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| That's me! |
I had the honor of speaking at the incoming medical students' White Coat Ceremony on Friday. I spent a week preparing for it! Below is the speech I gave.
You have worked so hard for so long to sit in these seats and be initiated into the medical profession. I know, just a year ago – a year ago down to the hour, actually – I was sitting in the aisle seat in the back row there [points]. So let me say, because I still feel the same swelling feeling of accomplishment: Congratulations – you did it!
Today is your day to soak up attention, to have everyone admire you in your coat, and to ham it up for the camera… enjoy every moment of it. Today is your day in that white coat. Wear it with pride. Say, “Yeah, I’m going to be a doctor!” Make sure you get a photo in front of the school sign above the entrance to this auditorium. Most importantly, of course, go home tonight and change your Facebook profile photo to one of the ones that you took today. [laughs]
The reason I want you to enjoy today so much is because it is the last time that you will put on that white coat for reasons of self-admiration. From today onward, every time you place your arms into it and lift it over your shoulders, you will be sending a signal to the world that you have dedicated your life to medicine.
This white coat is a powerful symbol. It is short to indicate the years of knowledge that you have to gain before earning a longer coat. It has huge pockets to fill with your tools for gaining knowledge. It, too, is a divisive symbol that often splits patients into two camps: those who would do anything you say while you’re wearing it and those who feel it is a barrier or a cause for disdain. Either way, you are there to serve your patients. Our profession exists because people have faith in our ways as healers. Putting on that white coat is a reminder that decisions you make are not selfish, that you’re setting an example for your patients, and that fellow healthcare practitioners are judging your knowledge and work. You put it on because you like your work and because you love your patients.
From today onward that competitive premed attitude won’t cut it. Before this week, you all had the same goal – to get into medical school – which pretty much requires the same set of classes and the same application process for each of you. Now, we still have the same goal – to become a good doctor – but our definitions of good are different. For some, you want to focus on primary care and do well at it. For others, it’s about pulling off a difficult laparoscopic surgery or about finding a way to teach a challenging topic. We are going to take different approaches to our medical career and can only benefit from learning from our peers. One amazing thing I noticed when starting school is just how collaborative and supportive my classmates are. We’re here to commit the foundations of medicine to long-term memory and oftentimes a mnemonic or joke you create with a classmate is just the trick to remember something. Honestly, cracking dirty jokes in histology lab about the difference between Pacinian and Meissner’s corpuscles – fancy names for two different types of nerve endings in the skin that sense vibration and pressure – is how I still differentiate the two. In addition to learning, your classmates are often your cheerleaders and fellow commiserators. Who knows what you’re going through better than someone doing it alongside you? Reach out, make friends, and make connections because we are future colleagues.
Up until now you have spent your schooling in lectures and labs. From today onward there still will be a lot of lectures but it will feel much different. We used to learn in order to get good grades so that we can put an “A” on an application. Now we’re learning with a much more pragmatic, yet more serious goal in mind, this goal being to build a foundation of knowledge that will change peoples’ lives. Even though there’s significantly more gravity and hard work to our medical education, I do think it’s a lot more fun. Once you have that white coat on your patients will take for granted that you know everything you need to know. What they are looking for is confidentiality, honesty, empathy, and touch. This makes learning medicine twice as demanding because you have to learn how to think critically while presenting yourself as a dignified doctor.
Wearing that white coat not only means that you will care for others, but that you must maintain yourself. From now on you need to be hyper-aware of your own needs and make sure you take care of them. For fear of being forgotten, I implore you to maintain relationships with old friends and relatives. As much as you’d like to hit some sort of pause button on the rest of the world, life for other people continues even though you’re in medical school. It’s up to you to keep up with everyone important to you. I spent last fall telling my parents and sister that “I’m too busy” to talk – next thing you know, I went three months without having had a quality conversation with any of them. My best friend gave up and said in exasperation, “I’m having such a hard time figuring out when you’re not in the library that you should just be the one to call me.” That’s okay, though, because my best friend means the world to me and spending the next four years without talking to her is my kind of hell. Whether it’s five minutes a day everyday or, like me, an hour every weekend, make sure to remain active and engaged in your loved ones’ lives.
From today onward, dear parents and family members, please be as understanding as possible when your son, daughter, spouse… however the student is related to you… is stressed. My own dad is so understanding that at dinner after my white coat ceremony last year he had a serious talk with me. I know that his talks are serious when he puts one arm over my shoulders and talks to me from the side. So with an arm draped over me and a serious-looking sidelong gaze he said, “Kimberly, I’m not expecting any grandkids from you.” [laughs] While my dad is exercising a superlative amount of understanding, I’m just asking you, on behalf of these new medical students, to understand that things will get better the minute an exam is over. And home cooked meals are always – let me repeat, always – welcome.
Speaking of being stressed, your white coat does one more thing. I assure you that at some point you’ll get caught up in the minutia of daily learning and lose sight of the bigger picture. Don’t worry, we all do it. You’re going to put that coat on, look at yourself in the mirror, and remember why you’re here.
So on that note: on behalf of the class of 2016, the current second year students, I warmly welcome you to our medical school community.
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Copyright 2013, all rights reserved. All materials appearing on kimburfiend.blogspot.com may not be reproduced without prior written permission of the publisher and may in no case be for profit.
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Wow. What a great day it is. It seems like everyone that I know has been wearing these special-edition polyester coats with big pockets recently – and now you too have that coveted white coat in your wardrobe. [laughs]You have worked so hard for so long to sit in these seats and be initiated into the medical profession. I know, just a year ago – a year ago down to the hour, actually – I was sitting in the aisle seat in the back row there [points]. So let me say, because I still feel the same swelling feeling of accomplishment: Congratulations – you did it!
Today is your day to soak up attention, to have everyone admire you in your coat, and to ham it up for the camera… enjoy every moment of it. Today is your day in that white coat. Wear it with pride. Say, “Yeah, I’m going to be a doctor!” Make sure you get a photo in front of the school sign above the entrance to this auditorium. Most importantly, of course, go home tonight and change your Facebook profile photo to one of the ones that you took today. [laughs]
The reason I want you to enjoy today so much is because it is the last time that you will put on that white coat for reasons of self-admiration. From today onward, every time you place your arms into it and lift it over your shoulders, you will be sending a signal to the world that you have dedicated your life to medicine.
This white coat is a powerful symbol. It is short to indicate the years of knowledge that you have to gain before earning a longer coat. It has huge pockets to fill with your tools for gaining knowledge. It, too, is a divisive symbol that often splits patients into two camps: those who would do anything you say while you’re wearing it and those who feel it is a barrier or a cause for disdain. Either way, you are there to serve your patients. Our profession exists because people have faith in our ways as healers. Putting on that white coat is a reminder that decisions you make are not selfish, that you’re setting an example for your patients, and that fellow healthcare practitioners are judging your knowledge and work. You put it on because you like your work and because you love your patients.
From today onward that competitive premed attitude won’t cut it. Before this week, you all had the same goal – to get into medical school – which pretty much requires the same set of classes and the same application process for each of you. Now, we still have the same goal – to become a good doctor – but our definitions of good are different. For some, you want to focus on primary care and do well at it. For others, it’s about pulling off a difficult laparoscopic surgery or about finding a way to teach a challenging topic. We are going to take different approaches to our medical career and can only benefit from learning from our peers. One amazing thing I noticed when starting school is just how collaborative and supportive my classmates are. We’re here to commit the foundations of medicine to long-term memory and oftentimes a mnemonic or joke you create with a classmate is just the trick to remember something. Honestly, cracking dirty jokes in histology lab about the difference between Pacinian and Meissner’s corpuscles – fancy names for two different types of nerve endings in the skin that sense vibration and pressure – is how I still differentiate the two. In addition to learning, your classmates are often your cheerleaders and fellow commiserators. Who knows what you’re going through better than someone doing it alongside you? Reach out, make friends, and make connections because we are future colleagues.
Up until now you have spent your schooling in lectures and labs. From today onward there still will be a lot of lectures but it will feel much different. We used to learn in order to get good grades so that we can put an “A” on an application. Now we’re learning with a much more pragmatic, yet more serious goal in mind, this goal being to build a foundation of knowledge that will change peoples’ lives. Even though there’s significantly more gravity and hard work to our medical education, I do think it’s a lot more fun. Once you have that white coat on your patients will take for granted that you know everything you need to know. What they are looking for is confidentiality, honesty, empathy, and touch. This makes learning medicine twice as demanding because you have to learn how to think critically while presenting yourself as a dignified doctor.
Wearing that white coat not only means that you will care for others, but that you must maintain yourself. From now on you need to be hyper-aware of your own needs and make sure you take care of them. For fear of being forgotten, I implore you to maintain relationships with old friends and relatives. As much as you’d like to hit some sort of pause button on the rest of the world, life for other people continues even though you’re in medical school. It’s up to you to keep up with everyone important to you. I spent last fall telling my parents and sister that “I’m too busy” to talk – next thing you know, I went three months without having had a quality conversation with any of them. My best friend gave up and said in exasperation, “I’m having such a hard time figuring out when you’re not in the library that you should just be the one to call me.” That’s okay, though, because my best friend means the world to me and spending the next four years without talking to her is my kind of hell. Whether it’s five minutes a day everyday or, like me, an hour every weekend, make sure to remain active and engaged in your loved ones’ lives.
From today onward, dear parents and family members, please be as understanding as possible when your son, daughter, spouse… however the student is related to you… is stressed. My own dad is so understanding that at dinner after my white coat ceremony last year he had a serious talk with me. I know that his talks are serious when he puts one arm over my shoulders and talks to me from the side. So with an arm draped over me and a serious-looking sidelong gaze he said, “Kimberly, I’m not expecting any grandkids from you.” [laughs] While my dad is exercising a superlative amount of understanding, I’m just asking you, on behalf of these new medical students, to understand that things will get better the minute an exam is over. And home cooked meals are always – let me repeat, always – welcome.
Speaking of being stressed, your white coat does one more thing. I assure you that at some point you’ll get caught up in the minutia of daily learning and lose sight of the bigger picture. Don’t worry, we all do it. You’re going to put that coat on, look at yourself in the mirror, and remember why you’re here.
So on that note: on behalf of the class of 2016, the current second year students, I warmly welcome you to our medical school community.
----------
Copyright 2013, all rights reserved. All materials appearing on kimburfiend.blogspot.com may not be reproduced without prior written permission of the publisher and may in no case be for profit.
Kim, that's wonderful! Loved your speech. You've always been so inspiring :) xx
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