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When a COVID-19 outbreak swept through a choir rehearsal in early 2020, it didn’t just spark headlines—it ignited a research journey for Corey Murphey.

Murphey, a fifth-year PhD student in the��Department of Computer Science at ������Ƶ, is using computational modeling to explore how aerosols are generated by the vocal folds during everyday actions such as speech and even singing. Her work aims to understand the spread of pathogens through these aerosols and limit the transmission of airborne, infectious diseases.

“There has been a fair amount of aerosol and air quality research done here at ������Ƶ, but I am trying to explore the modeling side of things,” said Murphey. “I think it will give us a more mechanistic understanding of where these aerosols are being generated. If we can understand where they are coming from, we might gain insight into what pathogens are making their way out.”

The early inspiration and research

The work is inspired by the global COVID-19 pandemic. But Murphey said there was one specific moment that really caught her attention and guided her down this path: the infamous choir rehearsal in Skagit Valley, Washington.

One of the earliest and most significant outbreaks in the United States, the Skagit Valley choir outbreak was lethal. Of the 61 attendees, 53 were infected with COVID-19, according to CNN. Two of the participants ultimately died.

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PhD student Corey Murphey performing some testing in the lab.

Many people see the superspreader event as a pivotal moment that heavily influenced public health policies related to indoor gatherings. For researchers, it raised another alarm—could the act of singing have caused the virus to spread at a higher rate?

“I grew up singing in choirs and whatnot, so seeing a two-and-a-half hour choir rehearsal affect that many people was difficult,” Murphey said. “There was something related to singing—the severity of phonation that occurs when singing—that caused this event. I just wanted to continue some of the experimental research that was already being done.”

Murphey hopes her models can help guide public health policy in the event of another pandemic. Or could help raise awareness between the connection between speech and pathogen emission so that people are more cognizant of their actions.

“We’re looking at patient-specific diagnostic tools that can help us determine how certain voice disorders or geometries can change aerosol production. It will help us look at what types of public health measures we can propose—or even things as simple as adapting certain vocal ranges during a rehearsal if the risk of admitting aerosol is high,” said Murphey. “We also want people to just talk about the dangers of speech. Everybody knows the mantras ‘cover your mouth when you cough’ or ‘cover your nose when you sneeze.’ It’s the same sort of principle here with speech.”

The outlet outside of research

Murphey is not just a skilled researcher. She is also a talented swimmer with roots going all the way back to her childhood.

Growing up, Murphey excelled as a pool swimmer. She started competing on swim teams at the young age of three and continued through high school, winning a handful of meets along the way.

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Murphey holding up a medal for an open-water swimming competition.

When she started her college journey at Stanford University, Murphey competed for a club team in Palo Alto, California. It allowed her to stay engaged in the swim community while also providing room for academics.

“It actually worked out really well,” Murphey said. “I was able to get on board as the manager of the women’s swim team during my senior year. It allowed me to continue swimming and it provided me with some structure. I was able to be involved in the community and still have time to focus on my engineering degree.”

After receiving her undergraduate degree, Murphey also acquired her master’s degree at the same university. She decided her next step was achieving a PhD from ������Ƶ, but another life event awaited her.

At the age of 32, Murphey’s grandfather had a laryngectomy—a surgical procedure to remove part of the voice box. This left him with an open larynx and put him at a higher risk during the pandemic because masks failed to cover his stoma.����

Concerned for his health, Murphey took on the responsibility of being his caretaker. To cope with the stress of caretaking, she said there was a void that needed to be filled.

“I was looking for an outlet with swimming, but I felt like I needed something different,” said Murphey. “I wanted to swim peacefully and focus on enjoying it.”

That outlet for Murphey was open-water swimming. Unlike pool swimming, there is no lap structure, stroke restrictions, rigid distance limit or even emphasis on speed. Wherever there was open water—like a reservoir or a lake—she could swim until her heart desires.

“The departure from the controlled environment of pool swimming was exactly what I needed,” Murphey said. “Nothing in open water, whether it's the temperature or the conditions, is controlled and it feels liberating. It’s completely free.”

The harmony of research and hobby

Murphey is considered a marathon open-water swimmer, meaning anything longer than six miles. Her current sights are set on 20 mile swims in environments around the country that can change in seconds.

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Murphey swimming on an open-water competition alongside a kayaker.

Recently, Murphey took first-place in the��, a four-day swim stage race in Arizona that spans a total cumulative distance of 41.7 miles. It’s one of the largest organized marathon swims in the world and it took Murphey over 15 cumulative hours to complete.

“I went into the competition just wanting to finish. I really wasn’t expecting to win,” said Murphey. “It was the experience that I was more grateful for—the people that I met and the overall challenge I endured.”

It’s Murphey’s time in the open water that allows her to unplug from the world and be at peace with herself. But those benefits don’t leave when she exits the water. Every swim brings along a new perspective that she can carry into her research career, as well.

“Being completely disconnected from the world when I am in the water is truly meditative,” Murphey said. “I have some time out there to clear my head, but also think through life and research problems. It allows me to be more mindful when I come back to the lab or my teaching.”

On the flip side, there is also a fluid-structure connection in Murphey’s research that gives her a unique upper hand when she sets foot on a long swim. She said her background as an engineer has actually made her a better swimmer, fundamentally changing the way she views the sport.

“Sometimes I make changes to my strokes, head position and even breathing when I am in the water depending on the fluid mechanics and conditions of the environment,” said Murphey. “There are a lot of little changes you can make to fight currents or save energy. I’ve learned to approach these situations in a fun, scientific way.”

Murphey has her eyes on some future swim events and another year of research. Both come with their challenges, but one thing is for certain: as long as she can feel the water, she can conquer the tide.