“So,” I was asked by a friend of a friend at a recent
barbeque, “ do you actually LIKE administrating?” It sounded to me like ‘ do you actually like to
clean toilets?’ or worse. It is not an
uncommon response. People find out I’m a doctor and then ask what kind of
doctor or where I practice and I say, “oh, I hardly see patients anymore, I’m
an administrator.” Then, the look—the slight social distancing. In my head, I hear them label me “not – a –
real – doctor.” When I speak with
patients these days, it’s mostly because they are complaining about a doctor or
spewing forth their vitriol about a process that doesn't work for them in the hospital. Does being on the receiving end of that sound
fun to you?
What do I do all day? Even into the night? Why is it
okay with me?
I like to think I make it easier for other doctors to get
their work done.
I help them get through the very wide red tape of the
government system.
I help keep them out of jail by helping them abide by the
endless list of regulatory matters it takes to run a hospital.
I advocate that they get resources they need to take care of
patients.
I referee personnel issues that get in the way of taking
care of patients.
I create rewards/incentives/context for doing the best job
possible.
I read articles on why physicians make bad leaders.
I investigate.
I coach.
I teach.
I learn.
I share.
I care.
I communicate.
I collaborate.
It’s a public health kind of mission. If I can put a process
in place where many
patients access excellent, safe, respectful, quality care, I don’t help
just one patient. I help lots of patients. And yes, I enjoy that.
My story made Judd remember a story he appreciates as a middle school teacher :
The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life. One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with education.
He argued: "What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?"
He reminded the other dinner guests that it's true what they say about teachers: "Those who can...do. Those who can't...teach."
To corroborate, he said to another guest: "You're a teacher, Susan," he said. "Be honest. What do you make?"
Susan, who had a reputation of honesty and frankness, replied, "You want to know what I make?"
He argued: "What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?"
He reminded the other dinner guests that it's true what they say about teachers: "Those who can...do. Those who can't...teach."
To corroborate, he said to another guest: "You're a teacher, Susan," he said. "Be honest. What do you make?"
Susan, who had a reputation of honesty and frankness, replied, "You want to know what I make?"
"I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could."
“I make kids believe in themselves when no one else will.”
"I make a C+ feel like a Congressional Medal of Honor and an A- feel like a slap in the face if the student did not do his or her very best."
"I make parents tremble in fear when I call home"
"You want to know what I make?
"I make kids wonder."
"I make them question."
"I make them criticize."
"I make them apologize and mean it."
"I make them write."
"I make them read, read, read."
"I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, and definitely beautiful over and over and over again, until they will never misspell either one of those words again."
"I make them show all their work in math and hide it all on their final drafts in English."
"I make them understand that if you have a dream, then follow it...and if someone ever tries to judge you by what you make or what you do, you pay them no attention."
"You want to know what I make?!"
"I make a difference."
"What about you?"
“I make kids believe in themselves when no one else will.”
"I make a C+ feel like a Congressional Medal of Honor and an A- feel like a slap in the face if the student did not do his or her very best."
"I make parents tremble in fear when I call home"
"You want to know what I make?
"I make kids wonder."
"I make them question."
"I make them criticize."
"I make them apologize and mean it."
"I make them write."
"I make them read, read, read."
"I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, and definitely beautiful over and over and over again, until they will never misspell either one of those words again."
"I make them show all their work in math and hide it all on their final drafts in English."
"I make them understand that if you have a dream, then follow it...and if someone ever tries to judge you by what you make or what you do, you pay them no attention."
"You want to know what I make?!"
"I make a difference."
"What about you?"
affirmative.
ReplyDeletewhere would we be if some of the best practitioners didn't go into leadership?