Brent L.

Photography by Emma Kraus

If you’re reading this, trust yourself and your process.

Many of you know me as the chair of the Student Committee on Medical School Affairs (SCOMSA), but what you may not know is what that role actually entails. It’s mostly meetings, the occasional presentation here and there, and a lot of decision making. The meetings and presentations, I expected. Even before being elected, I could visualize myself enjoying the process of being informed and updated on all the things that go on behind the scenes. The decisions, their frequency, and their weight were not things that I was expecting. The decisions ranged from institutional to extracurricular; from budgetary to bureaucratic; from large to small–and I was expected to weigh in on almost all of them. We had to decide what to spend our money on, how much we should spend, which events we will run, how to run them, where and when to run them, what we hope to achieve–the list is endless. 

I truly feel privileged to have earned the title of “Mr. President” as some of you have begun to call me. Every day, I am flattered and humbled to be in this position. It is a joy to represent my class and its wishes, but I’d be lying if I said that it doesn’t take a toll on me. It’s one thing to make decisions about your own life, but it’s another when your decisions directly affect your classmates’ experience of medical school, especially when I know I will have to face those very classmates the next day in L-4. The weight of those decisions can be immense and, sometimes, I live in fear of the consequences of my choices. 

When I was helping to organize the ski trip, many of you commented that I seemed unlike myself. To those of you who noticed, you were right. That was probably the most stressed I’ve been in a long time, maybe ever. I still remember when we realized that we were going to have to ask our participants for more money after I had already told everyone we were finished collecting money. I remember pacing my 14x9 room thinking “damn, these people are going to hate me.” I tend to accept sole responsibility for undesirable outcomes, even if it’s not always my burden to carry alone.

I’ve reflected a lot on my experience planning the ski trip, and I think what I’ve realized is that the source of this stress and pressure comes from an internal drive to do things well. I didn’t want to just organize the ski trip; I wanted to put together a memorable, fun ski trip where everyone walked away with a good experience. Similarly, I don’t want to just be the chair of SCOMSA, I want to be the chair that makes students feel supported, heard, and respected; the chair that you look back on as someone who really made your experience in medical school special. However, the thought that I might not be able to live up to those expectations truly frightens me, and I put a lot of pressure on myself as a result.

I think a lot of us can identify with this pressure to succeed. After all, the reason most of us are even here in the first place is because we have that internal drive to do well, to carve out a space for ourselves and accomplish great things. Medicine, especially at a prestigious place like BU, selects individuals that expect a lot of themselves. For me, this pressure manifests in my duties as chair. For you, it probably manifests differently. Some of you may feel a pressure to be constantly producing abstracts and papers. Others may feel a pressure to finish several hundreds or even thousands of Anki cards every day. Some of you will feel pressure to preserve work-life balance at all costs, making it a point to keep the responsibilities from taking more than what you’ve already allowed yourself to give. Others may feel a pressure to push themselves to their limits, even if just to see where those limits lie. Certainly, all of us feel the pressure to become an expert in a new organ system every 4-5 weeks. Still, these pressures tend to elicit the same, universal reactions: anxiety, stress, burnout, exhaustion. In talking with many of you, I’ve heard how this pressure contributes to a constant feeling of being behind, of feeling like we’re not good enough, or like we might not become the people we aspire to become. While the pressure to perform can be a huge motivator, it can also hold us back, paralyze us, and prevent us from being the best versions of ourselves. 

I don’t pretend to have the solution on how to toe the line between feeling overwhelmed and feeling relaxed, nor will I try to pretend that this pressure is something we should try to avoid or downplay. What I do know though is that our ability to constantly meet and overcome this pressure does not define us, our success in medical school, nor our futures as physicians. I truly believe that regardless of how we may feel on any given day, within us all lies the capacity to achieve our dreams. The fact that we were accepted to medical school is a reflection of that same capacity, ability, and work ethic.

My message to you all is this: trust yourselves. Trust that the effort you’ve put into getting here will shine through now that you’re actually here. Trust that the decisions you’re making and the things you’re doing right now will be the right choices that will put you in the places you aspire to be in. Trust that even if you don’t always meet the daily expectations of yourself, that the tiny increments you’ve made along the way will be more than enough to carry you through. The pressure to perform may seem insurmountable, but then again, we’re pretty great too. Stay dreamers my friends. :)

Brent L., Boston University

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