As early as I can remember, my parents taught me to make choices that leave the world in a better place. This philosophy drove me to become a physician and researcher. This is the philosophy by which my husband Mark and I raised our children. And this is the philosophy I follow — and share — as a leader. Making this world a better place in big and small ways is at the core of everything I try to do.
My love of research began in high school. When I was in ninth grade, I took a class called Research and Development. I was the only girl in the class, which I saw as a great advantage. During the first week of school, the teacher had us design a study using the scientific method. I decided to evaluate whether plants would grow better under the influence of classical music, the music of the Beatles, or no music at all. Sadly, all of the plants died, which made it clear that I wasn’t destined for a career in botany.
However, the experience of investigation and the process of discovery — the fact that you could ask a question that hadn’t been answered and design an experiment to investigate the question — ignited my passion for science and made me realize I wanted to dedicate my life to investigating questions that would result in ways to make sick people better. Although I didn’t know the term at the time, that was the moment I decided to become a physician-scientist.
When I entered a six-year medical program at Northwestern in 1974, I was one of 12 women in a class of 60. Notably, today, women make up half of incoming medical students at most schools.
At the time, I never saw being a woman as a disadvantage. It was during my time in medical school that I met my future husband, Mark Pescovitz.
When I was in medical school, everyone said to me, “Of course you’ll be a pediatrician, because you’re a girl and girls like children.” Of course, this sexist assumption got right under my skin and caused me to vow that I would be anything BUT a pediatrician. And so I set out to become a surgeon.
Throughout my training, I fought every inclination toward pediatrics. I even went so far as to put off my required pediatrics rotation until the middle of my senior year. When I finally started that rotation, however, something unexpected and transformative happened: I found that I loved the specialty of pediatrics and that I identified with the values, ideals, and personalities of other pediatricians.
I knew I had found my calling and pursued the subspecialty of pediatric endocrinology. I was drawn to academia and knew that I would likely spend my career in the pursuit of discovering new knowledge and educating a future generation of students.
Upon completing medical school in 1979, Mark and I headed to the University of Minnesota, where I completed my residency in pediatrics while Mark completed his residency in general surgery. From there, we moved to Maryland, where I completed my pediatrics residency at Children’s Hospital National Medical Center in Washington, D.C., as well as a fellowship in endocrinology at the National Institutes of Health’s Institute of Child Health and Human Development, while Mark did research in immunology at the National Cancer Institute.
During these four amazing and productive years, we welcomed our first two children — Aliza and Ari — who were born 16 months apart. At the end of my fellowship, I had 27 publications and had presented numerous papers at national meetings about my research. It had been a time of explosive research discoveries and I was fortunate to have been at the center of many of the exciting advances in numerous areas, especially in growth and puberty.
Unfortunately, when it was time for Mark to return to Minnesota to complete his surgical residency and a fellowship in transplantation, I was not offered a position. It was a period of enormous turmoil for me, especially since I had received excellent offers from higher-ranked institutions. Eventually, I was offered a low-level instructor-level position and a salary that was less than I had been paid as a fellow at the NIH.
But shortly after my arrival, when I got an NIH grant funded, I was promoted to an assistant professor in the University of Minnesota’s Department of Pediatrics. And, two years later, in 1987, we rounded out our family with the addition of our daughter Naomi.
When Mark completed his fellowship, we were ready to move again. Mark and I received a number of offers for positions at various — but different — universities. Mark was very excited about a position he was offered at Indiana University School of Medicine, but I was not offered a position there and also couldn’t imagine living in Indianapolis! After much debate and discussion, we decided to let his career guide our next step, and the five of us were off to Indy.
The next 21 years that we spent in Indiana turned out to be ones that I treasure deeply, both personally and professionally. I watched my three children evolve into wonderful adults, had the honor of treating many inspiring young patients at Riley Hospital for Children, continued to pursue a productive research career, and bolstered Indiana University’s position as a focal point for biomedical research and a catalyst for Indiana’s life sciences initiative.
Upon arriving in Indiana, I accepted an appointment as an associate professor of pediatrics, and physiology and biophysics. Over the next several years, I began to establish myself within the IU community, becoming director of IU’s section of pediatric endocrinology/diabetology in 1990, the Edwin Letzter Professor of Pediatrics in 1998, executive associate dean for research affairs at IU School of Medicine from 2000 to 2009, president and CEO of Riley Hospital for Children from 2004 to 2009, and interim vice president for research administration from 2007 to 2009.
I spent 30 years of my career conducting basic and translational research in molecular endocrinology and treating children with growth and pubertal disorders. Pediatric endocrinology is a wonderful subspecialty because you have the opportunity to break down very complex issues and identify simplified solutions, as well as help children and families. I have myriad examples of small and large contributions that I can reflect on in both discovery and training that were exceedingly gratifying.
In 2007, I experienced a serious career disappointment when I was one of two finalists for the presidency for Indiana University. I have great admiration for President McRobbie, who was selected for the position, but I was personally devastated. After it became public that I had been a finalist for the position, numerous search firms contacted me about other positions and it led to my next big career move.
It also led me to begin to think about a philosophy that I realized had actually been guiding me before:
Shoot for the Stars — when you miss, you might land on the Moon … Pursue the Moon Landings with zeal!
In 2009, my Moon Landing was the position of health system CEO and executive vice president for medical affairs at the University of Michigan. It was a wonderful opportunity, and also one of the most difficult decisions of my career. But, just like we did two decades before, Mark and I discussed the options and decided it was an opportunity I couldn’t and shouldn’t pass up. Our kids were grown, and Mark’s career as a transplant surgeon was thriving. We decided that, like many dual-career couples, we would make it work.
The opportunity to run one of the top integrated academic health systems in the nation was exceptional. The University of Michigan Health System (today known as Michigan Medicine) was then a $3.3B system with more than 120 health centers and clinics, $490M in research funding, and 27,000 employees. I led the system’s wide-ranging strategic planning efforts, advanced diversity, equity, and inclusion across the health system, raised $450M in philanthropic funds, and expanded the system’s advancement efforts, among other initiatives.
ON LIFE AND LOSS
On December 12, 2010, my life changed forever when my beloved husband, Mark, was killed in a tragic car accident. Until Mark’s death, I thought my life was nearly perfect.
Mark was a committed volunteer and leader in the medical, Jewish, arts and music communities; a surgeon who always put patients first; a researcher determined to find new ways to save and improve lives; an artist who absorbed and reflected the world around him; and a dedicated father, husband, brother, and son who embraced the true beauty and meaning of family. He was my soul mate, and navigating the world without his love, companionship, and friendship seemed unbearable at first.
MOVING ON
But, the world does not stand still, even when tragedy strikes. I realized that no matter how difficult my circumstances, there was someone whose circumstances were more challenging than mine. I began to realize just how fortunate I was. I had a wonderful family and terrific friends; I had a good job and strong skills; and I still had the opportunity to Shoot for the Stars.
Mark’s death reminded me about perspective. It re-grounded me and forced me to really connect to what is important and who I am. I knew that I could never replace him or replicate our life together, but I could carry his wisdom and his love with me with every step forward. Life includes disappointments, tragedy, imperfections, and heartache. It also includes amazing triumphs, discovery, and great successes. Both offer valuable opportunities for growth.
After Mark’s death, I realized that I needed to be closer to family. When two of my three children moved back to Indianapolis to accept positions there, I returned to Indianapolis to accept a position as senior vice president and U.S. medical leader for biomedicines at Eli Lilly and Co. In that role, I was responsible for the launch of new medicines, real-world evidence-based research, relationships with large health systems, and patient assistant programs. It was another outstanding growth experience and wonderful to be back in Indianapolis.
After three good years, I kept hearing my parents’ voices: Are you doing everything you can to make the world a better place?
I started to wonder if I was doing enough to apply whatever skills and abilities I might have to making an important impact, to making a difference, to moving the needle in areas that matter. My children all had excellent careers and were not financially dependent on me and I knew that I was never motivated by personal financial gain.
Headhunters had been contacting me about positions around the country, but one opportunity really resonated with me. So, in 2017, I accepted the presidency of Oakland University in Rochester, Michigan, a university of nearly 19,000 undergraduate and graduate students. One-third of our students are first-generation college students and one-third are Pell recipients. And, Oakland University had a new medical school in partnership with the Beaumont Health System. I was truly excited about the opportunity to have a significant impact.
Since becoming president of OU, we have increased academic success, scholarship, and community engagement and increased our focus on diversity, equity, and inclusion. Our campus has grown, institutional culture and morale have improved, and the entrepreneurial spirit is strong.
I am extremely proud of how effectively we have navigated the COVID-19 pandemic and we are now preparing for a close to normal fall 2021 semester. It has been exceedingly rewarding to work with a talented and dedicated team and to experience progress being made in so many domains. In spring of 2021, I was privileged to have my contract renewed by my board of trustees.
ON LEADERSHIP
After spending the first half of my career in education, clinical care, and research, my career path shifted to administrative positions. I was fortunate to have had remarkable leadership opportunities, each of which was predicated upon those that came before. Initially, I was a section director in a department of pediatrics; then, I became an executive dean for research, the CEO of a large children’s hospital, vice-president for research for a Big Ten university, the CEO of one of the nation’s largest integrated academic health systems, a senior vice-president in big pharma, and now am the president of a research university.
In each of these positions throughout my career, I have described my leadership style as what Robert Greenleaf calls “servant leadership.” In each administrative role, I’ve seen my primary purpose as serving the institution by setting the direction, defining aspirational goals, inspiring others to achieve these goals, and creating environments in which the institution will be successful and thrive.
As a physician, I learned how important it is to learn through observation. As a scientist, I know it’s important to acquire data, be objective, let experiments tell the truth, and not let your preconceived ideas sway you. As a hospital administrator, I’ve learned how important it is to be a member of a productive team. As a parent, I want to create an environment in which my “children” will be maximally nurtured so that they will excel.
I don’t claim to be the smartest person in the room. That’s why I surround myself with experts and people who represent diverse perspectives. I like to bring groups of people together and then set Rules of Engagement that focus on Results, Trust, Commitment, Accountability, and Constructive Conflict.
I make it safe for my teams to be collegial collaborators and intelligent risk-takers. This can sometimes be tricky and difficult, but I encourage them to think big, be creative, take risks, and see failure as an opportunity to learn and evolve.
I have found that the Rules of Engagement are critical to the success of high-functioning teams. If the goals are not ambitious, if they don’t Shoot for the Stars, they may not be ambitious enough. Similarly, there is no harm in thoughtful risk-taking ideas and creativity balanced by being good stewards of financial resources.
My leadership style is a culmination of all of these experiences and approaches with an effort to keep enthusiasm high and to make the institution the best that it can be.
ON MENTORSHIP
To be successful and fulfilled, you should never stop learning, developing, and growing personally or professionally, and mentors provide incredibly valuable guidance. I know I would not be where I am today without great mentors, and I don’t think you can ever have too many of them. I don’t think mentoring is emphasized and encouraged as much as it should be in today’s world.
I’ve found that no one person can serve all your needs, so I have crafted what I like to call a “mentor quilt.” A mentor quilt is a support network of inspiring individuals who serve as advisors for how you want to live both your personal and professional lives. I have one mentor for research, one for clinical activity, one for work-life balance, and so on. I am always adding new ones, and I never let the others go. Find mentors and be a mentor. I like the warmth and comfort that I experience when I wrap myself in the thoughts of my mentor quilt.
ON WORK-LIFE BALANCE
When my children were young, the approach of summer always meant more activities, which meant it was a good time for me to take a look at my own schedule and make sure that I could effectively be both Mom and doctor. While not always an easy task, it is certainly one of the most important.
Work-life balance is fundamental to our physical, mental, and emotional wellness, as well as our productivity in — and satisfaction with — our professional and personal lives. In my experience, the key to balancing work and life effectively comes down to time management. I recall a proverb that says, “Ordinary people think merely of spending time. Great people think of using it.”
I sometimes say that “there is no such thing as work-life balance because we only get one life … so, we have to learn to balance that one.” Work drifts into our home life, and our home lives drift into our work life.
Over the course of my life and career, I’ve found that the best strategy for time management is following the Pareto Principle, or what is more commonly called the 80/20 Rule. Most things in life are distributed unevenly, including our “To Do” lists. Applying the 80/20 rule, typically 80% of the value from our work comes from only 20% of the items on our To Do lists. So, focus your energy and time on the 20% of tasks that result in 80% of the value — the ones that yield the greatest return on investment.
Of course, just invoking the name of Pareto won’t make the less-valuable 80% of tasks on your To Do list magically disappear. You need a strategy for managing those items, as well. One of the most successful strategies I’ve used is the 4Ds: Do, Dump, Delegate, Delay.
Do: This applies to those tasks that support your most valuable work — the vital 20%. Deal with emails, documents, and phone calls regarding priority issues as soon as they come across your desk, your inbox, or your voicemail. I call this “handle paper once.” This way, you stay on top of your priorities, you keep important projects moving, and you don’t amass a daunting load to deal with at another time. That other time might be a long way off.
Dump: If something comes across your desk that doesn’t pertain to your priorities, doesn’t require follow-up, and doesn’t support your goals, do you really need to keep it? Probably not. Dump it!
Delegate: If a task requires attention or action but doesn’t make your “Do” list, can/should someone else handle it? Is it on another person’s “Do” list? If so, move it along.
Delay: Very few things should make it to the Delay pile. But, on occasion, there may be something you want to review later. If so, file, print, or store it for another time.
Of course, there is no one-size-fits-all solution to time management or work-life balance. As our lives change, our priorities change, and the balance we need changes, too. The 4Ds strategy has worked for me for many years, so I continue to use it. In fact, I revisit it almost daily to make sure I am on track. Find the formula and strategies that help you best use your time and achieve maximum work-life balance.
ON HAPPINESS
Over the course of my career, I’ve noticed that successful people are almost always happy people, but they are rarely content. If you let yourself be content, you welcome mediocrity into your life. If you are resting on your laurels, as Malcolm Kushner says, you are likely wearing them on the wrong end.
If, however, you find yourself in a place where you are just not happy with your job, I suggest trying out what I call the 4Ps:
First, Push and lobby for change that will change your circumstances.
If that doesn’t work, Put up with it — accept the situation and decide to adapt to it. In other words, instead of changing the environment, change yourself.
Still not working out? Well, it might be time to leave, or Pull out. Sometimes, leaving is the only way to move on and ahead.
And finally, no matter what, always find time to have fun, to enjoy life and to Play.
Find a position in which you can maximize your strengths to make the greatest contribution.
Cultivate an environment where people feel encouraged and rewarded for creativity.
Throw fear out the window — take risks!
Embrace diversity in your colleagues and your organization.
Realize that perfection is not success, and failure is an opportunity to learn and evolve.
Accept that you will make mistakes. In fact, if you don’t make mistakes along the way, you may not be trying hard enough!
Find a suitable strategy for work-life balance. Work is important, but what else defines you?
Create a “mentor quilt.”
Success breeds success, and leadership is about helping others succeed.
Don’t wait for opportunities to find you — seek them out and create them.
Excerpted from Lessons Learned: Stories from Women Physician Leaders, edited by Deborah M. Shlian, MD, MBA.