Is public health still worth it? Are there even jobs? What will this field look like after graduation? Will this degree lead to jobs I actually want? What is the starting salary in this field? How much debt will I take on?

These are the questions many of us are asking, especially with everything going on in the world. Life can feel hard to navigate. School is demanding. The future feels uncertain. The job market keeps shifting. And for those of us who care about health, community, and equity, public health can feel like a field that is changing every single week.

This is exactly why we need to take action.

Public health has never just been about research, hospitals, or the general population. Public health includes everyone, especially those who have been marginalized, ignored, and left behind. It’s about the policies that encourage and make healthcare accessible for everyone. It’s about who gains autonomy and who is left without choices. For Black communities in particular, public health is deeply personal, and it is up to us to promote resources that make all forms of healthcare access more equitable and improve our lives.

When I first began thinking seriously about public health, I saw it as a field that could connect so many of the things I care about: health equity, community advocacy, policy, education, and access. I thought that entering the field would allow me to make a true difference in the things I cared about, but I was in for quite the surprise.

With the recent administrative changes, my dreams were almost immediately put at a halt. The dismantling of public health as a whole through the “Big Beautiful Bill” has made many of us question whether the field we hoped to enter will even be supported by the time we get there. What once felt like a path forward began to sprint backward without giving us time to even process what was going on. The BBB has raised concerns because of what it has done to healthcare access, public health funding, Medicaid, community programs, and the resources that many marginalized communities rely on. I was told by my professors and mentors that “public health was dying,” as the resources that helped marginalized communities began disappearing from websites and clinics began closing. The One Big Beautiful Bill Act has been reported to reduce federal health spending significantly over the next decade, with major impacts on Medicaid and health coverage, specifically targeting our communities.

Administrative changes have created even more pressure and uncertainty. In 2025, HHS announced a major restructuring plan that would consolidate divisions, centralize functions, reduce regional offices, and cut the department’s workforce. That uncertainty can be scary for students and recent graduates, especially those of us trying to find our place in a field that already feels under attack.

At the same time, the rise of AI is changing how different roles within the public sector are performed. In some ways, AI can make us more efficient. It can help organize data, automate repetitive administrative tasks, summarize information, identify trends, support surveillance, and speed up reporting. But efficiency is not the same thing as equity. Without restrictions, AI has the potential to reinforce the same disparities that public health attempts to address.

This is why post-grad planning matters just as much as degree selection. Before enrolling, students should not only ask if they care about the field, but also whether the degree will lead to jobs they actually want, what the starting salary looks like, and how much debt they may take on. These questions are not meant to discourage us from pursuing public health. Instead, they help us enter the field with more clarity, strategy, and purpose.

As I learned more, I began researching and trying to get involved in organizations that uplift Black students, women, and underserved communities. The act felt like a backstab, and changes like this are personal. They show up in our families, our neighborhoods, our schools, and our futures. But instead of pushing me away from public health, this moment made me realize why the field matters even more.

It is important to remember that just because the field has changed, whether funding has been cut or jobs feel more limited, there is still always a need for public health; we just need to know where to look. The new landscape of public health may include more technology, more AI, more data, and more competition, but it will also require people who understand the needs of real communities. AI can help identify patterns, but it cannot replace lived experience. It can speed up systems, but it cannot build trust on its own. Public health will still need advocates, educators, researchers, policymakers, and leaders who are committed to making sure that efficiency does not come at the cost of equity.

That is what inspired me to pursue my Master’s in Public Health, not because the path feels easy or secure, but because our communities deserve people who are willing to fight for access, equity, and care when those things are being threatened. The future of public health may look different than I expected, but the need for it has not disappeared. If anything, this moment has made it even clearer why we need people who are willing to stay and improve our own futures.