As we recover from our big Thanksgiving celebrations, I recommend this recent short NYT piece by A.J. Jacobs on gratitude. It’s fun and reflective – just what the doctor ordered.
As we recover from our big Thanksgiving celebrations, I recommend this recent short NYT piece by A.J. Jacobs on gratitude. It’s fun and reflective – just what the doctor ordered.
When I was in my second year of medical school, a third-year student came to speak to our class about being on the wards. He gave an animated talk about how important it was to recognize that when residents, attendings, or nurses hollered at us on on our clinical rotations, 99% of the time, it wasn’t personal. He likened the situation to Boston traffic – how drivers lean on their horns for little cause because they are simply frustrated about their days.
It’s not personal, he said.
I am saying the same to my clients. I’ve had applicants complain that faculty interviewers mixed them up with other candidates or were wholly unprepared – reading their applications for the first time during the interview itself. Remember: It’s not personal. This process is arduous and long, and most candidates, faculty, and program coordinators are tired and doing their best. When things are rough, give others the benefit of the doubt. It will help you get through this stressful process with your sanity intact.
A few years ago a medical school applicant wrote me to say that the dean of the school at which she had recently interviewed called her to tell her that he was impressed with her candidacy and the hand-written thank you note she had sent. The client thanked me for my help and the thank you note tip I had given her. As you might have guessed, she was admitted to that medical school.
Writing a thank you note after a medical school or residency interview is so easy for you to do, and it can go a long way.
Now, I get asked by clients what the best way to send post-interview thank you notes is – email or snail mail. I strongly advise sending your thank you note by good old USPS. The reasons are:
1) Email may be viewed as lazy. Handwritten notes demonstrate you’ve put some time into being appreciative.
2) Email can be deleted without much thought. Emotionally, it’s harder to throw someone’s handwritten note in the trash.
Get your handwritten thank you notes in quickly. The night after you’ve completed your interview or the next day is a good time to write and send.
I was with my children at a four year-old’s birthday party a few years ago when I met the grandfather of the birthday-boy. As it turned out, before retiring, the man had been on the admissions committee of a prestigious medical school for decades.
So, I asked him, “Looking back at all of those years of experience, what is the one thing you learned from interviewing medical students?”
The man chuckled and said, “They have no idea what they’re getting themselves into.”
In life, we never have any idea what we’re getting ourselves into, but I think of this man every time I practice the question “What will you like least about being a doctor” or “…least about being a [insert your medical specialty here]” with my medical school and residency mentees, respectively. Saying you’ll love everything about being a physician or psychiatrist or pediatrician or internist sounds disingenuous and naive. You need to show that you have some idea what you’re getting yourself into.
Having said that, I would avoid tacky topics like money. And talking about how horrible night shifts are is not going to win you many points. But a sophisticated applicant can infer what the challenges will be in medicine or in her specialty and can express them with aplomb.
…As with everything, practice your answer in advance.
Last week I went to hear the author Nicole Krauss speak about her recently-released novel Forest Dark. I am a big fan of Krauss’ writing. The day I heard the author speak, she had published an opinion piece in the NYT Sunday Magazine called “Do Women Get to Write with Authority?” In the article, Krauss speaks about the lack of authority that women writers have compared to men, and specifically, how female artists’ work is often characterized as “lovely,” a word she describes as lacking in “independent power.”
I must admit that I sometimes use the word “lovely” (both for women and men) when I like someone. But Krauss made me think about the word in the context of achievement – not personality – and her point is well-taken.
What does this have to do with medical school and residency admissions? When you interview, you want the faculty member to leave the table saying you were “accomplished,” not “lovely.” Many applicants miss this point: You don’t want to simply be liked; you want to be seen as worthy. It’s important that you focus on that important goal as you practice for interviews.
As an aside, I have not gotten a hold of Forest Dark yet, but I would strongly recommend Krauss’ Great House and History of Love.