2004 Pauline Cerasoli Lecture: The Influence of Leaders

Journal of Physical Therapy Education, Fall 2004 by Feitelberg, Samuel B

I want to thank the leadership of the [Education] Section, Laurie and Diane and others, for this opportunity to honor Polly Cerasoli's contributions to our profession. The lecture series keeps her actively at our side as we continue our work. I wrote Polly a letter in early January and enclosed my photograph.

Polly and I took similar career paths, at different times, from clinical to academic leadership positions. I know Polly best through her long-standing friendship with Jody Delehanty. Ours was a relaxed and humor-filled relationship. They were both "native" Vermonters, a special breed of people, believe me! No matter how much I extolled the virtues of Vermont, they would never let me forget I was not a native. When my grandson was born in Vermont, they conveyed the appropriate congratulations, but again reminded me that the occasion "still did not make me a native Vennonter."

My selection for the Polly Cerasoli Lectureship has been a deeply felt experience, a milestone among other milestones in my professional and personal life. On October 23, 2003, I celebrated my 50th anniversary in physical therapy. That is an awesome feeling. In August of this year, Gail and I will celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary with our four children, their spouses, and our five grandchildren (two are native Vermonters).

I remember vividly my first day at work in 1953. Ben Massey recalled those times in his 2002 presidential address, "What's All the Fuss about Direct Access?"1

At orientation we were told:

* Do not expect to make money (my salary was $37.50 per week).

* When you are in the presence of physicians, go to the back of the elevator, or use the stairs. If you are permitted to attend rounds or a presentation, stand in the hack row or sit behind the medical students.

* If and when you write in the chart, your notes are to be written in the back of the chart.

We needed a Rosa Parks of our own.

In the afternoon, we attended orientation in the physical therapy department. Or William Benham Snow, our medical director, informed us of all the "do-nots," and Edith Hansen, physical therapy supervisor, informed us of all the "can-dos," (with a little twinkle in her eye).

I was instructed to purchase four uniforms: four white tunics, Ben Casey style, white pants and a white belt, white shoes (two pairs), and white socks high enough so as not to expose any flesh. I could wear no jewelry except a watch and I had to remove my rings during patient care hours. My hair was to be cut and combed. I accepted this quite readily as it was symbolic of my position, though the starched uniform drove me nuts. Of course, I was also responsible for sewing on the APTA patch.

On the second day, I appeared in uniform and was given my assignment in the pediatric cerebral palsy clinic and polio outpatient clinic for male children and male adults. At about 11:45 in the morning, I went up one flight of stairs to the cerebral palsy clinic, walked up to the desk, and asked an attractive young lady for directions. She was very professional, somewhat aloof, and direct. It was Gail, and the rest is our family history.

A year later my experiences in physical therapy were quite different. I had been drafted into the Army. This was the time of the Korean War. Contrary to my orientation directives, I was in the front row on rounds, the physician included me in patient conferences, and I was expected to contribute. What a taste of autonomy! My peers were "officers of the corps," demonstrating dignity, devotion, and empathy. We held each other in great respect and helped each other to grow.

I began the preparation of my topic by reviewing all of the past six presentations and listening to Suzie last year. If yon are chosen for this honor, don't do that right away. It will devastate your self-confidence and morale, because they were great presentations.

Since my chosen theme is leadership, I reread Ben Massey's 2001 presidential address, "We Have Arrived."2 I was somewhat concerned by Ben's remarks since traditionally, society often ordains a profession's "arrival," not the profession itself. Well, on December 31, 2003, society did recognize us, and we did arrive. The vehicle? A daily crossword puzzle in the Burlington Free Press.3 The clue: "PT's expertise." The answer: "Rehab." Yes! Now we have arrived.

What came out of all this reading was the continuous chorus of statements and phrases starting with the word "we." It wasn't difficult to see how and why the continuum of visions over 79 years led to Vision 2020 in the year 2000. For many reasons, "our time had come."

I decided to explore how our leaders have developed, sustained, and nurtured our profession through their influence. Leadership as an experience is a personal journey. But whatever the pathway, our mutual mission is to further the profession to benefit society.

A significant dimension of this process is the humanism employed by leaders to strengthen each generation of practitioners. This rising generation of leaders will be called upon to devote extraordinary energy to protect and foster our mission.