JEDI: An Evolution Shaped by the Stories
As we close out 2025 and look toward 2026, it feels like a natural moment to pause and reflect on what the JEDI series has become and where it may be headed next. When the series was first introduced, JEDI stood for Justice, Equity, Diversity, and Equality, values that helped frame early conversations around public, forensic, and justice for the people laboratories and the responsibility they carry in serving the public.
Over time, the stories we shared through JEDI began to reveal something quieter and more consistent. The most meaningful narratives were shaped less by architectural terminology and more by the lived experiences of laboratory leaders working through long timelines, limited resources, and profound responsibility. As the series unfolded, it became clear that JEDI was less about defining design ideas and more about listening to what these lab leaders care about.
Across the articles, endurance surfaced repeatedly. Many of the efforts described took years—and often decades—to come into focus, sustained by steady advocacy long after momentum faded. Good laboratory design appeared not as an end in itself, but as a careful, ethical tool that supports scientific integrity, daily operations, and public trust. Finally, the impact emerged as something measured quietly over time—not on the opening day or at a building dedication ceremony, but in how these spaces continue to serve communities and the justice systems long after the headlines have passed.
The Acadiana story reflects this evolution. The efforts to deliver a new forensic laboratory there unfolded over more than four decades, carried forward by successive lab directors who held onto a shared vision despite uncertainty and delay. The project was later championed by a district attorney who, while facing terminal illness, continued working until his final days to help secure funding and ensure that this project could move forward. He saw the laboratory not as a personal achievement, but as a final gift to the community and a way to advocate justice for generations to come. That journey was shaped by patience, care, and commitment rather than speed or recognition.
A quieter, equally meaningful thread emerged in the JEDI article featuring the Denver Office of the Medical Examiner. The Denver facility was approached with deep humility and respect for the mission it serves. At its core was an understanding that the work of a medical examiner is not about buildings or systems but about giving voice to those who can no longer speak. Design decisions were guided by dignity, care for staff, and reverence for the deceased—recognizing that the dead continue to teach the living. Through thoughtful planning, the facility supports accuracy, compassion, and reflection, allowing lessons learned in death to inform justice, public health, and the protection of life.
Together, stories like Acadiana and Denver suggested that the original acronym no longer fully reflected what the JEDI series had grown into. Beginning in 2026, JEDI will stand for Justice, Endurance, Design, and Impact. This change is not meant to redefine the series, but to more accurately reflect what these stories have quietly shown over time.
Looking ahead, the next chapter of JEDI will continue to focus on leaders who push boundaries thoughtfully and on laboratory designs that strengthen justice and public trust. At its heart, this work remains about standing with people who bear the weight of daily responsibility for justice —often without recognition, over long stretches of time, and with outcomes that matter deeply.
Thank you to everyone who has supported the JEDI series and entrusted these stories to be shared.
Happy New Year! Wishing you a happy, healthy, and prosperous year ahead.
All opinions expressed in Design Like a J.E.D.I. with Jinhee Lee are exclusive to the author and are not reflective of Lab Design News.
