’re a physician?
Chanelle Diaz: The thing that stands out to me is the time I spent at doctor’s offices with my grandmother who was my main caregiver. She was quick to take me to the pediatrician as symptoms came up, which they often do for kids, and I remember it being such a positive experience. The nurses would say, “Oh, here’s the favorite patient” and shower me with love and attention. I had the same pediatrician for most of my life until he retired, and right after my first visit with him I declared to my grandmother “I’m going to be a doctor just like Dr. Ruizsanchez.” I think it was that longitudinal relationship—having a space as a child where you feel comfortable where adults are paying attention and listening to you—that made a big difference. Having someone in a position like that as a doctor was especially impactful.
LI: How has this inspiration changed now that you’ve had years of experience as a doctor?
Chanelle Diaz: I think it gave me a unique perspective about what matters most to patients when they’re seeking care. Growing up I was often my grandparents’ advocate and navigator in the health system. From a really young age, I was learning how to enroll in Medicare and Medicare Advantage plans, navigating specialist appointments, and translating in some cases. When it came to my grandfather, it was navigating dementia and end of life care. So being on that side of the health care system—as a patient and as a family member—really taught me what it means to see a patient as a whole person. It’s that connection that’s necessary for healing in a lot of ways.
LI: You’ve done a lot of work with people who are often seen as invisible or on the margins—immigrants, uninsured patients, injection drug users. Why is it important for physicians to advocate for communities whom society might ignore or push aside?
Chanelle Diaz: I’ve been reflecting on that a lot lately because I think that one of the reasons why we’re in this situation—with rollbacks to healthcare access, cuts to healthcare spending with the “One Big Beautiful Bill Act,” and so on—is that from the outset we didn’t do enough to care for the most unprotected in our communities. When it comes to immigrants and undocumented folks accessing care, we’ve been okay with a two or three tiered system, and that’s allowed for unequal care to exist. The result is that it’s made us all more vulnerable. What we’re seeing now is that system eroding, and not just those on the margins are suffering.
LI: During COVID, you publicly called for ICE detainees to be released because of the public health risks, putting yourself at some professional risk. What did the pandemic reveal about the relationship between public health and human rights in the United States?
Chanelle Diaz: I was in the hospital in the Bronx at the onset of the pandemic and what we saw in New York City—the epicenter of the pandemic—was that our patients were dying disproportionately. It was like all of the cracks that existed in our safety net just widened. Patients lost access to primary care and specialty care overnight. To me, it was really clear that structural racism was what was driving a lot of the deaths and mortality. We knew that our patients were sharing close spaces, with many generations living together. So many elders were dying and yet we were recommending that sick people stay home which was in fact putting whole families at risk. And when it came to vaccines and who had access to them, you had to drive up to get a shot despite the fact that so many people don’t have cars in New York City.
What is happening now is that we’re forgetting some of the most important lessons that were learned from the pandemic. For example, immigrants were more likely to be in the essential worker category and therefore at risk of contracting COVID—19 but many were excluded from access to healthcare and insurance. I think this really gets to who our society views as expendable.
LI: Did you always understand how the power you have as a medical professional could extend beyond the clinic walls?
Chanelle Diaz: That’s something that I realized in medical school and was really surprised to learn. The biggest takeaway for me in this way was in the advocacy work that I did around needle exchange. When we started, those in power were saying, “This will never pass in Florida. People have tried. It’s just never going to happen.” We just refused to accept that. We refused to believe that it wasn’t possible to implement evidence-based policy. We tried anyway because the cost of inaction was too high to continue to do nothing. When we started to work with the Florida Medical Association and lobby our legislators, we realized that people would listen to us especially because we were medical students. Not only do I think the white coat has power, but I think that people appreciate the optimism of trainees. There’s something about being a trainee and not having yet been corrupted by the system that allows people to put their guard down.
LI: Many clinicians, particularly young clinicians, are told to not rock the boat when it comes to healthcare. What would you say to them?
Chanelle Diaz: I think that what gives me hope in this moment is that so many young clinicians are refusing to stay in their lane and are waking up to their power. The movements that we’ve seen around medical schools and campuses to bring attention to so many issues, like the genocide in Gaza, show that medical students and residents are mobilizing despite the great risks. At my former institution, Montefiore Medical Center in the Bronx, residents during the pandemic organized and formed a union.
When we find our voice, when we reclaim our power, we really get back to the heart of medicine. That in itself is resistance. That’s my message for all clinicians, but especially for young clinicians: ground yourselves in your values and I don’t think that you can go wrong.
LI: If you were to challenge healthcare leaders and policy makers, what’s the one bold action they could take tomorrow to help ease the suffering of those marginalized in our current healthcare system?
Chanelle Diaz: To the healthcare leaders who are pivoting in the wrong direction, I would ask them to take a moment to think about what’s really needed right now. And that’s not to view medicine as a business, but really to re-imagine a healthcare system that’s actually able to heal people. We’re at the point where we’ve been patching together so many fixes on this sinking healthcare boat that maybe it’s time to let that boat sink and build a new one that will actually be able to care for everybody. We’re going to need bold action over the next decade and that’s going to require policies that reaffirm everybody’s humanity, including undocumented patients.
LI: What does winning the Bernard Lown Award for Social Responsibility mean to you given that context?
Chanelle Diaz: I will say that this is the most significant recognition that I could get. One of the things that has really struck me the most in learning about Dr. Lown is what he saw as the physician’s responsibility and how it wasn’t something that just ended in the exam room. He was able to be in both places at once: with his patients but also thinking about the bigger systems that were influencing the communities he served. So, it’s incredibly inspiring to receive this recognition in honor of Dr. Lown, a physician who I think really embodied the best of medicine.