Doing Four Years

So, I’ve thought about writing this piece ever since my first non-Von Bulow mentor encouraged me to pitch content to local rags almost 30-years ago.

And please don’t be concerned; 46-years of Dentistry haven’t taken a toll on my back or any of my appendages or even the extra-large melon resting atop my shoulders.

I’m way overdue to come clean on my dental school experience, but I haven’t lost perspective. When I was a high school kid, my early career choices narrowed down to Medicine and Dentistry. After reading Making of a Surgeon, Surgeon’s World, and Surgeon Under the Knife, Dentistry became an easy choice. By making it into dental school, my 2-S draft deferment kept me out of the Vietnam war (my draft lottery number was 18.) Two of my high school classmates, neither of whom would’ve hurt a fly, weren’t so fortunate. Years ago, on a trip back to Washington D.C. and an advisor conference, I traced Victor and Xavier’s names off the Vietnam War Memorial. There are worse things than dental school.

I think the trigger for this essay happened last week. I sold my dental practice back in May 2022, and I’ve stayed on to help with the transition to the new owner. It’s a sweet opportunity (but slightly bitter), I get to come and go as I please and contribute most of 2-days per week. But being mostly a bystander within the variety of walls you knew as home away from home, sometimes isn’t as easy as it sounds.

Last week, my Team Leader and friend of over 20-years was leading a meeting reviewing the takeaways of our experience at the Annual Crown Council Event. The Event is always an amazing experience. The Crown Council organization’s purpose is all about community, developing vital cultures, and doing good. It was like one moment (in 1998) I was riding down to La Jolla with two team members for our first Annual Event, and the next thing you know, I was writing for the local Chamber and the Pasadena Weekly, raising thousands of dollars for St. Jude Children’s Hospital, and becoming a Board member for various Pasadena non-profits. The first non-profit organization was Pasadena’s Haven House, it was also the first shelter for victims of domestic violence founded in the U.S.

And it’s amazing how a team doing good by helping others can raise itself to new emotional heights in the process.

During the meeting, I shared about my dental school experience and how the Dental Boot Kamp program had saved my career. I shared about the single USC dental school instructor, Dr. Jack Seymour from Fresno and a Gold Foil Study Club regular, who had put a hand on my shoulder, helped me, complimented my work, and offered encouragement during my four years of training. My parents sacrificed for my education, and it seemed only one faculty member from out of town cared enough to take an interest. And, fifty years later, I was freakin’ being emotional in front of people…in what used to be my own office.

When I share my dental school story with the Impactful Internship high school kids I love mentoring, I include all my mistakes (magically becoming teaching opportunities.) For dental school, I was onstage but wasn’t a player. The imbalance of power during the four years was real, as were the structure of the times and the resulting distorted culture. The role I chose was embarrassingly weak; it was me, playing the victim.

I started my undergrad college career with a robust 2.13 GPA (and the persistent little voice in the back of my head hasn’t forgotten.) I had a talk with my dad, who promised 100% support of my dream if I returned 100% effort. For the next three years at Cal State University LA, I worked nights full-time in a warehouse and aced every class that stood in the way of my goal. I was accepted into all five dental schools to which I applied. I was never more focused. My confidence was over-the-top, probably (no, obviously) bordering on obnoxious.

My big brother and best friend, Jay, passed away during the application process. Attending USC would keep me close to home. At the time, USC’s School of Dentistry retained a reputation with few peers. Instead of buying a new home, my parents invested in me. When I met the Dean of Admissions for my informal interview, he disrespected my dad’s career as a labor union business representative as good “in its day.” I asked for the Dean’s opinion of slavery. We were off to the races. Fight on.

I’d been a USC Football fanatic from the first time I saw the big white horse. And my brother had me geared up in Cardinal and Gold from the time I could stand, unassisted. Guess how many football games I attended as a D-student? That would be zero.

So, the model for dental school might’ve been the marine corps, but being broken down for whatever purpose by little men with white belts and white shoes was like having your future held in the hands of clowns who couldn’t juggle. Toughness was expressed as humiliation handed out by communication Neanderthals. I was listening to instruction but hearing how undeserving of it I was. I had classic imposter syndrome before the dang condition had even been discovered.

By the time I’d done my four years I couldn’t have been more disappointed and frustrated…in myself. I called my Doctor of Dental Surgery degree and my escape from USC as “The Miracle on 34th Street.” I didn’t begin re-discovering the person I was before dental school until I was 20-years into private practice.

I was on the verge of leaving Dentistry and carrying all the guilt of my parents’ sacrifice and my having denied them the simple pleasure of watching their son “walk” and receive his professional degree in full cap and gown.

But finding my own mentor and listening to his challenges, stories, and lessons opened a new world. And paying attention to the people within Walter Hailey’s circle opened the world even more. Musician/composer Frank Vincent Zappa once shared, “A mind is like a parachute, it doesn’t work if it’s not open.” Imagine what it’s like walking around with your head trapped in a box full of guilt, disappointment, and regret- not exactly a sunny day and epic waves at Huntington Beach.

I’ve written letters to my parents and brother that will never be answered. I didn’t even realize I’d been compensating for my mistakes by making everyone else wrong while being committed to always having the last word. And it’s kind of ironic how reviewing your own curriculum vitae can transform impatience into understanding and self into community.

After 46-years, past-USC President Steven Sample, Dental School Dean Harold “Hal” Slavkin, Coach Pete Carroll, and all the visionaries connecting smiling with teaching, learning, and the community, have proved a collaboration of humanity can be the cure for nightmares.

I can see the transformation in Ashley, who was referred to us by her uncle, awesome Pediatric Dentist Dr. Eddie So. Ashley shadowed in our office one summer: she’s now in the Orthodontics program at USC. I see Ashley on Instagram and used to be frustrated by her always disarming smile. But now I get it; things have changed.

In about two weeks, my visits to my former home away from home will become rare. But I’ll still be working to become a better listener and a more understanding mentor.

Fight on.