Former School Without Walls Student Dr. Anqesha Murray-Cody is Shaping Science Culture
- George Payne

- 3 hours ago
- 9 min read
On a crisp Rochester morning, a teenage Anqesha Murray-Cody might have missed school if it weren’t for her high school bus driver, who knew she had a tendency to sleep in and would call with a friendly reminder to get up and go. Her mother, she recalls with a laugh, “didn’t make me go to school. She was kind of hippy-like in that way.” That quiet persistence from her community, paired with a freedom to explore, planted the seeds for a life defined by curiosity, resilience, and impact.

Since 2018, Murray-Cody has led the Autumn Rise Foundation, a women-centered nonprofit in Rochester, as CEO. Through scholarships, mentorship, and leadership programs, she empowers women to harness knowledge and perseverance. “Empowering women is at the heart of everything I do,” she says. In 2023, she became COO of ADuCare, applying science to develop cognitive decline tracking software that helps families and healthcare providers make informed, compassionate decisions.
From Rochester classrooms to legislative chambers, from leading a nonprofit to guiding a tech company, Dr. Murray-Cody demonstrates that women in STEM are not only advancing research — they are shaping the culture of science itself. Her story shows young women that science is as much about ethics, leadership, and community as it is about discovery.
Starting from the Beginning
Murray-Cody began her education at School Without Walls, a unique program that did not use traditional grades but instead employed a pass/fail system. “I loved movement, which related to dance,” she recalls. Initially, she dreamed of Broadway, imagining a life as a professional dancer. Eventually, her ambitions shifted toward pre-med, but to access the programs she wanted, she had to start at Monroe Community College (MCC). The combination of creative exploration and academic flexibility at School Without Walls helped her cultivate curiosity, discipline, and a willingness to follow unexpected paths, qualities that would define her scientific and entrepreneurial journey.
At MCC, she almost switched out of science altogether — it didn’t feel engaging. Ecology wasn’t for her, and vertebrate zoology, trudging around looking for snakes, certainly wasn’t it. But she stuck with it, and eventually found her spark in microbiology. “Something you can’t see that can actually kill you — that fascinated me,” she says.
From there, she moved to the University of Rochester, diving into hands-on research that captivated her imagination and set her on the path toward a PhD. After completing her degree, feeling a bit burnt out, she sought new experiences abroad in Canada — where she launched her first company, blending curiosity, innovation, and entrepreneurship.
“I never wanted to be limited,” she reflects. “I never wanted to be put in a box. I would have five different resumes. Am I showing up as the business person today or the science person?” Her natural curiosity drives her to dive deeply into whatever sparks her interest. Following her passions has allowed her to connect with diverse people and bring fresh perspectives to every project. “One thing about me — you have to tell me no. I am going to go for it. I’m not afraid of rejection. I’ve applied for things that felt out of reach, and sometimes I get the opportunities. If I get rejected, I ask why, so I can work on that.”
Her PhD at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute combined rigorous research with practical application. While other programs asked her to focus solely on lab work, RPI valued her business background and offered programs supporting biomedical commercialization and entrepreneurship. It was the perfect environment for a scientist with broad ambitions.

Her doctoral research explored protein interactions in Alzheimer’s disease and neuroinflammation — what she calls “the molecular conversations that underlie memory itself.” Her work delved into the silent interactions between proteins and cells that eventually manifest as the loss of memory and, ultimately, the self.
“When you think about those microscopic processes, you can’t help but reflect on what it means to be human,” she says. “Doing that research gave me a greater appreciation for life.”
Growing up in poverty, she once equated joy with material experiences — “going on vacation or getting a new car.” But meeting people diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and their families shifted her perspective. “The thing they value most are their memories — the time they had with their children,” she says softly. “I can’t imagine losing that connection with the people you love.”
That realization transformed her approach to work and life. “I used to be a workaholic. I was always doing something,” she admits. “But this research made me step away. It gave me a new appreciation for relationships — for unplugging a bit. I hadn’t seen my family in four years, and I finally decided to stop and reconnect.”

A Foundation of Family and Self-Worth
Her mother’s quiet guidance also shaped Murray-Cody’s confidence in her own trajectory. “My mom is one of those people who taught me you are already a piece of artwork,” she says. She remembers earning a C in a college course: “My mom was like, ‘That’s good, honey, you passed.’ They didn’t understand what I was doing. They thought I was a forever student. But when they saw me hooded, walking across the stage at graduation, that’s when it hit them. They realized this is what I was prepared to do. They could finally see what it was all about.”
That quiet yet profound encouragement instilled persistence and self-compassion, teaching her to honor both the rigor of her work and the humanity behind it.
Navigating Ethics in Biomedical Commercialization
As someone deeply passionate about biomedical commercialization, Murray-Cody has often faced the ethical tension between scientific discovery for public good and the realities of profit-driven innovation. “I think it is definitely challenging,” she admits. “I remember being in rooms hearing about new technology being developed and wondering how long it would take to reach the common household.”
Her first company she started with $500; her second, with $1,000. Investors, she recalls, were singularly focused on returns: “All they wanted to know was when this was going to make money. The scientist in me was focused on different markers, on treatments being more effective, on preparation for people in their daily lives. What can this do for the people rather than the profits?”
She quickly realized that health itself is a business, and promoting solutions required navigating that reality.
“There were conversations about selling people’s data to raise more money. As a co-founder, I had to say no, even if it meant investors turned away. For me, it came down to hard decisions about accessibility. I never want to develop something only the wealthy can access. With my app, I want it to be available to other agencies and downloadable for free for families who need these resources.” Walking that line — between impact and profitability — remains a defining principle in her work.
Translating Science to Policy
Murray-Cody’s curiosity and ethical grounding also guided her transition into politics, where she currently serves as a Science Policy Fellow with the Rockefeller Institute of Government and is placed at the New York State Senate. “Politics — I’m still learning. The motives, agendas, and personas behind what reaches the public are fascinating to navigate,” she says. “As a scientist, I’m trained not to answer if I don’t know something. We don’t do fluff. We strive to be open with our knowledge. In government, that is not always the case. The knowledge we have and how we convey it to the public is critical. We try not to push narratives that won’t aid the public.”
She worked on and successfully enacted a few recommendations of the New York State Daniel’s Law Task Force, providing the New York State Office of Mental Health with funding to establish peer support grant programs and technical assistance to local governments to assist individuals dealing with mental health crises.
One of the most striking aspects of her work is the level of detail required — and how that detail must be adapted for each audience. “The biggest thing for me is the details. If 55 million people are diagnosed with dementia worldwide, that is important. But if I go to a senator, they’re going to ask, ‘What does this mean for my constituents in my district?’ I explain how many people are diagnosed, which facilities are operating locally, and some of the issues constituents may face. They don’t need all the information — they need to understand the effects. When I speak to the secretary of finance, I translate it in economic terms: how much new legislation may bring in, and how that might cover a needs gap. Sometimes people have that glassy-eye look, but with time, I’ve gotten better at communicating. It’s this: ‘Here is the problem. Here is the solution.’ When working on big issues, I may only have two minutes. I have to identify the high-level speaking points.”
The stakes in policy work feel much higher than in the lab. “When I messed up an experiment in the lab, that only affected me and my progress. But if I don’t do my research here, it can impact all New Yorkers. There are times at 1 a.m. on the Senate floor when I just want to sleep. But I know I have to keep going, because what I deliver has an immediate effect. I’m not going to hide or sugarcoat it.”

Shaping Scientific Excellence and Inclusivity
Murray-Cody’s experiences as a Black woman in biomedical research have profoundly shaped her understanding of who gets to define scientific excellence — and what inclusivity in STEM should look like. “For most of my career, I was often the only Black person in the room,” she reflects. In competitive science programs, student groups often formed along racial or cultural lines, leaving students of color isolated.
“I never intentionally isolated myself,” she says. “I joined the Black Graduate Association, other networks, and the Graduate Women in Science organization. You feel like you have to be your best self, like you are representing all Black women. But if I focused on that too much, it would get in my head.” Her solution: lean on mentorship and community while staying focused on her own growth. “As a first-generation student, I didn’t have anyone. But when my niece rises up, she will have me. I will help her navigate.”
Mentorship was pivotal in every stage of her education and career. She recalls mentors who helped refine her CV, guided her nonprofit initiatives, and instilled leadership lessons. “One manager at a residential home in Rochester, who became a CEO with business and leadership experience, taught me that nobody cares how hard it is — they care about results. That helped me get out of a victim mindset and learn how to deliver no matter what.”
Her doctoral advisors also played complementary roles. “One was intensely scientific, focused on making me the best researcher I could be. The other balanced science with entrepreneurship, running multiple companies. I identified what I wanted at the time and picked advisors who would help me get there. That combination shaped who I am today.”
Embracing Uncertainty and the Pursuit of Knowing
Philosophers often ask, “What does it mean to know?” For Murray-Cody, navigating the shifting landscape of biomedical research has given her a practical understanding of knowledge and uncertainty. “As an early scientist, I struggled with this the most,” she says. “Reading something in a textbook, you think this is how it’s done. But then the central dogma gets flipped on its head. Two things can be true at once. A knowledgeable person constantly reframes their perspective. We have to recognize that the information we have will never be complete, and yet we can still draw actionable conclusions. Those people make the best leaders — they take in new info, adapt, and apply it to what they are trying to achieve.”
Her PhD work taught her that expertise is temporal. “I was an expert on one tiny thing. That is a great feeling. But in five years, someone else will carry it on, and it will be theirs. I want to understand what we already know but also remain adaptable. I want to be able to work effectively, knowing that knowledge is never static.”
A Legacy of Curiosity and Humanity
Looking forward to the year 2050, Murray-Cody imagines the impact of her work on future scientists. “If a young scientist cites my work as the reason they entered the field, I hope they say I taught them not just about science, but about being human in the pursuit of knowledge. The most important thing for me is to not put myself in a box, to stay curious, and to believe that you can do hard things.”
Yet she remains acutely aware of the disconnects between state and federal priorities, and the sense of systemic helplessness that can accompany policy work. “The most challenging part for me right now is the huge disconnect between what we value at the state level and what is propagated federally. It can feel overwhelming. As someone who directly works with Medicaid and Medicare, I make sure New Yorkers stay connected and get the right information, both professionally and personally. Unemployment among Black women has gone up significantly, and those gaps are real. It keeps me grounded in why this work matters.”
In her vision, science is a shared journey, one that uplifts those who come after, creating a world where knowledge, innovation, and empathy move in harmony.

















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