February always sneaks up on me. It arrives fast—right on the heels of the holidays, just as I feel like I’m finally exhaling, finding my footing, and carving o…
February always sneaks up on me.
It arrives fast—right on the heels of the holidays, just as I feel like I’m finally exhaling, finding my footing, and carving out a little quiet after the noise of December and the emotional weight of early January. January 8. MLK Day. Memorials. Service. Reflection. If you wait to truly “start” the new year until after those moments pass, suddenly the last two weeks of January are gone… and here we are—already in the second month of the first quarter.
It’s February 6 as I write this—the first Friday of the month—and here in Tucson, it’s absolutely beautiful. While much of the country is bundled up, we’re leaning into 72–75° days, blue skies, and that unmistakable sense that it’s time to move. It’s also the point in the year when we can no longer say Happy New Year and mean it. The work is here. The energy shifts. Conferences, events, and community gatherings begin to buzz again.
I’ve always believed that much of the year’s meaningful work gets done between February and May, and then again September through November. February is the on-ramp.
This month also carries weight and meaning. It’s Black History Month, Heart Health Month, Teen Dating Violence Awareness Month, Cancer Prevention Month, and Vision Awareness Month. February 4 marks World Cancer Day. February 7 honors National Girls and Women in Sports Day. Burn Awareness Week falls February 2–9. There’s a lot being recognized—and a lot worth pausing for.
For me personally, February always centers on heart health, Black history, and love. My dad’s birthday falls on February 14—Valentine’s Day—and every year that date reminds me that love shows up in many forms: family, community, service, and the quiet commitment we make to take care of ourselves and one another.
This month, I’m especially grateful to be stepping out into community again—attending the American Heart Association Heart Gala as a guest of a dear friend, and being reminded why it’s so important to know the facts about heart disease, stroke, and cardiovascular risk. February is also a great moment to do a personal “spot check”: What did you promise yourself in January? Are you still honoring it—gently, imperfectly, honestly?
And then there’s February 1.
In Arizona, February 1 marks the kickoff of the statewide Arizona SciTech Festival—weeks filled with science, innovation, and discovery across the state. I love that Arizona celebrates science this way. I always have.
For the past decade or so, February 1 has also been deeply personal. It’s a day I use to honor Margie Browne, a former advisory council member and the mother of Dr. Laurel B. Clark, one of the seven astronauts who lost their lives when Space Shuttle Columbia disintegrated upon reentry. I met Margie years ago at her home in SaddleBrooke at sunset on February 1. That evening, I witnessed her release an honor into the sky—an unforgettable moment that grounded my own commitment to science, service, and remembrance.
So for me, February 1 is the real starting line. The moment I say, Alright—this is the year. Let’s go. It’s when I “bust out of the gate” as the citizen scientist I’ve always been, inspired by leaders like Jeremy Babendure and the Arizona SciTech Institute, and grateful that our state continues to lean into innovation, science, and collaboration.
That said—reflection also requires honesty.
We are still facing real challenges. Workforce gaps in healthcare. A health literacy crisis—where 9 out of 10 Americans are not proficient in health literacy. A system where the majority of healthcare costs are tied to preventable, long-term chronic disease. These are not abstract issues. They affect families, businesses, educators, and communities every single day.
While I’m proud to co-lead The Force for Health® Network alongside our Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Rob Gillio, I’m still—at my core—a Main Street mama. I lead with lived experience, curiosity, connection, and a deep desire to help bridge gaps between people and systems that often feel disconnected.
Maybe it’s my Filipino roots, but I’ve always been wired to connect silos—to bring people together who are working toward the same health outcomes but aren’t always talking to one another. I’ve written about this before, but I see my role much like I did in my volleyball days—as a Setter.
What many people don’t realize is that a Setter’s job is only as easy—or as hard—as the team’s ability to pass and dig. A perfect play isn’t about one position shining; it’s a system. Dig. Set. Spike. Three very different functions, three distinct roles—and every one of them completely dependent on the others for success. If the pass is off, the set is harder. If the set is off, the spike never lands. No one wins alone.
That’s how I think about population health. It’s a team sport, not a solo act.
And if I’m honest, that’s also why I’ve always gravitated toward the in-between roles in life. In basketball, I played the 2-guard. Not the main point—way too much pressure. Not the power forward or center—not big enough. Just the 2, helping move the ball, reading the court, creating flow, and making things happen so others could score. It’s not always the most visible role, but it’s essential.
That’s how I show up in this work. I may not be the one taking the final shot or delivering the closing line, but I’m often helping the play come together—connecting educators, clinicians, community leaders, and families so the system can function better as a whole.
That’s also why being involved with groups like the Arizona Healthcare Action Network matters to me. They’re naming the issues. Inviting collaboration. Asking business and education leaders to step into the conversation. I was honored to support their recent summit—not just through planning and sponsorship, but by helping extend its impact through recap videos and even a recap song produced across nine genres. Because messaging shouldn’t stop when the conference ends.
As someone who has spent decades in partnerships, event strategy, and community building, I know the power of gathering leaders in a room. But I also believe we can do more to carry momentum forward—to capture takeaways, create action plans, and check in along the way. That’s part of the “glue” role I continue to play.
January carried emotional weight. Honoring January 8 here in Tucson. Giving blood and walking the talk. Celebrating MLK Day without our beloved Clarence Boykins. Partnering with the Sickle Cell Foundation of Arizona. Supporting community fairs, disability summits, chronic health conversations, and leaders like Erica Laster, whose work continues to shine a light on families living with sickle cell disease and cancer.
As I step fully into February, I’m in what I call active mode—energized, committed, and yes… still feeling overwhelmed and behind in places. But that’s the perfectly imperfect rhythm of this work and this life.
So I lean in anyway.
I move more.
I eat better.
I choose kindness.
I build resilience.
And I keep showing up—heart first.
These are my Coach Lucy reflections for February. 💛