Tatiana Celia Kennedy Schlossberg — daughter of Caroline Kennedy, granddaughter of President John F. Kennedy.
Respected environmental journalist and devoted mother — died on December 30, 2025, at the age of 35 after a courageous battle with a rare and aggressive form of cancer.
Her passing was confirmed in a statement released by the John F. Kennedy Library Foundation on behalf of her family, a declaration that resonated around the world.
The life of Tatiana Schlossberg was one marked by intellectual depth, public service values, journalistic integrity, personal honesty, fierce love for her family, and an extraordinary willingness to share her private struggles with profound openness.
Her story — especially her final months — became an unexpected but powerful testament to resilience, love, and a desire to use every moment meaningfully, even when the future was uncertain.
Early Life and Background
Tatiana Schlossberg was born on May 5, 1990, in New York City, into one of America’s most historically influential families.
She was the daughter of Caroline Kennedy, a former U.S. ambassador and the only surviving child of President John F. Kennedy and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, and Edwin Schlossberg, a noted artist and designer.
As a granddaughter of JFK, Tatiana was not only heir to a powerful legacy of public service but part of a family narrative shaped by both profound achievement and poignant loss.
Raised in a family with deep roots in public life and civic engagement, Schlossberg was instilled with a strong sense of curiosity about the world, a dedication to thoughtful inquiry, and a commitment to social impact.
She excelled academically, graduating from Yale University, where she developed her writing and analytical skills, and later earning a master’s degree from the University of Oxford.
Journalistic Career and Passion for the Environment
Schlossberg carved her own professional identity beyond her family’s historical prominence through journalism, particularly as a writer focused on environmental and climate issues.
She contributed to major publications such as The New York Times, The Atlantic, The Washington Post, Vanity Fair, and Bloomberg News, where her work reflected a blend of investigative rigor and deeply human concern for planet and people alike.
In 2019, she published Inconspicuous Consumption: The Environmental Impact You Don’t Know You Have, a book that explored how everyday choices shape ecological systems, urging readers to consider the often‑hidden consequences of modern life.
Her writing was recognized for its clarity, urgency, and ability to make complex topics accessible — qualities that endeared her to colleagues and readers across generations.
Despite the weight of her family name, Schlossberg made her own mark in journalism by curating stories grounded in science, empathy, and a deep love for the Earth.
She was both an interpreter of facts and a storyteller whose work invited readers to reflect on their place within changing environmental landscapes.
Diagnosis After Childbirth: A Sudden and Surprising Turn
In May 2024, mere hours after giving birth to her second child with her husband, George Moran, Schlossberg’s doctors noticed something unusual.
A routine blood test revealed a dramatically elevated white blood cell count, far outside the normal range, prompting immediate further evaluation.
Within days, she was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia (AML) — a fast‑moving cancer of the blood and bone marrow — with a rare genetic mutation called Inversion 3, a subtype that is diagnosed in less than 2 percent of AML patients and generally carries a poor prognosis.
The diagnosis — coming just as she celebrated the birth of her daughter — was a jarring juxtaposition of joy and fear.
In a deeply personal essay titled “A Battle With My Blood,” published in The New Yorker on November 22, 2025, Schlossberg recounted the disbelief she felt: “I did not — could not — believe that they were talking about me.”
She recalled how she had recently felt strong, active, and healthy — swimming, running, and engaging in physically demanding challenges — making the news all the more shocking.
A Brutal, Unforgiving Battle
From the outset, Schlossberg’s treatment journey was grueling and unremitting. AML is aggressive under any circumstances, but an Inversion 3 mutation greatly increased the difficulty of achieving remission. Over the course of her illness:
She underwent multiple rounds of intensive chemotherapy designed to eradicate leukemic cells.
She spent weeks hospitalized at NewYork‑Presbyterian/Columbia University Irving Medical Center for induction therapy and supportive care.
She received two bone marrow transplants — one using stem cells donated by her sister, Rose Schlossberg, and a second from an unrelated donor after the cancer rebounded or did not sufficiently respond.
She participated in clinical trials, including immunotherapy approaches, seeking to harness emerging medical research for a chance at extended survival.
Despite these heroic efforts and the emotional and physical toll they exacted, the disease proved relentless.
Treatments brought side effects that included severe fatigue, life‑threatening complications like infections while immunocompromised, and painful hospital stays.
Nonetheless, Schlossberg faced each challenge with remarkable candor and clarity, choosing to write about her experiences so that others might better understand the realities of living with terminal illness — and the ways in which even the best science sometimes struggles to keep pace with disease.
The Emotional Toll: Love, Loss, and Motherhood
Throughout her treatment, Schlossberg spoke not only about the clinical hardships but also the emotional ones, especially the heartbreak of limited physical contact with her young children due to infection risks after chemotherapy and transplants.
In her essay, she wrote poignantly about “the pain of knowing my children might not remember me,” a sorrow that many readers found deeply reflective of her devotion as a mother.
She shared that her young son, born in 2022, and her newborn daughter, arrived into a world where their mother was simultaneously celebrating their birth and confronting life‑ threatening illness.
Her reflections on motherhood — the fear, the love, the small moments she could share, and those she feared she would miss — struck a universal chord, even with readers far removed from her personal circumstance.
Support and Strength in Partnership
Throughout her illness, Schlossberg credited her husband, Dr. George Moran, with unwavering support.
Married in 2017 after meeting as undergraduates at Yale University, the couple built a partnership rooted in mutual respect and shared intellectual curiosity.
Moran, a physician and researcher himself, balanced his professional responsibilities with caregiving duties, helping to manage a life disrupted by intense medical regimens while ensuring their children experienced as much love and normalcy as possible.
Their partnership became a central theme in Schlossberg’s writing: an example of how companionship and love can make the most grueling situations “livable.”
Moran’s care and presence, she explained, were sources of strength amid uncertainty, reminding her that even in a life overtaken by illness, love was a consistent and defining force.
Public Honesty, Advocacy, and Reflection on Medical Research
Tatiana Schlossberg’s decision to reveal her illness publicly was not merely personal; it was also an act of advocacy.
In her New Yorker essay, she did not shy away from critique, including candid observations about how public policy and medical research funding affect patients facing life‑ threatening diseases like her own.
She sharply criticized policies advocated by her cousin, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., at the time serving as the U.S. Health and Human Services Secretary, asserting that cuts to research funding and vaccine policy decisions could have real negative consequences for people battling cancer and other diseases.
Her comments sparked national discussion about the connections between public health policy, scientific research support, and real‑world patient experiences.
From her public reflections, it was clear that she approached her illness not only with personal bravery but with a desire to help others understand the stakes of medical research, compassionate care, and evidence‑based policy — especially for conditions where scientific progress can mean the difference between life and death.
Passing and Legacy
Tatiana Schlossberg died peacefully on December 30, 2025, surrounded by family who loved her deeply.
She was 35 years old. Her passing was met with an outpouring of grief and respect from across the United States and around the world, with public figures, friends, colleagues, and strangers alike offering condolences and celebrating her life — not just for who she was, but for how she lived.
In announcing her death, the JFK Library Foundation wrote, “Our beautiful Tatiana passed away this morning.
She will always be in our hearts,” a sentiment that echoed the widespread mourning of a life cut short but lived with extraordinary intention and grace.
Schlossberg leaves behind:
Her husband, George Moran
Their two children — a son (born 2022) and daughter (born 2024)
Her parents, Caroline Kennedy and Edwin Schlossberg
Her siblings, Rose and Jack Schlossberg, who have also shared public tributes to her memory
Her memory will be carried not only by those she loved most but by readers, colleagues, and communities who benefited from her writing, advocacy, and courage.
Remembering Tatiana Schlossberg
Tatiana Schlossberg’s life was shaped by profound curiosity, compassionate insight, and a dedication to meaningful work.
She was a voice for environmental awareness, a chronicler of urgent issues facing our planet, and an articulate communicator who used her platform to bridge facts with humanity.
Her final chapter, defined by an unflinching confrontation with mortality, reminded the world of many truths:
That vulnerability can be a source of strength.
That honesty in the face of adversity can inspire others.
And that even in the most difficult moments, love — for family, for life, and for the world — can endure as a guiding light.
Tatiana’s legacy is not defined solely by the illness that took her life, nor by the grief her passing inspires, but by the courage with which she lived — and wrote — all the way through to her last days.
Tatiana Celia Kennedy Schlossberg — daughter of Caroline Kennedy, granddaughter of President John F. Kennedy.
Respected environmental journalist and devoted mother — died on December 30, 2025, at the age of 35 after a courageous battle with a rare and aggressive form of cancer.
Her passing was confirmed in a statement released by the John F. Kennedy Library Foundation on behalf of her family, a declaration that resonated around the world.
The life of Tatiana Schlossberg was one marked by intellectual depth, public service values, journalistic integrity, personal honesty, fierce love for her family, and an extraordinary willingness to share her private struggles with profound openness.
Her story — especially her final months — became an unexpected but powerful testament to resilience, love, and a desire to use every moment meaningfully, even when the future was uncertain.
Early Life and Background
Tatiana Schlossberg was born on May 5, 1990, in New York City, into one of America’s most historically influential families.
She was the daughter of Caroline Kennedy, a former U.S. ambassador and the only surviving child of President John F. Kennedy and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, and Edwin Schlossberg, a noted artist and designer.
As a granddaughter of JFK, Tatiana was not only heir to a powerful legacy of public service but part of a family narrative shaped by both profound achievement and poignant loss.
Raised in a family with deep roots in public life and civic engagement, Schlossberg was instilled with a strong sense of curiosity about the world, a dedication to thoughtful inquiry, and a commitment to social impact.
She excelled academically, graduating from Yale University, where she developed her writing and analytical skills, and later earning a master’s degree from the University of Oxford.
Journalistic Career and Passion for the Environment
Schlossberg carved her own professional identity beyond her family’s historical prominence through journalism, particularly as a writer focused on environmental and climate issues.
She contributed to major publications such as The New York Times, The Atlantic, The Washington Post, Vanity Fair, and Bloomberg News, where her work reflected a blend of investigative rigor and deeply human concern for planet and people alike.
In 2019, she published Inconspicuous Consumption: The Environmental Impact You Don’t Know You Have, a book that explored how everyday choices shape ecological systems, urging readers to consider the often‑hidden consequences of modern life.
Her writing was recognized for its clarity, urgency, and ability to make complex topics accessible — qualities that endeared her to colleagues and readers across generations.
Despite the weight of her family name, Schlossberg made her own mark in journalism by curating stories grounded in science, empathy, and a deep love for the Earth.
She was both an interpreter of facts and a storyteller whose work invited readers to reflect on their place within changing environmental landscapes.
Diagnosis After Childbirth: A Sudden and Surprising Turn
In May 2024, mere hours after giving birth to her second child with her husband, George Moran, Schlossberg’s doctors noticed something unusual.
A routine blood test revealed a dramatically elevated white blood cell count, far outside the normal range, prompting immediate further evaluation.
Within days, she was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia (AML) — a fast‑moving cancer of the blood and bone marrow — with a rare genetic mutation called Inversion 3, a subtype that is diagnosed in less than 2 percent of AML patients and generally carries a poor prognosis.
The diagnosis — coming just as she celebrated the birth of her daughter — was a jarring juxtaposition of joy and fear.
In a deeply personal essay titled “A Battle With My Blood,” published in The New Yorker on November 22, 2025, Schlossberg recounted the disbelief she felt: “I did not — could not — believe that they were talking about me.”
She recalled how she had recently felt strong, active, and healthy — swimming, running, and engaging in physically demanding challenges — making the news all the more shocking.
A Brutal, Unforgiving Battle
From the outset, Schlossberg’s treatment journey was grueling and unremitting. AML is aggressive under any circumstances, but an Inversion 3 mutation greatly increased the difficulty of achieving remission. Over the course of her illness:
She underwent multiple rounds of intensive chemotherapy designed to eradicate leukemic cells.
She spent weeks hospitalized at NewYork‑Presbyterian/Columbia University Irving Medical Center for induction therapy and supportive care.
She received two bone marrow transplants — one using stem cells donated by her sister, Rose Schlossberg, and a second from an unrelated donor after the cancer rebounded or did not sufficiently respond.
She participated in clinical trials, including immunotherapy approaches, seeking to harness emerging medical research for a chance at extended survival.
Despite these heroic efforts and the emotional and physical toll they exacted, the disease proved relentless.
Treatments brought side effects that included severe fatigue, life‑threatening complications like infections while immunocompromised, and painful hospital stays.
Nonetheless, Schlossberg faced each challenge with remarkable candor and clarity, choosing to write about her experiences so that others might better understand the realities of living with terminal illness — and the ways in which even the best science sometimes struggles to keep pace with disease.
The Emotional Toll: Love, Loss, and Motherhood
Throughout her treatment, Schlossberg spoke not only about the clinical hardships but also the emotional ones, especially the heartbreak of limited physical contact with her young children due to infection risks after chemotherapy and transplants.
In her essay, she wrote poignantly about “the pain of knowing my children might not remember me,” a sorrow that many readers found deeply reflective of her devotion as a mother.
She shared that her young son, born in 2022, and her newborn daughter, arrived into a world where their mother was simultaneously celebrating their birth and confronting life‑ threatening illness.
Her reflections on motherhood — the fear, the love, the small moments she could share, and those she feared she would miss — struck a universal chord, even with readers far removed from her personal circumstance.
Support and Strength in Partnership
Throughout her illness, Schlossberg credited her husband, Dr. George Moran, with unwavering support.
Married in 2017 after meeting as undergraduates at Yale University, the couple built a partnership rooted in mutual respect and shared intellectual curiosity.
Moran, a physician and researcher himself, balanced his professional responsibilities with caregiving duties, helping to manage a life disrupted by intense medical regimens while ensuring their children experienced as much love and normalcy as possible.
Their partnership became a central theme in Schlossberg’s writing: an example of how companionship and love can make the most grueling situations “livable.”
Moran’s care and presence, she explained, were sources of strength amid uncertainty, reminding her that even in a life overtaken by illness, love was a consistent and defining force.
Public Honesty, Advocacy, and Reflection on Medical Research
Tatiana Schlossberg’s decision to reveal her illness publicly was not merely personal; it was also an act of advocacy.
In her New Yorker essay, she did not shy away from critique, including candid observations about how public policy and medical research funding affect patients facing life‑ threatening diseases like her own.
She sharply criticized policies advocated by her cousin, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., at the time serving as the U.S. Health and Human Services Secretary, asserting that cuts to research funding and vaccine policy decisions could have real negative consequences for people battling cancer and other diseases.
Her comments sparked national discussion about the connections between public health policy, scientific research support, and real‑world patient experiences.
From her public reflections, it was clear that she approached her illness not only with personal bravery but with a desire to help others understand the stakes of medical research, compassionate care, and evidence‑based policy — especially for conditions where scientific progress can mean the difference between life and death.
Passing and Legacy
Tatiana Schlossberg died peacefully on December 30, 2025, surrounded by family who loved her deeply.
She was 35 years old. Her passing was met with an outpouring of grief and respect from across the United States and around the world, with public figures, friends, colleagues, and strangers alike offering condolences and celebrating her life — not just for who she was, but for how she lived.
In announcing her death, the JFK Library Foundation wrote, “Our beautiful Tatiana passed away this morning.
She will always be in our hearts,” a sentiment that echoed the widespread mourning of a life cut short but lived with extraordinary intention and grace.
Schlossberg leaves behind:
Her husband, George Moran
Their two children — a son (born 2022) and daughter (born 2024)
Her parents, Caroline Kennedy and Edwin Schlossberg
Her siblings, Rose and Jack Schlossberg, who have also shared public tributes to her memory
Her memory will be carried not only by those she loved most but by readers, colleagues, and communities who benefited from her writing, advocacy, and courage.
Remembering Tatiana Schlossberg
Tatiana Schlossberg’s life was shaped by profound curiosity, compassionate insight, and a dedication to meaningful work.
She was a voice for environmental awareness, a chronicler of urgent issues facing our planet, and an articulate communicator who used her platform to bridge facts with humanity.
Her final chapter, defined by an unflinching confrontation with mortality, reminded the world of many truths:
That vulnerability can be a source of strength.
That honesty in the face of adversity can inspire others.
And that even in the most difficult moments, love — for family, for life, and for the world — can endure as a guiding light.
Tatiana’s legacy is not defined solely by the illness that took her life, nor by the grief her passing inspires, but by the courage with which she lived — and wrote — all the way through to her last days.
