“So, why are you doing this?”
It’s the usual question, combined with a skeptical look. I’m researching perceived barriers to career advancement for female academic surgeons. I’m curious, I tell them. And why shouldn’t I be? I’m going to be an academic surgeon myself. Shouldn’t I better understand the system of which I’m a part?
The problem is I’m a white man – a white man of the worse kind: educated and privileged. I’m the establishment, the status quo.
We dominate academic surgery. Surgical leadership is depressingly homogeneous. One thing I’ve learned from my time at the Kennedy School is leveraging diversity is crucial to innovation and progress in business and public policy. So in what ways am I, a white, male surgeon, going to hold surgery back? It's cause for introspection, and a question I hope to answer.
If we are going to improve the system, we must understand it first. This starts with becoming aware of the dynamics within our systems. Ask yourself, "What does my own profession look like?" There is difference everywhere. But do we see it?
Jennifer Boylan examines this beautifully in her recent New York Times piece, One Classroom, Two Genders. Boylan has the unique experience of being a college professor as both a man and a woman. For the first 12 years of her career, she was a man; for the past 13 years, she has taught as a transgender woman. She notes how her students now perceive and interact with her differently. They ascribe traditional gender traits to her; she is “safe,” inviting, and able to share feelings.
Boylan begins her piece by discussing her favorite teacher in high school, an experience we all share. She wonders if her relationship with him might have been changed in a different gender dynamic. She comes to no conclusions, but asks us to think more critically about who we are in a system. She asks us to “see” difference.
So why do I do this? I just want to be more aware. Being curious is my small way of moving surgery forward.
It’s the usual question, combined with a skeptical look. I’m researching perceived barriers to career advancement for female academic surgeons. I’m curious, I tell them. And why shouldn’t I be? I’m going to be an academic surgeon myself. Shouldn’t I better understand the system of which I’m a part?
The problem is I’m a white man – a white man of the worse kind: educated and privileged. I’m the establishment, the status quo.
We dominate academic surgery. Surgical leadership is depressingly homogeneous. One thing I’ve learned from my time at the Kennedy School is leveraging diversity is crucial to innovation and progress in business and public policy. So in what ways am I, a white, male surgeon, going to hold surgery back? It's cause for introspection, and a question I hope to answer.
If we are going to improve the system, we must understand it first. This starts with becoming aware of the dynamics within our systems. Ask yourself, "What does my own profession look like?" There is difference everywhere. But do we see it?
Jennifer Boylan examines this beautifully in her recent New York Times piece, One Classroom, Two Genders. Boylan has the unique experience of being a college professor as both a man and a woman. For the first 12 years of her career, she was a man; for the past 13 years, she has taught as a transgender woman. She notes how her students now perceive and interact with her differently. They ascribe traditional gender traits to her; she is “safe,” inviting, and able to share feelings.
Boylan begins her piece by discussing her favorite teacher in high school, an experience we all share. She wonders if her relationship with him might have been changed in a different gender dynamic. She comes to no conclusions, but asks us to think more critically about who we are in a system. She asks us to “see” difference.
So why do I do this? I just want to be more aware. Being curious is my small way of moving surgery forward.

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