Starting a substack
(Why now, Why Me)
For 2 decades, I’ve written in spaces that reward caution, such as academic journals, committee reports, and professional statements. They have their place. But lately I’ve found that the conversations that matter most no longer fit solely within those boundaries. The space for honest reflection about morality, medicine, faith, and public life continues to shrink. That’s why I’m starting this Substack.
I want to write in a way that connects intellect and conscience, to think out loud about questions that sit between the personal and the political, the professional and the spiritual. What does it mean to act with integrity when truth itself feels negotiable? How do communities rebuild trust after division? How do we stay human in an age that rewards outrage over reflection?
These aren’t abstract questions for me. As a physician and teacher, I’ve spent my career trying to listen closely - to patients, students, and colleagues - and to help people make decisions grounded in evidence and empathy. As a Jewish person of faith, I’ve wrestled with what it means to hold moral clarity in a world that often confuses compassion with equivalence. As a citizen, I’ve watched public debate lose its capacity for nuance, gratitude and grace.
Substack offers something rare: a slower pace and a direct connection between writers and readers. There’s no algorithm deciding what people see, no race to go viral. Just ideas, stories, and conversation. It allows me to write the way I think, analytically but personal, rigorous yet human.
I expect to explore many themes. Some will come from my work in medicine: the human side of science, the tension between care and cost, and the lessons medicine can teach about resilience. Others will draw from Jewish tradition and history, the ways faith, doubt, and moral responsibility shape how we respond to violence, antisemitism, and injustice. And some pieces will simply look at how we live together-how families, institutions, and communities still find purpose in a fractured world.
I’m not starting this to add to the noise or to preach certainty. Quite the opposite, I hope to ask more questions than I answer. In the clinical exam room, patients come in and tell me about all their problems, physical, emotional and even spiritual. I listen, ask questions, and try to understand. My patient’s health concerns almost always are about themselves, their family or friends. Depression and anxiety frequently co-exist with their declining health, and both worsen when the world seems more uncertain, fragile or even violent.
However, these conversations do not rely on politics, political affiliation, or entrenched positions; rather, they depend on listening and trust. In this process, we often find a path forward that offers hope and that strengthens the relationship. I aspire for hope anchored in healing, respect, science, and faith..-
My Substack then is one that I hope will extend the conversations from the clinic to the community. I’m doing it to reclaim a kind of conversation that has become rare — one grounded in facts but open to doubt, respectful of others yet unwilling to blur moral lines for comfort. If there’s a single thread running through my work, it’s the belief that humility and clarity are not opposites; they belong together. I welcome all respectful conversation.
This will be a space for reflection, not reaction. Some posts will be essays, others short notes or even poetry. My hope is that readers, whether students, colleagues, or anyone curious about how we rebuild moral and civic trust, will find something here worth engaging with, even if they disagree.
I love Substack, as I see in it a community of thinking people who still believe words matter. I want to be part of that. And I want to invite others, especially those who feel uncertain, about their health, faith, or politics, to join me. Because a middle ground, when built on conscience and questions isn’t weakness. It’s where real courage begins.


All of us are so fortunate to hear Dr. Adam Goldstein’s (my amazing husband) reflections. His work as a family physician, researcher, volunteer, and advocate comes from a place of deep caring. His voice reminds us what it means to lead with kindness and conviction.
Proud of you