Reflections on a legacy of mentorship.

Despite their importance, our mentors and advisers rarely receive the high praise that they are most deserving of unless we are to count the acknowledg- ments that we are obliged to provide at the outset of dissertations or at the close of a published manuscript. So, having this opportunity to openly reflect on the indelible impression that an individual mentor has provided and the ways in which Joan has helped to inform my scholarship is indeed, for me, a happy occasion.For the past 8 years, I have spent a great deal of time and energy research- ing the social, historical, and cultural underpinnings of health disparities, par- ticularly among racial minorities and individuals with low resources. Most of us here today are likely aware that those racial minorities and those with lower incomes suffer worse health outcomes. African Americans, for instance, suffer higher rates of mortality across most health indices, experience a higher preva- lence of AIDS/HIV, are more likely to be uninsured or underinsured, have increased constraints on their access to health care, experience lower rates of satisfaction with their health care providers, and report higher rates of mistrust of their medical providers and lower use of health care resources. My research as a historian over the past 8 years has attempted to unravel some of the com- plex undercurrents driving these health disparities. And seeks to understand what nurses and communities can do to improve health outcomes in racial minority communities.That journey began in 2004 with a dissertation that would seek to capture the illness experience of Blacks living in Philadelphia at the turn of the 20th century. Using tuberculosis as a vehicle, I sought to discover how communi- ties made sense of illness and created partnerships and networks of support to address the pressing health and social needs of Blacks living in the city. In the early months of my doctoral study, I had a deep interest in the Black church for I imagined that it was a site where the Black community had coalesced to gain information about the risk of infectious diseases such as tuberculosis. I was, in fact, convinced that the Black church had been on the front lines of a "tuberculosis health movement." I had my reasons for my suspicions. The Black church, of course, has historically served as a central institution in the Black community-providing both moral and social consciousness. And there were of course precedents to support my suspicions particularly in Philadelphia. For instance, Richard Allen and Absalom Jones and the Free African Society provided essential medical and nursing aid during the Yellow Fever epidemic of the late 18 th century. And the records of Frederick Douglas Hospital, a Black run hospital located here in Philadelphia at the turn of the 20th century, indicate that it received financial support from churches.So being the good fledgling historian that I was, I began to conduct some reconnaissance to see what archival resources remained to support my suspi- cions. After a trip or two down to Mother Bethel and to several other historic churches, you might imagine my surprise when there were no well-cataloged boxes with file folders waiting for me with information about church activities from 100 years ago. To be sure, Mother Bethel kept some records, but not of the sort that would necessarily have been helpful to someone conducting a dissertation (and one hoping to finish in the next decade).So I took my findings to my dissertation committee comprising the fabulous Dr. Julie Fairmain, the dynamic Dr. Barbara Savage, and of course the sage Dr. Joan Lynaugh-to lament. And this is where the magic would happen. Never one to dash a student's hopes but ready to encour- age and when necessary redirect, I recall Barbara Savage saying to me, "Well Margo, was there a black church health movement?" Hmm, well not that I can put my hands on. Then Joan added in that way that only she could, "Well you might want to check . …