Dr. Laurie Glimcher addresses the Class of 2013 during commencement May 30 at Carnegie Hall. Photo credit: Amelia Panico
Dr. Laurie H. Glimcher, the Stephen and Suzanne Weiss Dean of Weill Cornell Medical College, gave the following address to the Weill Cornell Medical College Class of 2013 during commencement May 30 at Carnegie Hall.
Thank you, President [David] Skorton and good afternoon.
I am thrilled to be with you here today. I'd like to welcome all of you and to offer thanks to our wonderful Weill Cornell faculty who have done such a splendid job of preparing these young physicians and scientists for the careers ahead of them. And thanks to the staff for everything they have done to make this such a special day for all of us.
And to the new physicians who are just embarking on their careers today: you have worked so hard and made so many sacrifices to have earned your place here. As graduates of Weill Cornell, you are exceptionally well prepared to take on whatever the future holds. With the support of your families and friends, you have done what few people in the world can do. It wasn't easy. And not everyone could have done it. But you did. And for that, you should be very proud. I congratulate you.
As you go forth today, you will find that medicine is a journey of discovery. It changes every day. It may take you in directions you never expected to go.
As a physician and scientist, the daughter of a physician, and the mother of a physician, I have a pretty good perspective on how quickly the field of medicine can change over a lifetime. But now, with technology increasingly integrated in everything we do, change is happening at an extremely accelerated pace. Some experts suggest that the 21st century will bring about the equivalent of 20,000 years of progress if we continue at today's rate.
As medicine changes, you are the next generation of discoverers. It is your role — indeed your obligation — to seek new ways of doing things, to innovate, and to discover. You are the future of global medicine.
But I think you're even more than that. I think you might just be the future, period. If change is coming as fast as they say it is, we need leaders in all fields of endeavor who have qualities beyond the ordinary.
Perhaps other than the military, there isn't really any formal training program for leaders in general. No program teaches the things that, as David Skorton pointed out in a recent talk, are taught to all medical students: First, the ability to listen before thinking or speaking. Second, the ability to make decisions on the basis of imperfect or limited evidence. Third, the self-awareness and confidence to ask for help when needed (and to know what the right kind of help is). And finally, the ability to get to the heart of the matter quickly while ignoring distractions.
In other words, your medical training didn't just prepare you to practice medicine. It is, as President Skorton and I believe, the best possible training for leadership in general. In fact, I would go so far as to say that the two things that every physician comes to understand about human nature, namely, that people are both incredibly resilient and incredibly fragile, are likely to produce leaders who are both demanding and understanding.
And don't think I've forgotten our graduate students. The things they learn — the importance of data and what it means, how not to be fooled by circumstance and happenstance, the capacity for thinking critically, and the capability to design and carry out studies that are imaginative, that attack important problems, and that are controlled and to the point — these are the characteristics of innovators, of people who drive the future forward.
It's a thrilling time to be starting your careers. Who knows what cures, what breakthroughs, what revolutions in treatment lie just around the corner?
Returning to our medical students, if I could leave you with just one message today, it would be this: Keep the patient at the center of everything you do.
This commitment to the patient will be your compass, your guide, and your reference point, as medicine evolves, becomes more complex, more technology-driven, and more demanding. It will help anchor you during difficult times.
This commitment will focus your efforts, accelerate your work, and serve as a beacon if you find yourself off track — no matter what track you pursue. And because there is no roadmap to the future, a beacon is a very good thing to have.
In thinking about the future, I'd like to share with you an anecdote that comes from the history of our institution. In 1913 a woman named Connie Guion entered Cornell Medical College. She graduated first in her class in 1917 and went on to spend most of her career at Cornell. In 1946 she became one of the first women in the United States to be appointed a Professor of Clinical Medicine. And in 1963 a building at our medical center was named after her, the first ever dedicated to a living woman doctor.
When Connie was still just a medical student, she remembers being very impressed with one of her professors, Dr. Lewis Conner, a renowned cardiologist who went on to found the American Heart Association. According to Connie's biography, Dr. Conner never let his students use a stethoscope. He would tell them, "While you're studying under me, you will listen to the heart with the naked ear only... Think of the sounds that come from the friction of the stethoscope on the hair of the chest! Think of the way sound changes as it travels through fifteen inches of rubber tubing to your ear! Too risky! The only answer is to place your ear directly over your patient's heart and listen."
I don't know if Connie Guion took this advice literally every time she examined a patient. But I do know that Dr. Conner's words still ring true one hundred years after he spoke them.
Technology — whether a stethoscope or a DNA sequencer — is a tool. It can be a great and useful tool, to be sure. Use technology, leverage it, make it work for you. But don't become a slave to it. And don't let it get in between you and your patients. The most powerful medical instruments you will ever use are your own eyes and ears.
Technology can give you a lot of information, but don't forget to let the patient and their condition speak to you directly. And also remember to listen to what they tell you.
One of our students in New York made this point very eloquently when she spoke at a memorial service that we hold for individuals who donate their bodies to the study of human anatomy. She described all the things she had learned from the donor she studied, saying: "You taught me that the body is mechanical. A system of tubing and wiring, valves and pumps... My lab partners and I have seen more of you than anyone, more of you than ourselves."
But this student realized that despite the intimate knowledge she gained in class, she actually knew nothing about the person who once animated that body: "You taught me never to forget that anatomy is just the pieces and parts and not the substance of a person. When I make my first incision or ligate my first vessel, I'll think of you and the passions, fears, and beliefs that I could never ask you about. And because of you, I will remember to ask."
Always keep the patient at the center of everything you do. Remember that as physicians, we treat the whole person, not just the outward signs of their diseases.
I'd like to leave you today with an Arabic proverb as you go forth in your careers; earlier this month I also left the graduating class at WCMC-Qatar with these words. The proverb says: He who has health, has hope. And he who has hope, has everything.
Mun yatamatta be seha jayeda yamlok al amal, wa mun ladih al amal yamlok kol shaie fi al hayah
It's a reminder that in acting as agents of good health, you also act as agents of hope. Remember, when Pandora's box was opened, and all the afflictions of the world, including illness, were loosed on mankind, the one thing that saved humanity was hope.
Congratulations again. We are so proud of your accomplishments. I wish you much success and I look forward to talking with you after the ceremony. Tell me about your hopes and dreams, because you are the future, and your voyage of discovery begins today.
Thank you.