Back in May, I presented at career day for the third-graders.  I was warned by my then third-grader that I couldn’t come unless I shared “cool stuff” as opposed to the boring stuff he thinks I do most of the time.  So, I approached my cooler colleagues and gathered case histories and collateral for work we do for a shoe/sporting good manufacturer, a fast food restaurant, a camera company — the cooler stuff.  The third-graders asked great questions but the most interesting discussions were centered around how much celebrities charged to help on the campaigns and that the kids thought it was okay for the celebrities to get paid “because everyone knows that they don’t do it for free.”

For many reasons, I’m delighted to learn that the big pharmaceutical companies like Merck and Eli Lilly are now going to disclose payments to physicians, CME grants etc.  (www.pharmalot.com), but one clear reason for my appreciation of this long overdue news is that “we all know doctors get paid.”   Pretending they didn’t created unnecessary skepticism for an industry that does far more good than harm.    I never quite understood why it was a secret in the past. 

I know that there was the worry that reputation would be damaged because the public or other stakeholders would not understand the nature of the payments but let’s face it, keeping that information under wraps didn’t exactly protect their reputations and by the way, why was there anything to hide?  Fees paid to physicians for their insight, counsel, expertise are fair and appropriate.  Lending their credibility and expertise to the sharing of information through publication or medical education is really no different than a celebrity lending their cool factor to a product they use and believe in. 

To assume a spokesperson fee or the costs associated with a clinical trial results in bad medicine is a blanket indictment that is neither fair nor logical.  Most people don’t lend their names and reputation to something they don’t believe in.  Most doctors didn’t attend medical school with the hope of becoming a spokesperson…they did it because they wanted to practice good medicine, create breakthroughs for hard to treat diseases or improve quality of life for chronically ill patients.  Sure, there are some bad apples, as in any industry, who let dollars influence behavior to the detriment of patients — but not most — not even close.  But these are not new insights.  It’s the factual message that pharma has tried to relay for years — to deaf ears.

So, why am I so delighted that they have publicly announced disclosure plans?  Because now, we can move on to what really matters — finding a way for this industry to continue to provide breakthrough science to manage disease for as many people as possible.  Some would argue that the fees paid to doctors are more about marketing than fighting disease — could be.  But, without that physician/industry engagement, the breakthroughs are impossible to achieve.   And, I for one, will be happy to know that the company innovating a new solution has engaged expert physicians to vet the studies, study the product in clinical practice and educate their peers on appropriate use. 

I did the unthinkable Saturday evening.  I agreed with the nine-year-old when he said “he stunk” in his basketball game.  Okay, tell me where i go for the public flogging for telling my child that he was less than perfect.  But, I’d do it again.

The nine-year-old is a VERY good basketball player.  He actually had two games on Saturday.  He was great in the first game, doing everything he’s practiced, listened to the coach, created opportunities for teammates to shine and as a result, shone himself.  By the second game, at the end of the day, he lost interest, steam…who knows.  But, he didn’t play well.  So, when he moped off the court at the end of the game and flung himself in the chair next to me exclaiming, “I stunk.”  I said, “yep, not your best day.”  He was a little shocked but then we talked about what happened, and we moved on.  We won’t know if acknowledging that he didn’t do well will matter…we’ll see in the next game but i didn’t see any value in pretending when he knew it wasn’t his best effort.

I believe in being honest when someone hasn’t done their best…at home and at work.  To do anything else is to underestimate the individual in question.  They know when they’ve done their best and when they haven’t.  I believe that if you take the time to be unemotional but honest with them, discuss what didn’t work and why and then talk about how to do it differently next time, they usually take it to heart and improve. 

Too often, we miss the opportunities to help someone improve because giving the tough input is too hard, or it makes us unpopular, or someone pouts and makes us uncomfortable.  I can attest to the unpopular bit.  For years at work, I gave the thorough reviews — good and bad — and delivered the tough news.  In contrast, my colleagues were saying everything was okay even as clients were complaining abut the quality of work and haphazard team performance.  The result was that I ended up with a reputation that ranges from “tough but fair” on good days to a version of “witch” among those who were less appreciative of the feedback. 

Now, I will admit that early on, i was better at giving negative feedback than I was at balancing it with positive and constructive forward looking advice.  I also tended to take other people’s errors as personal sleights…as if their mistake was my failing.  However,  I was fortunate enough to have managers who gave me lots of “constructive” feedback and while it may not have felt good in the moment, I look back on that criticism as a gift.  By pointing out where I made a mistake, all they really did was put a sharp point on something I already knew — but didn’t yet have the courage to acknowledge. Their input forced me to see that I could do better and furthermore, forced me to choose between trying to correct my mistakes or ignoring them and hoping no one else would notice.

This morning, the nine-year-old was telling his brother about the basketball game and good naturedly said “I stunk up the court…but that’s the last time I’ll do that this season,” and bounced into breakfast singing Miley Cyrus’ “Nobody’s Perfect.”  Message heard? We’ll see.

This day, seven years ago, I sat on the train to work thinking about the cupcakes and goody bags I needed to finalize for my 5 year old’s birthday party that coming Saturday.  I had “call the snake guy to tell him it will be 10 kids not 8″ on my to-do list.  And then, the joyfully mundane changed forever.  Suffice it to say, the birthday party went on, with 3 fewer kids — they each lost a Dad — but nothing else remained the same.

It’s not just about the extra time at the airport or that underlying sense of vulnerability that crops up if you listen to the news or talk radio for too long, it’s the feeling that every day matters.  I don’t think that it’s a coincidence that I became better at prioritizing work and life at about that time. Yes, life got busier.  In addition to the 5 year old, there was a 2 year old but frankly, it was more about the desire to be with them because — you never know when you might not be able to be with them.

I’ve watched my friends — more personally and profoundly touched by 9/11 — find ways to balance and juggle and move on with grace to give their children security and find joy for themselves. Unwitting role models, they also have impacted how I manage my day-to-day and balance what matters with what doesn’t.  They have changed the way i live my life as much as anthing that happened in the skies that day seven years ago.

I know that on this anniversary day, I woke up with much the same to-do list on my mind as I did on that fateful morning.  He’s 12 not 5 but there’s still a party to be planned and a cake to be picked up.  There’s a long to-do list at work and meetings that I know will last longer than what’s on my calendar. I’m wondering when i’ll be able to squeeze in getting party things done. 

But, that’s not all that’s on my mind.  I’m remembering that day 7 years ago — and I’m certain I am not alone in my thoughts and rememberances.

So, answer this…is there a reason why New York Times didn’t think it worth covering except with an editorial about the politics over the constructon on the memorial site?  I’m not sure that day taught them much of anything at all about what really matters.

Every workplace should have a “first day of school.”  A day when everyone comes in bright and shiny and eager to do their best.  Ready to make new friends.  Pencils new and sharpened.  Work spaces organized and fresh.  Everyone dressed in their favorite new outfit.

Imagine if after that “first day” work day, people buckled down to their new project intent on delivering their very best work the way my 7th grader attacked his first reading assignment today. 

Imagine if everyone rushed home to tell their families about this great new colleague they are going to work with on a great new assignment like my 4th grader did today after realizing that most of his class were kids he’d never really gotten to know in the past.  But, boy was he excited about those new friends!  He was designing kick-ball games and recess football with each of their attributes in mind!

Imagine if after that “first day” work day colleagues came to work the next day with assignments done ahead of schedule, eager to start the next — yes, that 7th grade life sciences poster is done! It’s not due until Monday ?!? 

Yes, I know.  Even if we could have that “first day” work day, it wouldn’t last, just like my children’s extremely eager — and somewhat strange — behavior won’t last either.  But, it sure is infectious.  After all, I’ve written twice in two days — and that’s never happened!

That’s the question that the media says that lots of moms are asking about Sarah Palin?  After all, she’s got 5 children, one of whom is a pregnant teenager and another, a relative newborn with special needs. 

But you kow what’s funny, I talked with lot of women about Sarah Palin this weekend and this is not the question we focused on.  We talked about her level of experience  We talked about how “relatable” she is.  We talked about her speaking ability and her level of foreign policy know-how.  But, we never talked about how she’d juggle the job and family. 

What kind of question is that, anyway?  Haven’t we proven that we can run companies, govern, fight crime, heal the sick, etc. without it resulting in maladjusted, neglected families? Has anyone asked Barak Obama that question?  After all, he has two young girls too.

How outraged would we be if that question was asked of a female colleague coming back from maternity leave? In fact, it’s a question that’s not ever voiced officially in the workplace because it’s not politically or human resources correct to do so. 

Granted, few of us are juggling motherhood and the vice presidency of a country but I venture to guess Ms. Palin won’t be cleaning the vice president’s mansion or doing the grocery shopping or baking cupcakes for the class party either.  And, yes, she might miss a few of those PTA meetings that played so heavily into the evolution of her political career.  But, so do I…and my kids do just fine.

And, while most of my working mother friends, not to mention I, have never had to juggle home and national security, we all have had the client crisis that made us choose between the pull of home and the pull of  work. 

We all have had to find a way to be there and here at the same time without either place feeling a loss of our presence. 

We all have mastered the multitask and some of us have even figured out how to do all of that and keep the roots to a 1/2-inch.

And, never mind how adept we are at finding the shortest route between here and there so that business trips are effective but not even a blip on the family radar.

So, maybe as we’re thinking about what to expect — or not expect — from Ms. Palin, we should rewrite the questions.    It’s less about “how is she going to do it?” and more “how much of what we need can she do?”