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?”

Yesterday was my friend’s birthday — I always remember it because it falls two days before mine.  As is typical with this very busy friend — who used to be my boss — we scheduled a lunch to celebrate our mutual birthdays but, guess what, we had to reschedule.  This time it was my fault — a client need.  But, it could just as easily have gone the other way.  But, here’s what I would have told her had I been able to see her…

I loved working with you…most days.  You were enthusiastic…I mean truly excited about every single opportunity and decision we needed to make.  I didn’t always understand why we needed to care as much about the color of a brochure as we did about a client’s true crisis but you seemed to care equally and passionately about it all.  That passion was infectious.  It kept me on my toes and made me try harder…sometimes, just to impress you!  The days that I didn’t enjoy were more about me being uncertain that I could live up to those expectations.  Yo always seemed to cavalierly believe that people would align behind an idea and achieve success and that I’d be able to get them there.  I just never had the same confidence.  It always seemed so hard to negotiate priorities.  And, frankly, I hated that I might have to compromise to make something work. 

I was thinking about you the other day — birthdays aside — when I was listenting to a colleague’s righteous indignation about a situation in our current workplace.  One that we can handle — through compromise and negotiation — even though we shouldn’t HAVE to handle it that way.  I am certain that the look on my face throughout was exactly how you used to look at me.  Amused tolerance.  You always let me rant about what should be but then took me to an alternate place.  Frankly, it used to drive me crazy!  Why was it so easy for you and so much harder for me to let go of what should be?

Because you didn’t waste your passion on the uncontrollable. 

I think you taught me that by focusing our energy on those things we can impact — the color of the brochure or the content of our counsel to a client — we have reservoirs of passion to unleash on the rest of our lives.  And, when I remember, it’s much more fun your way.

Happy birthday, my friend…many more.   

I read today that in an effort to promote its new fall lines — Dorm Life and Fabulosity — J.C. Penney launched an online game called “DorkDodge,” in which a girl has to get through a throng of not boyfriend material boys to get to her dream date.  Wasn’t this a board game when I was maybe nine?  And the boys weren’t real, as I recall.  I’m a little frightened and very glad I don’t have daughters. 

I have no doubt that some girls will play this game (But high school girls? What about their Dorm Life target? Is that younger than high school? Because, really, I think it’s a middle school and younger group that will actually play) …and it will give the retailer the opportunity to showcase their line to some young group of girls but will it sell clothes?   And if it does sell clothes, what message is it sending?

Here I go getting all Girl Power-ish over what is likely harmless marketing fun but the whole Dream Date as marketing vehicle is uncomfortable to me.  I’d like to think about girls looking for Dream Careers or Dream Causes or …well Dreams.  And, what message are we sending when the oppsite of Dream Date is Dork.  It will be interesting to see what the retailer defines as Dork.

There are so many uplifting and empowering “games” that could have been offered.  Some of them could actually be fun – and put girls on the right path– a path not solely defined by buying clothes that some boy might like.  Imagine an online game themed “World Peace for a Day” that let her try on different political perspectives to see their impact on current world issues…

Or “The Online Game of Life,” a game that let her choose two paths so she could see potential outcomes of her life decisions.  I wish the retailer had thought of games that would teach girls about their power beyond their sexuality and about buying clothes that make them feel like their very best selves…which hopefully they can discover when not dodging Dorks.

As some of you know, I am in the market for a new pediatrician.  It seems that when you are having the baby, the resources and referrals to find the baby’s doctor are everywhere.  Your ob/gyn refers, the hospital at which you deliver refers and friends and family refer.  But now, I’m finding that it’s difficult to know where and how to shop for a doc.  The problem is that I’m seeking the kind of “family doctor” I had with my original pediatrician — one who is always there for you, watched the boys grow up, knows their interests, their personalities, etc.  I’m also struggling with whether it’s a pediatrician I’m seeking, or knowing that the boys are on the brink of adolescence, an adolescent medicine specialist or just a family physician who the boys can see into perpetuity — except one child isn’t yet 10 and needs some of that pediatric care.   It’s a dilemma fueled a bit by the fact that I know too much about the healthcare system and know too well all the options before me.  I truly long for the days when there were a handful of doctors in a town and every one went to one of them! And, everyone had an opinion as to who you should see. Much simpler.  Ironically, when we needed an orthodontist, everyone we spoke with had a recommendation.  Not so the pediatrician.  Strange.

So, I’m mulling this dilemma in my head on my way to work this morning because I know we have to get camp medical forms completed.  I’m listening to NPR and there’s an interview with a physician and a consumer advocate about how to use physician and hospital ranking information to choose your medical care.  I’m waiting for them to tell me the things to look for — or even where to look — to no avail.  But, when I got to work I looked up one of the people being interviewed and her organization, Americans for Quality Care www.qualitycarenow.org, a group associated with the National Partnership for Women and Families and funded in part by the Robert Woods Johnson Foundation.  The site is interesting.  It certainly makes the case for why we should comparison shop, showcasing that more people die from medical mistakes than breast cancer!  But, it is a little short on help.  I visited the resources listed to try and find some of the doctors recommended to me….unfortunately, I learned little.  You see, not all states have to list information on the public databases.  New Jersey doesn’t.  So, I went on the New Jersey site.  I found my former pediatrician.  The good news is that she has no complaints to the accreditation board.  Of course, no where does it mention that she’s deceased, either.  The Americans for Quality Care would be doing us a service if they had simple checklists that outlined things to look for in a physician and compared that with the metrics  that inform the quality rankings.  Honestly, I know a bit about the quality rankings and found the information on the site a bit confusing…what about those for whom this is new information?

There are physician ranking sites to consider such as www.vitals.com (full disclosure, they are a client of the my employer).  These sites aggregate information from the public records and databases that provide quality rankings.  Some allow you, the consumer of health services, to provide information about a physician based on your own experience.  While this is highly subjective information, I’m beginning to feel like it’s critical that we as patients and consumers of healthcare populate such sites with whatever information — good or bad — we can share with each other.

We have no problem recommending restaurants, pre-schools or hair stylists but tend to be reticent to recommend health professionals.  I understand why — there’s so much  more at stake. And yet, that’s exactly why we should.

I’m really disappointed that the Democratic primary has come down to a perceived question of gender.  Some in the Clinton camp are claiming that gender bias is the stumbling block and I have no doubt that if the Obama campaign were in a similar place, race would be considered the stumbling block.  And, maybe I’m naive and gender and race really are the issues…but I don’t think so.  I think it’s easier to cry bias than it is to look at one’s mistakes.

Throughout my career, I’ve heard women bemoan the act that they didn’t get a promotion or job because they weren’t men.  It was not unusual for me to be familiar with the quality of their work and leadership and could see that being a woman had nothing to do with their lack of advancement.  There was always something else to point to as a barrier to their growth.

Sadly, I have used that excuse myself when I didn’t get promotions or positions I thought I deserved.  But, later in the harsh light of self-reflection realized that perhaps it wasn’t my gender that was the barrier but how I handled certain situations…a certain level of directness or lack of tact that may have had my managers concerned about my ability to lead.

Now, some would say, “but if you were a man, that lack of tact would be okay.”  Maybe.  Maybe not.  I know many men who have not achieved leadership positions because of that very issue. I also know men who are tactless but brilliant leaders, successful because of their ability to lead despite their lack of diplomacy.  It’s never quite that clear cut.

Yes, I know gender bias happens.  Just like racial bias happens.  But, there’s lots of progress.  Today’s New York Times Economic Scene column Economic Scene: A Diploma’s Worth? Ask Her talks about how women have closed and even surpassed the educational gap and through that continue to close the pay gap.  The article also talks about the fact that the pay gap may not be entirely reflective of gender…women after all, are still more likely to choose jobs that offer flexibility to enable them to be available for child care (not always by choice, but often by choice).   So the gender gap is there but not entirely because of gender.

Bias exists.  Bias can be a barrier.  But, bias is rarely the sole answer to the question “Why not me?”  And, bias can be overcome.

Hard work, sensitivity to others and learning from your mistakes are more likely to garner growth than anything else.  It’s much easier to point to that which we can’t control vs. what we may have been able to do differently when we are disappointed in our aspirations.

So, the next time I’m tempted to think ”it’s because I’m a women” I’ll focus on something far easier to change!

Moms are, generally, multitaskers.  We wrap birthday presents while talking on the phone, work on powerpoint presentations while on conference calls, catch up on emails while listening to tuba concerts missed while traveling (yes, my husband actually recorded the whole concert to my voicemail.)  And, we’re pretty good at the multitask.  So good, that we may have lost some of our ability to focus.  But, I hate to say this, as gifted as we are at the multitask, some of us may be multitasking to procrastinate working through the really hard stuff.  

This weekend, Blue Ranger had the same problem disney.go.com/jetix/powerrangers.   Throughout his life, Blue Ranger had been recognized and rewarded for how much he could get done.  People admired his ability to do well in school, hold down after school jobs and make a mean pizza sauce all while honing his super-hero Power Ranger skills.  However, when the Power Rangers needed his particular skills to defeat the monsters of the moment, he went into big time avoidance mode…by multitasking everything but the thing that required his greatest thought.  The Power Ranger Master (who is a hamster, by the way, through some odd genetic quirk), was losing patience with Blue Ranger.

I found myself feeling sorry for Blue Ranger.  Hamster Master obviously doesn’t understand.  How can one possibly take the time to think through the solutions to the really difficult problems when we have to help with homework, find the jeans that have gone missing, deal with work brought home over the weekend, reorder the books on the book shelf and never mind find time to do something about our roots (the ones on our head, not our ancestors)?

And frankly, I was a little miffed with the Hamster Master when he pointed out that Blue Ranger’s multitasking was getting in the way of putting his energy where it was most needed.  In fact, he made multitasking a metaphor for procrastination (which is a life lesson a 5 year-old needs to learn why?).

But then I stopped looking for the jeans while pretending to do Pilates and grudgingly admitted that maybe Hamster Master had a point.  I thought about the item that never gets crossed off my to-do list and frankly, it’s a big thorny item that requires me to focus, think, do some research and think some more.  It’s been on the to-do list for a long while, because I’ve been “too busy to think.” 

Part of what it requires is that I sit, give some people my full attention and listen with no distractions.    I thought about how I have tried to approach the task in the past…I’d start, then answer the phone.  I’d do web research while on conference calls.  I’d get input from others while working on my blackberry (which is also fairly rude…).  No wonder I never figured out the answer.  No matter how good you are at the multitask, you can’t give something your full attention if you’re doing something else.  Our brains are simply not wired that way.

I’m proud of the Blue Ranger…in the end, he focused and defeated the monsters, earning Hamster Master’s respect and a new belief in his own powers. 

And now, I’ve turned off the phone, stepped away from email and have carved out a full hour to do nothing…so I can cross my monster of the to-do list once and for all.