On a stretch of Tampa where Interstate 275 and Interstate 4 merge into one of the city's most congested corridors, more than 200,000 vehicles rumble past every single day. The exhaust settles on windows, on skin, in lungs—particularly in the neighborhoods that ring these highways, where residents who can least afford it are breathing the heaviest load of traffic-related air pollution.
This disparity is exactly why Dr. Amy Stuart and her team at USF's College of Public Health set out to reimagine how we measure the air people actually breathe. Traditional air quality monitors—the kind government agencies rely on—are accurate but sparse, expensive, immobile, and require trained technicians to operate. They create blind spots at the neighborhood scale, missing the very places where pollution hits hardest. The result? Communities, especially poor neighborhoods and communities of color, have little trusted data about the toxins in their own air.
Stuart's breakthrough came in partnering with recent doctoral graduate Yonghong Luo to test a different approach: small, low-cost sensor devices that measure pollutants in real-time. Over two years, they deployed PurpleAir II and Clarity Node-S monitors around Tampa's I-275 and I-4 interchange, tracking fine particles and nitrogen dioxide in the city's humid conditions. But sensors alone weren't enough. The real innovation was what came next: Luo and Stuart created a classification system to translate complex technical data into something communities and policymakers could actually use and trust.
"This research is important because it helps address a real-world problem: how communities can understand and trust air quality data," Luo explained. Where traditional monitors can't capture what people are experiencing in their neighborhoods, accessible sensor networks paired with user-friendly mobile apps and interactive online maps put air quality information at people's fingertips. A tap reveals the reality of the air outside your door.
The stakes of this work are personal. According to Hillsborough County's Transportation Planning Organization, more than one-quarter of the county's total population lives within 1,000 feet of a high-volume road—a concentration of exposure that falls disproportionately on residents of lower-income neighborhoods. Stuart notes that residents in these communities had long been skeptical that government data truly protected their health. Giving them access to their own local monitors shifted something fundamental: it got them involved, made the data theirs.
The research emerged from a collaborative effort with the Hillsborough County Transportation Planning Organization, the Environmental Protection Commission, the Tampa Heights Junior Civic Association, and community partners. The results, published in Atmospheric Environment, suggest a path forward that addresses not just air quality science but also environmental justice—the recognition that urban planning decisions about where highways go have long-term health consequences that fall hardest on those with the least power to resist.
Looking ahead, Luo sees the potential clearly: "This work can support better public health protection by improving how air quality data is communicated. It will empower communities to make informed decisions and help policymakers use local data to address pollution more effectively." In Tampa and beyond, giving neighborhoods the tools to measure their own air is the first step toward demanding cleaner air—and ensuring that the people breathing it get a real say in how their cities are built.