Tracy Hunter’s path to medicine was a winding one.
After an undergraduate degree in business and divinity school, she joined Teach for America in New Orleans right as the city’s schools reopened after Hurricane Katrina. While teaching math and social studies to middle schoolers, Tracy first came face-to-face with the fallout of their traumas—students lived in constant fear of another hurricane-related closure, often crying in the hallways as the threat of another storm loomed.
During one such incident, one of Tracy’s best students was visibly disengaged, putting his head down on the desk during class. “He broke down, saying, ‘I’ve had this headache that won’t go away,’” Tracy recalls. “I realized this kid was stressed and responding to something he did not know how to handle. As an educator, I didn’t know how to help him either.”
Tracy set her sights on a career in child psychiatry, wanting to develop skills to care for children facing trauma and mental illness. Then, her mother was diagnosed with cancer. When Tracy would share her psychiatry plans with her mother’s doctors, without fail, they would tell her that any good doctor is also a good psychiatrist.
She took that insight to heart, and after 10.5 years of medical school and service in the U.S. Army, Tracy realized family medicine was more in line with her skills and applied to the residency program at the U’s School of Medicine. Her diverse background has made her one of the program’s strongest residents, says Tracy’s mentor, Saskia Spiess, a family physician at University of Utah Health.
Now in her third year of residency, Tracy’s time in New Orleans still guides her approach to patients. Her work is grounded in trauma-informed care, which is sensitive to the impact of trauma and focuses on creating safety, trust, and empowerment. She interacts with patients in a gentle, human-first way that prioritizes listening and permission.
“Every step of the way, I’m making sure we’re in it together,” she says. “I’m asking, ‘Is it okay if I listen to your heart now?’ And I don't assume that because they allowed me to listen to their heart, they’re OK with me pressing on their belly.”
In a state where just 2 percent of the population identifies as Black, Tracy wasn’t sure she’d find enough patients to trust her with their care. “Before I’d walk into the room, I’d wonder if [patients] knew what they were getting,” she says. “It was a concern I didn’t need to have.”
With a reputation as a doctor who is warm and welcoming to all, Tracy has built a patient roster that includes people from a wide range of backgrounds, ages, and genders. “The more I got to know my patients, it was clear that, for them, [my skin color] didn’t matter,” she says. “It just mattered that they had somebody who cared for them.”
Appreciative of the mentorship she received, she now gives back through Black Physicians of Utah, a supportive community of Black physicians and aspiring providers. The group was founded by Richard Ferguson, who also did his family medicine residency at the U.
“It’s important for young people to see people in positions they dream of seeing themselves in,” says Tracy, noting that only 2.8 percent of physicians nationwide are Black women. “People believe in what they can see.”
As Tracy prepares to complete her residency in 2026, she’s thinking about her next step, yet unsure where her winding journey will lead. While she’s still in Utah, Tracy spends her free time enjoying long nature walks, reading, music, biking, and skiing. She has a special place in her heart for Park City’s National Ability Center.
But like any point in her path so far, she remains guided by a strong sense of purpose. “The most important thing I can do is to commit myself to things that are important and meaningful,” she says. “I want to be part of affecting, even in small ways, people’s lives.”
By Christina Hernandez Sherwood; Photos by Niki Chan Wylie