SO NOW YOU'RE A FELLOW...

I attended Ohio State's autumn quarter graduation ceremony last weekend. To my right sat a graduate's sister holding a bouquet of starched dollar bills and dried red roses. To my left, a faculty member proofread a document in Greek while the 2,330 graduates received their diplomas. I had the privilege of hooding 2011 Academy fellow, Padmapriya Ramamoorthy, as she received her PhD, having been advised by Jason Nichols, the 2011 Borish Award winner.

It occurred to me that Priya has reached a significant milestone in her career. So did all the new Academy Fellows inducted in Boston. Is that the end of their careers, though? Of course not. How many of you have reached some long-sought, hard-fought goal and concluded that you were done? How many of you received your Doctor of Optometry degree and thought, "Gee, this is great. I'm glad I don't ever have to work hard again." How many of the scientists among you receive an official Federal Notice of Grant Award and conclude, "Whew! I'm thankful that effort is over and done with." The answer? None. Not one. No one. In fact, achievement of those milestones is when the really hard, really rewarding work begins.

New, recent, and to-date-inactive Fellows, you should not feel as if your Academy activity ended with the granting of your FAAO. In fact, it's only beginning. Mark your calendars now for all our Academy meetings that are already booked (through 2018). Start to pursue Diplomate status in the Section of your choice. Join a Special Interest Group. (Currently, Special Interest Groups, Vision in Aging, Fellows Doing Research, Ocular Nutrition, Anterior Segment, and Glaucoma are on the books.) Start a new Special Interest Group with 25 of your soon-to-be best friends. Submit a lecture, workshop, or scientific abstract for 2012 in Phoenix. Nominate people for the 2012 Awards.

In short, Fellows, don't rest on your laurels. Stake your claim. Get involved. Make your mark. Do something great. Our—your—Academy will only be the better for it.

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TAKIN' CARE OF BUSINESS

"Meetings are difficult." "Meetings are problematic." "Meetings are inspirational." "Meetings are idea generating." "Really good meetings are like conversations." "Apple® employees meet all day long." "I liked one place I worked because I never had to attend any meetings." "Meetings recharge my batteries." Perhaps you've all thought, said, or heard every one of those things at one time or another as you head to a staff meeting in your practice or a faculty meeting or a committee or board meeting in your community or at your university. I would go so far as to say that the Business Meetings at the American Academy of Optometry Annual Meetings are rarely a high point. They are typically attended by the Academy "faithful" who only truly engage in the Business Meeting when there's a contested election or when the attendees think the Board of Directors has done something wrong.

If you were in Boston last month, the Business Meeting was something altogether different. First, it was attended by about 250 students. I can hear you saying "Whaaaat? Students at the Business Meeting?" It turned out that Business Meeting attendance was on the menu of the new Student Fellowship Program, conceived by Jeff Walline and his Student-Faculty Liaison Committee. The students filed in dutifully, and Academy staff kept moving the "Fellows Only in Front of Here" sign closer to the front of the room to accommodate their increasing numbers. The Fellows sat close together, marveling at the energy level in the room. At one point, an entire row of Fellows had to be moved forward to let students have their seats. That row was anchored by Fellow Al Rosenbloom, who was pretty comfortable where he was sitting, and moving him didn't sound like a great idea. A student from the University of Waterloo ended up sitting next to Dr. Rosenbloom, and last I saw before heading to the podium for my President's remarks, they were chatting like long-lost high school friends, with cameras flashing like it was the red carpet.

The Fellows mirrored the students' energy level by opening the meeting with a standing ovation directed at the students, for representing our Academy and our profession's future. I like to think that Executive Director and Fellow Lois Schoenbrun and I rose to the occasion, and that our usual positive comments were almost bubbly. Even the Secretary-Treasurer's report was fascinating!

Later that evening, I attended a student social mixer held (and sponsored, to the tune of many thousands of dollars raised) off-site by the New England College of Optometry students, clearly demonstrating that they attend THE school in Massachusetts. One enthusiastic young woman came up to me and told me how much she'd liked the Business Meeting. "You did?" I asked. "You're not just saying that?" "No," she responded. "It was obvious how much you all love the Academy and optometry. I love optometry!" Another told me it reminded her of her sorority's business meetings during undergrad where everyone loved the organization they were serving and the causes they discussed at their business meetings.

Next time you attend a meeting and when you attend the next Academy Annual Meeting in Phoenix in 2012, including the now-legendary Business Meeting, consider what you yourself bring to the meeting table. Lethargy, inattention, your smart phone, and distraction? Or energy, enthusiasm, attention, and a sense that you're thrilled to be there? Either way, you choose, and you influence the future.

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BE THERE OR BE SQUARE

Anticipation is at least half the fun. Right now, we’re anticipating our Academy’s Annual Meeting in Boston, October 11-15. You’re putting the finishing touches on your lecture or talk, picking up your poster from the printer, choosing your dress and shoes for the banquet, or finalizing your schedule. But, how will you hold up once you’re there? How long will you stay, especially on Saturday, the last day of the meeting?

To provide perspective: everybody knows about Woodstock. It was one of the first and one of the largest outdoor rock festivals, held on Yasgur’s Farm in upstate New York in August 1969. It was before the Internet, Facebook, or Twitter, yet roughly half a million people headed there, undoubtedly with eager anticipation. The last act on the last day was guitarist Jimi Hendrix. His performance is legendary and included his iconic version of The Star-Spangled Banner and Purple Haze. Too bad for the many who left early; only about 80,000 people were still there for his performance. (Admittedly it was nine hours after his scheduled midnight appearance.)

Our iconic Academy meeting used to end with scientific papers. Fellow Tom Raasch loves to tell his story of the last paper presentation on the last day. As he approached the podium, the audience comprised one man Tom didn’t know, his best friend and best man, Fellow Peter Bergenske, and the session moderator. As Tom approached the podium, the one “real” audience member left the room, yet Tom gave a Hendrix-worthy performance for the moderator and Peter.

As I head to Boston, I plan on experiencing everything our Academy has to offer. I will muster my stamina yet feel like there’s always something going on in the meeting room next door that I’m missing and vow to see next year. I will stroll, not run, through the posters, stop to talk to old and new colleagues alike, and experience all the Exhibit Hall has to offer.

As you take off for Boston, make your plans to stay until the end. Look at the offerings on Saturday afternoon, and choose the lecture you’ll attend to finish out the meeting. Remember that your full registration includes a banquet ticket, so pack your finery and plan on being there to see the new Fellows walk proudly across the stage and announce their professional affiliations. Who knows what will happen if you don’t. You might miss a Raasch or a Hendrix or the one thing Academy members will talk about for years to come...

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WHO’S YOUR MENTOR?

     Late last month, I had the distinct pleasure of attending the summer quarter graduation ceremony at Ohio State, where 1,922 degrees were granted. I was there because I was scheduled to hood my seventh PhD student, Fellow Kathryn Richdale, but I was almost as proud to watch Fellow Eric Ritchey receive his PhD degree, too. I hosted a dinner for Kathryn the night before that included colleagues from optometry and radiology, reflecting the interdisciplinary nature of Kathryn’s work on ocular magnetic resonance imaging with a 7 Tesla magnet. The whole weekend got me thinking about my own PhD graduation from UC Berkeley in 1992 when Fellow/AAO Past-President/AOF Immediate Past-President/OVS editor/UC Berkeley Dean Emeritus (wow!) and my PhD advisor, Tony Adams, hooded Fellow Don Mutti and me. It was a magical late spring day in northern California, and the ceremony was conducted within the shadow of the iconic Campanile on the Berkeley campus. The day culminated in a celebration at Don’s parents’ home with family, children, friends, and Berkeley optometry classmates, laughter, tears, and even a homemade beer, “Graduation Ale.” We all have mentors. They advise us on work, life, health, and what book we should read next. They tell us what they think would be good for us and what might represent bad choices or decisions. They behave like grown-ups when we can’t or won’t. Their advice isn’t perfect, and we can generally take it or leave it, but it’s amazing how often they turn out to have been correct, at least in hindsight. They are different than friends and even different than parents--more vested in our achievements and often more disappointed in our stumbles. Perhaps your mentor was a favorite teacher or particularly tough clinical attending in optometry school. He may be someone who has provided you spiritual guidance. She may be a senior partner in your practice or an optometrist you worked for right out of school. In addition to Tony Adams, I was mentored very early in my career by Mark Mannis, now the Chair of the University of California, Davis Department of Ophthalmology. Somehow he heard that I became the President of the Academy in San Francisco and had flowers delivered to my office shortly after the meeting. I called him on Thanksgiving morning last year to thank him for the flowers and told him that he was what Kathryn sometimes calls me (on a good day), “the mentor of my heart.” Think about your own mentors for a minute, those of your heart, mind, or soul. Initiate contact with them; email, write, or text your mentors and protégés. If you haven’t been in touch in a while, update him on your achievements and current challenges. If you see her all the time, say thank you. If you mentor others, renew those efforts. Make her a priority today. Provide the feedback you know he needs but have had a hard time finding the words to deliver. If your partner in a mentoring relationship is attending the Annual Meeting in Boston, make arrangements now for a coffee date or meal so that your interaction is more than a wave and a smile on passing escalators. In either role—mentor or protégé—let the others know you value them in your life. If you want to learn more about mentoring and leadership, and perhaps spend some time at the Annual Meeting in Boston reflecting on these topics, register for the 2011 Merton C. Flom Leadership Insight Courses. There are two Fundamentals of Leadership courses, “What is Leadership?” and “Putting Leadership into Action,” and there’s an Intermediate Leadership Course, “How Navigating through Peaks and Valleys in the Present Can Help Make You a More Effective Leader.” P.S. To all of you who emailed or Facebooked me after last month’s column, I so appreciated it. Some of you wanted to be sure I was recovering; others cautioned me about future bicycling. A couple of you responded to the column’s encouragement, saying “Did you bug my office?” or “This is just what I needed.” Thanks to all of you. I’m fine, although I think I may always have a lumpy left temple, and I’m cycling again. Now, get back to those case reports!
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WHEN THE ROAD COMES UP TO MEET YOU

 

So there I was on a gorgeous Saturday morning in early August: bike riding from Boston to Cape Cod on my sixth Pan Massachusetts Challenge (PMC), a two-day, 160-mile, 31-year-old, 5000-cyclist event that benefits the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute at Harvard University. (I know you might be wondering why a girl from Ohio rides in Massachusetts. I can only tell you that Fellow David Troilo, Dean at the SUNY State College of Optometry, got me into it seven years ago.) I’d already done Academy work that weekend, talking with Fellow Don Korb and Past President Joan Exford about Academy 2011 Boston plans on the way to New England in the car, and I was trying to come up with an idea for this column as I rode.

On the first day, I made my way into the lunch stop in Rehoboth, Massachusetts and saw a large group of cancer patient advocates/ride supporters wearing t-shirts that said, “Smile. It’s Today.” I figured I had my inspirational topic for this month. Then life/fate/happenstance threw me a curve.

The next day, 38 miles into the 80-mile ride on Cape Cod, having navigated successfully over the Bourne Bridge at 5:00 A.M. and already up one of the more challenging hills, I found myself in an ambulance on the way to Cape Cod Hospital. I “woke up” there, after spending several minutes unconscious, asking to call my husband and obsessively worried about the condition and location of my bicycle. I have no recollection of the accident, but the PMC folks later told me that a rider went down on damp pavement just in front of me, and five of us piled up after him. I suffered a concussion that blackened both eyes plus some pretty dramatic bruising on my left hip and a bit of road rash on various limbs. My helmet was cracked all the way through. I know what my late mother would have said: “She never suffered a concussion on my watch!”

I went on to a planned week’s vacation with my family and friends on Nantucket Island after that. I replaced my helmet at a local bike store there and rode, somewhat gingerly and with more than a little fear, 50 miles over the familiar roads and bike paths on the island, and I reflected on the decisions we all make when we get thrown a curve—on the bike route, at work, in life, or in our Academy.

What if you’ve put forth your very best effort on your required case report for Fellowship, and you get feedback that it just isn’t quite right or even that it needs a complete overhaul? You could “take your ball and go home,” declaring to anyone who will listen that your case report was perfect even as your Fellowship candidacy expires. I would argue that you could instead look at the comments from the Admittance Committee, revise your case report, and resubmit it. What if the manuscript you submitted to Optometry and Vision Science needs extensive revision, and you disagree with the reviewers and Topical Editor about those revisions? Again, you could put the manuscript and the reviews in the darkest corner of your computer where you’ll never see them again, or you could prepare a detailed response to each criticism, either making the suggested revision or carefully providing the scientific rationale for why the criticism is incorrect. What if your leadership efforts in your Section, Special Interest Group, or Committee feel stymied or unappreciated? You could decide to walk away from that particular endeavor, or you could talk with the other people involved and try to figure out a better way to move your objectives forward or to adapt those objectives to the abilities and aspirations of the people you’re leading. How you respond to obstacles on the road is always up to you.

By the way, I am well on the road to recovery, two weeks after the accident. I had to forgo a similar charity ride at Ohio State this past weekend, and I finally gave into my headaches and dizziness and slept for an entire day late last week. This morning, the bruises on my face were actually almost amenable to make-up to cover them. I learned from my primary care physician about an online concussion score sheet and that my greater-than-usual swings of emotion are to be expected. I also learned to be resilient, grateful, motivated, and alive.
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OUR MANY PARTS

From As You Like It:
“All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts.”

Earlier this month, I attended the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. (Fellows Linda Casser and Lynn Cyert are also OSF aficionados.) It’s true repertory theater across temporal domains both short- and long-term. It means that actors who join the Festival in minor roles move on to leads, then character roles, and, sometimes, leadership roles, as dictated by their talents, age, and experience. The water jug carrier in Julius Caesar becomes Puck in Midsummer Night’s Dream becomes King Lear. A single actor might play Tom Robinson in To Kill a Mockingbird one afternoon and Falstaff in the evening.

We all play many roles in our lives, too, no less so in the American Academy of Optometry. Our personal and professional roles evolve from new optometrist employed in a practice to “the new doctor who just bought into the practice” to the senior partner. We are professors teaching in classrooms and clinic in the morning, Kiwanis members at lunchtime, and mother/daughter/sister/friend after work. In the Academy, we begin as Fellow, then perhaps join the Admittance Committee or Research Committee, become a Diplomate in our chosen area of emphasis, chair a Committee, and then suddenly find ourselves on the Board of Directors. Academics start as Assistant Professors and move on to tenure and, eventually, elder states(wo)man status. Our Academy meetings become “my ‘Fellow’ meeting,” “The one where I became a _______ committee member,” “that’s where I finished my Diplomate in _________” or “the one after my first daughter was born.”

Join me in our Academy Festival. Move off your current plateau, and figure out your next aspirational role. If you are a Candidate, move your Fellowship application forward by finishing up that case report. If you are a Fellow, choose the Section and Diplomate Program to which you aspire, and get going! If you want to volunteer for the Academy, let me know. Write a paper for Optometry and Vision Science. Alert OVS editor Tony Adams to your expertise that might serve the journal as a reviewer. Donate to the American Optometric Foundation. With rare exception, there is no casting director governing how many roles or which roles you can play in a lifetime in our American Academy of Optometry, and there are many, many roles that will enrich your life.
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PRIDE IN THE NAME OF...OPTOMETRY

I am writing this as I sit in the Denver airport on my way home from the AOA meeting in Salt Lake City. The meeting felt historic, memorable, and tear-inducing, as Dori Carlson, OD, FAAO became the first woman to become president of the AOA. She gave the Academy an enthusiastic shout out in her first speech as President as she described the representation of women leaders in optometry in 2011, including Tone Garaas-Maurdalen, FAAO, president of the World Council of Optometry; Kirsten North, OD, president of the Canadian Association of Optometrists; and concluding with, as Dori put it, “my friend, Dr. Karla Zadnik, president of the American Academy of Optometry.” I was there because I was proud of her; she seemed proud of me.

I found other evidence of pride about Academy fellowship in connection with the AOA. The majority of the AOA 2011-12 Board of Trustees are Fellows of our Academy. President-Elect Ron Hopping, OD, MPH, FAAO, is a Fellow and Diplomate in the Section on Cornea, Contact Lenses, and Refractive Technologies. An erudite presentation on third party payment was given by Drs. Stephen Montaquila and Bobby Jarrell in the AOA House of Delegates, with their FAAO designations proudly displayed on their talk’s title slide for all to see. LaMar Zigler, OD, MS, FAAO, who I just ran into at the gate in Denver became the 2011-12 Chair of the AOA’s Contact Lens & Cornea Section. In the final session of the House of Delegates, “Good and Welfare” items included descriptions of both the AOA meeting in Chicago in 2012 and the 2011 Annual Meeting of the Academy in Boston.

Then, this morning at 5:30 am in the Salt Lake City airport, I overheard an optometrist I didn’t know describing his practice setting to another optometrist. He was praising the abilities of his two junior partners and, in giving a shorthand version of their resumes, declared, “You know, residency-trained, top of their class, Academy, best of the best. . .”

We are like the pride of lions in The Lion King. We may sometimes have interests that seem to be at odds or competitive in nature, but we are ultimately all engaged for the common good of the optometric profession. It was evident in Salt Lake City and will be equally evident in Boston in October that we are all much, much more similar than different. What is that common ground? Whether Academy Fellow, Academy Diplomate, or a doctor aspiring to those achievements as soon as he or she finds the time to pursue them, we are all proud to be optometrists.
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LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION: REGISTRATION, REGISTRATION, REGISTRATION!

Imagine you're a professor at an optometry school. You enter your classroom with a bundle of midterm examinations in your hand, running a little late because you've been having a spirited scientific discussion with a former student. As you enter the room less than five minutes before the start of the midterm, you hear the sound of a few pairs of hands clapping. Soon, the entire room applauds, and the sound of that applause builds to a crescendo before stopping. You can hardly fathom what's happening. Are these students so appreciative of your teaching skill that they applaud BEFORE an exam? Are they being sarcastic because you're running so late? Do they applaud routinely for any little thing?

No, as with many things, it turns out to be about location, location, location. Their class was rescheduled to a nicer classroom, and they think you're responsible, even though it was a central administrative decision, hence your raucous accolades.

The Academy meeting benefits from location, too. Because the Academy meeting moves around, it’s not like Groundhog Day. It means that I remember that I became a Fellow in St. Louis and that the Steve Grant, Glenda Secor, Joe Shovlin, Joe Barr, and Jeff Dougal crowd became Diplomates in Denver. A memorable Academy meeting can be inextricably associated with its location.

Our record-breaking meeting attendance in San Francisco in 2010 is attributable in no small part to that magical city. Well, there’s more magic on the way! This year, the meeting is in one of the most vibrant of American cities: Boston. Earlier this week, AOA Board member and Academy Fellow, Mitch Munson, (and, it turns out, past Neumueller awardee!) sighed, “Boston is my favorite city.” It's got history, food, walkability, sightseeing, lovely autumn weather ... all components worthy of a long, loud round of applause.

But it's also got content. If you are considering sitting for a Board Certification examination anytime soon, check out the schedule for Academy 2011 Boston. All the categories outlined by the American Board of Optometry are represented in the Boston scientific papers, Section symposia, lectures, and workshops, several times over. It’s a four-day comprehensive review course in a beautiful city, and it happens every autumn! Who knew? You all do.

So, you’ve heard me. Fabulous location, great science, comprehensive education, and unparalleled camaraderie with your favorite optometrists and vision scientists. What should you do? Go to the registration page for registration, registration, registration. See you for a cup of chowdah and countless rounds of applause!
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WHEN GREAT TREES FALL. . .AND WHERE THEIR SEEDS LAND

Two momentous passages already in 2011 have me reflecting on the influence individuals can have on the greater good.

On the occasion of his recognition as the 2011 Nathaniel E. Springer Memorial Lecturer at the University of Alabama at Birmingham School of Optometry earlier this month, The Ohio State University College of Optometry’s EF Wildermuth Professor of Optometry, Don Mutti, attended the dinner in his honor, hosted by UAB’s new Dean, Rod Nowakowski. The event was particularly poignant, as Donald A. Springer, a President of our Academy in 1963 and 1964, passed away earlier this year, and Nathaniel Springer was Dr. Springer’s optician father. Dr. Springer is widely recognized as the founder of the UAB School of Optometry. Other attendees at the dinner included Mrs. Rita Springer. Don asked Mrs. Springer how it occurred to Dr. Springer to place a new optometric institution in the southeast at a major academic institution where there was also a medical school. Unprompted and without knowing that Don had an abiding connection to the Academy, Mrs. Springer said that her husband had just been elected to the Academy’s Executive Council in 1954 and that he was deeply inspired by the Academy and its aspirations of excellence for the optometric profession. That inspiration led him to aim high by imagining a School of Optometry at UAB; the rest is history.

The other passage also reflects connections to the Academy in a giant’s accomplishments. Founding director of the National Eye Institute, Carl Kupfer, passed away early this month. Paul Sieving, current NEI director, said of him, “Creating an NIH institute from whole cloth is a daunting task, but Carl had a vision for the NEI and persevered to make it a reality. He was dedicated to clinical research and the development of clinician scientists. He believed in the primacy of investigator-initiated research. The NEI and the vision research community are a lasting legacy of Carl’s 30 years of service.” Dr. Kupfer was the Fry awardee in 1981 and received an Honorary Fellowship Academy designation in 1997. At the 1997 meeting in San Antonio, Dr. Kupfer spoke at the American Optometric Foundation’s 50th anniversary luncheon. His remarks were summarized in the AOF’s annual report by then-President Sarita Soni: “Dr. Kupfer acknowledged the fact that AOF has made major contributions to vision research through its Ezell fellowship program. He noted a number of Ezell fellows who have received NEI research awards over the years [now including 1997 Ezell fellows Brad Fortune and Kelly Nichols née Kinney] and thus contributed to our improved understanding of visual processes and disorders of the visual system. Dr. Kupfer went on to share his excitement and hope that optometry graduates, with support from NEI and AOF, may continue to work with basic scientists to seek answers to clinical questions that are important to the practitioner.” That’s Today’s Research, Tomorrow’s Practice®.

From When Great Trees Fall, by Maya Angelou:
“And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed. “
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ONE FOR ALL, AND ALL FOR ONE

Our Academy was founded on the concept of volunteerism. That value is evident in the way Fellows say, “I love the Academy.” or “That Academy meeting in San Francisco was wonderful,” or “I never miss an Academy meeting!” and in the fact that the list of Fellows who put their names forward to volunteer for Committee positions far exceeds the number of positions that need filling. That value is evident in the day-to-day, meeting-to-meeting, year-to-year actions of volunteers.

Sheila Anderson locked herself in the Westin Hotel along with the 46 other Fellows on the Admittance Committee for an entire day during the San Francisco meeting: no continuing education, no fun, no food (oh, that’s not right; I’ll bet we fed them).

Tammy Than must have donned roller skates during the annual meetings during her four years as Chair of the Lectures and Workshops Committee; she always seemed to be everywhere in each city’s convention center, all the time begging the question, “Does she ever sleep?”

Every year, vision scientists who are ARVO members trek to our meeting and donate their time to educate fellow optometrists and inspire fellow scientists. In Anaheim in 2008, Janey Wiggs, MD, PhD, world-renowned ocular geneticist from Harvard University, graced our Academy with her presence in just this way.

Just this week, I asked six Fellows to serve our Academy in a new way and heard back in the affirmative from four of them in less than 24 hours.

And who can forget then-Membership Chair Barbara Caffery’s “kissing booth” in the Academy’s recruitment area in the Exhibit Hall?

My attitude about my own Academy service might sound familiar to some of you: “Free. And it always will be.”

These are just several examples of the tireless service that benefits our Academy every day. Your own opportunity to serve the Academy starts in simple ways. Pay your dues. Come to the Annual Meeting. Submit scientific presentations, lectures, and workshops year after year. Dance at the Australia Party. Form a Special Interest Group. Become a Diplomate. Undoubtedly, there are countless others.

Here at Ohio State, I have a poster on my wall that Tom Raasch gave me in 1996 when I first joined the faculty. It pictures our then- and now-president, E. Gordon Gee, engaged in lots of activities including reading a newspaper (School of Journalism), wearing a lab coat (Colleges of Health Sciences), and striking a Heisman pose (well, you know). The saying across the top says, “Find Your Place at Ohio State.” I can steal that: Find your place in our Academy. It will reward you beyond measure.
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THEY’RE NOT THE OSCARS BUT …

They’re not the Oscars. They’re our Academy Awards, our beloved American Academy of Optometry Awards, and they have created magical moments over the years.

In this 2011 award nomination season, I want to highlight one such magical moment. In the mid-1990s, before Thom Freddo, Don Korb or Chris Johnson chaired the Awards Committee, the awards ceremony was pretty open-ended. Acceptance speeches could be a bit expansive, and we had no orchestral music to gracefully interrupt the awardees with their personal theme music.

In 1995 in New Orleans, Joseph S. Nupuf, OD, FAAO, was awarded Life Fellowship in the Academy. He was deeply honored, took the podium, and proceeded to describe the history of contact lenses in the 20th century from his up-close-and-personal vantage point. Those in attendance may remember his chronology. It was long. Those who had drunk too much coffee that morning shifted uncomfortably in their seats. The young Fellows there who couldn’t fathom the innovation of sclera lenses in the 1940s might even have yawned. A doubleback in the progress of the story from 1960 to 1945 elicited a quiet groan from the audience. Yet Dr. Nupuf’s pride and stature were evident, and as his colorful, vividly sketched life story came to its conclusion, Dr. Ben Nerenberg led a rousing standing ovation. The moment was magic and memorable.

Last week I Googled Dr. Nupuf and discovered that he passed in 2009 at the age of 97. His online obituary from Canton, Ohio described him as an “ageless” contact lens pioneer and cited his American Academy of Optometry Life Fellowship award as a significant point of pride.

Future awards programs are only as magical as the awardees who are recognized. The award nominators are the unsung heroes of the awards program. The Awards Committee owes them a huge debt of gratitude annually.

Chris Johnson, PhD, FAAO, wrote last month about the nomination process, “In the past few years, we have had outstanding candidates for the awards, and we would like to see this continue. It would be a very pleasant problem for the Awards Committee members if we have a large number of candidates with exceptional track records and accomplishments to choose from.

A couple of quick reminders: (1) If a candidate has been nominated in the past couple of years but has not been selected, they can still be re-nominated. A new set of letters of support and nomination can be generated, or the previous letters can be used. However, please let us know which option you are selecting so that we can make sure to have a complete and up-to-date package for them. A prior letter can be amended to include new accomplishments. (2) Be sure to identify the specific major accomplishments of the nominee in the opening paragraph so that the Awards Committee will be apprised of their primary contributions at the earliest time.”

Head to the Awards webpage to remind yourself about the awards and their criteria. Be our hero. Help make the magic moments for Academy 2011 Boston.
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"TELL ME ABOUT THAT DIPLOMATE PROGRAM AGAIN”

Many of you know that the American Academy of Optometry amended its bylaws at the Business Meeting in Orlando in 2009 to allow for the creation of Special Interest Groups to help Fellows find an intellectual “home” within the larger family that is the Academy. Of course, the Academy has always housed intellectual homes in the guise of its Sections. The eight Sections are Binocular Vision, Perception, and Pediatrics; Cornea, Contact Lenses, and Refractive Technologies; Disease; Low Vision; Optometric Education; Primary Care; Public Health & Environmental Optometry; and Vision Science, and they all host Diplomate programs.

Making the decision to start down the path towards becoming a Diplomate in your favorite optometric area might seem like a big decision, and there are lots of reasons not to do it. “It’s hard.” “It’s not my cup of tea.” “What if I don’t succeed?” “I just don’t have the time.” Those are all valid reasons not to pursue many things in life. So what’s the up side? Why do crazy people—the Fellow in the practice down the street, people who lecture at meetings nationally and internationally, optometrists and vision scientists employed by the ophthalmic industry and by our academic institutions—head down the Diplomate road?

Here’s what I heard when I asked the Section and Diplomate Award Chairs that same question.

“This year the Section on Cornea, Contact Lenses, and Refractive Technologies was pleased to welcome three new Diplomates. The process is daunting, and most candidates have to work very hard to get through it. One of this year’s new Diplomates came to me after passing the Oral Examination and said that, as difficult as it was at times, it was the greatest accomplishment of their professional career. Further, they felt that the Academy was most collegial organization around."
–Doug Benoit, OD, Chair, Section on Cornea, Contact Lenses, and Refractive Technologies.

and …

“This year a candidate in the Low Vision Diplomate Program was so dedicated that, even after having just returned from her honeymoon with pneumonia and mononucleosis, she traveled 3,000 miles to San Francisco and emerged from her hotel sickbed to take (and ace) the required Ocular Disease Examination. When asked about her persistence, she admitted ‘It wasn't easy to tackle this year, but anything worth doing is rarely easy. I made a commitment to go through the Diplomate process for many reasons: professional growth, to become a better teacher for my students, and, ultimately, to provide better care for my patients. And, as my friends will tell you, when I am on a mission, there is little that can throw me off course.'”
–Roanne Flom, OD, FAAO, Diplomate Chair, Low Vision Section
So, come on. Stretch. Devote some of your time to a life experience improving your ocular disease knowledge; reflecting on your experiences as an educator; excelling in pediatrics. You will get back even more than the considerable amount you give. I think I might even look into the Public Health Diplomate program!

For more information about Section Diplomate programs, please visit the Sections’ area on the Academy website located under the “Sections” tab.
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