“The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires.” —William Arthur Ward
Kathryn Fraser, PhD
I honestly never imagined how rewarding it would be to help others who are starting out on their path as behavioral medicine faculty. In my own experience as a new behavioral science faculty member, I was sometimes ignored, criticized, and questioned straight to my face about my knowledge and my credibility. Fortunately, a series of very supportive program directors and fellow faculty helped me through some tough times and helped me find my voice. I often imagined what it might be like for new behavioral scientists who felt less than supported in their jobs.
My experience being a small-group mentor in the Behavioral Science/Family Systems Educator Fellowship (BFEF) was truly magical. My co-mentor and I were both focused on fostering an environment of growth and encouragement—we wanted to help the fellows to spread their wings and also feel well grounded in this unique field. Advising the fellows on teaching activities was only a small part of what we did. The bigger tasks were teaching them about self-care, helping them develop a strong professional identity as behavioral faculty, and helping them set professional boundaries. It is easy to feel like you are on the periphery since behavioral science is often considered by residents to be a small part of what they really need to learn. We try to help the fellows understand that their contributions are crucial to one of the cornerstones of family medicine—the physician-patient relationship.
The mentoring we received from the leaders of the BFEF was phenomenal. At planning meetings I felt like I was part of a think tank helping to pave the way for the future of behavioral science. This group helped bring out the best in me as a teacher and a mentor. Their support, warmth, and kindness made them excellent role models for the small-group mentors as we attempted to provide a safe, effective growing space for our up and coming fellows.
This is the third in a series of collaborative blog posts between the Collaborative Family Healthcare Association and the Society of Teachers of Family Medicine.
Molly Clark, PhD
I believe that although behavioral science faculty can have years of training, experience, and add to the improvement of our patients, we continue to have an uphill battle in proving our value within medical settings. As I recruit people to our program, I make the statement that family medicine is like working with family for me and feels as comfortable as home. I am fortunate to work with some of the best people I know personally and professionally. In addition, I have met some great people from around the United States who work in family medicine and share similar attributes as my colleagues. However, my experiences have not always been happy and easy.
Although I came into a program with prior experience within family medicine and there had been an established behavioral medicine program, I was faced with the challenge of having to prove my expertise and value to our residents. My strategy was to set boundaries and stick with them at all costs. In my first year, I received evaluations from the residents that ranged from “She is extremely helpful” to “She is not welcome here.” In my second year, I was met with slightly more challenges. While providing feedback during resident check outs, some residents would sit so that I was completely to their backs as they presented a case. My evaluations included comments such as, “You’re not a real doctor” or “You’re not welcome in the physician lounge because you are not a physician…in fact you should not be considered faculty.” While those are not pleasant experiences, I think one of the worst experiences was when I sat down for lunch in the physician lounge, and residents either left or the ones coming in sat in a different area. There were times I would go to my office, sit down, and feel completely ineffective. I hate to admit it, but there were times I cried. All the while, my physician faculty stood beside me, supported me, and told me that this would get better. They asked for my input, consulted me when the residents would not, and gave me more responsibilities.
In subsequent years, things began to change. I started to receive pages from residents and curbside consults to ask me my thoughts about their patients. I was even asked by a resident if they could do a rotation with me. My evaluations began to include comments of “Excellent,” “Extremely helpful,” and “Wished I could see her more in clinic, but I know she has other duties.” In one of my more recent experiences, a resident asked me what they should do for a patient’s joint pain. When I responded that I was a psychologist and not a physician, the resident laughed and said “Oh, yeah, I forgot.” I’ve grown to have relationships at the medical center across physician specialties and seemingly have a positive reputation. So, as I am feeling confident that I have overcome bias and have proven my worth as a member of the interdisciplinary team, I walk proudly to another medicine department to give a lecture on physician wellness. As I am completing the lecture, I recognize an old familiar feeling, stare into the audience, and realize that I might as well be promoting the sell of snake oil as a cure for various medical ailments. I sigh and go back to the Department of Family Medicine, where I feel at home and am satisfied with my accomplishments. I’ll leave the job of establishing the value of interdisciplinary care in that discipline to another individual and hope they will one day be as valued there as I am in family medicine.