Five Questions with Hannah Safron
Getting to Know a GW Cancer Center Community Health Advocate Who’s All In
Hannah Safron’s journey to Washington, DC was shaped by a strong sense of service, curiosity, and commitment to community health. From her roots in suburban Chicago to her current work as a Community Health Associate at the GW Cancer Prevention and Wellness Center, Hannah is fueled by a passion for public health and authentic connection.
What’s your story?
My story begins in the Chicago suburbs, which is where I grew up. I have a background in public health and graduated from the University of Illinois at Chicago when I was 20 years old. I wanted some time and space before entering the real world, so I joined AmeriCorps. I’d considered Peace Corps but liked the idea of serving in communities in need in my own country. I joined the AmeriCorps NCCC program and spent a year traveling and working with community organizations.
That experience was instrumental in shaping who I am, and introduced me to DC. I lived in an embassy-turned-community space and worked at the Marvin Gaye Greening Center in Ward 7 doing urban agriculture. I fell in love with the city and knew I had to come back. When I saw a Community Health Associate position at GW open up, I jumped at the opportunity to begin this next chapter.
What gets you out of bed in the morning? What motivates you?
A desire to seize every opportunity I can. I love how vibrant this city is — the diversity of the people I find myself interacting with and how accessible everything is through public transit. In my role, I’m always looking for where people gather, so I can meet them in community spaces instead of clinics. I’ve been welcomed with open arms by Washingtonians, even as a transplant.
I’m also inspired by the informal health advocates I meet—people who do this work without getting paid, just out of love for their community. Connecting with civic groups like the Ward 8 Health Council, where people are truly working together for change, empowers me. As the council leader, Jaren Hill Lockridge, often says, “I stand on the shoulders of giants.” I want to do the giants proud.
What is that one book that has influenced you the most?
The Untethered Soul (Michael A. Singer) completely changed my worldview. It introduced me to meditation and Buddhist philosophy in a very accessible way. It taught me how to see myself as the observer of my thoughts rather than being defined by them. That shift has helped me find a kind of internal peace I now try to cultivate through meditation.
In this line of work, which can be emotionally heavy, meditation helps me meet the pain I encounter — with others and within myself — with love rather than burnout.
You and your work have made a difference for many people in our community. Is there one person who made a difference for you?
Yes — my high school teacher, Miss Melissa Fainman! She supervised our trips to a soup kitchen in Chicago called A Just Harvest. It was the first time I was encouraged to speak with strangers, to listen and connect with them. As a high schooler, that was intimidating. But over time, it became second nature — and it taught me the power of genuine human connection.
I still chase that feeling today at health fairs, churches, grocery stores — anywhere I can really connect with people. It keeps me grounded and uplifted at the same time.
What is the most interesting thing we should know about you?
When I’m not attending community events and fairs for work, I’m often at them for fun. I jam-pack my social calendar with concerts, film screenings, garden events, farmers markets, and group poetry writing. I might be one of the busiest people I know socially!
If I’m not at work, you’ll probably spot me zipping around the city on a Capital Bikeshare bike, going from one commitment to the next. That’s why it’s so hard for me to choose a favorite DC experience—I’m always chasing the next one.
Returning
Hannah Safron
Calluses, groceries,
Telomeres, vitamins,
Heated seats and fevers,
Metro boombox, dogs’ barks.
Miracles disguised as nuisances.
Growing to protect, failing to do so.
Mortal bodies tend to shudder,
Shut down in sensory overload.
I don’t wonder why we cower through life–
Doom-scrolling to squander
Evidence of present ceremony.
But presence hangs back anyway.
Can you find it? (The place each breath begins.)
Heat of muscle working.
Water you fill for the morning’s new day.
Stopping for every crying stranger (you will be the crying stranger).
So bask in the produce aisle.
Praise the immune response.
Know noise as life’s hoorah.
There is hope alive.
Breaking open like the stubborn sun.
Hold it in your gaze. Witness.
Share this flame and life extends.
Both for me and for you.
