In Good Company

Jeffrey S. Flier paints a picture of a medical school. 

The following was adapted from former Dean Flier's remarks on September 28 at an event celebrating the unveiling of his official dean's portrait.

During my nine years as HMS dean, I had the honor of presiding over hundreds of academic and social events in the Waterhouse Room, always under the watchful eyes, through their portraits, of my predecessors and other HMS luminaries. The thought that my portrait now hangs among these, allowing me, at least symbolically, to watch over the School that I love, is very, very meaningful to me, in a manner that exceeds my ability to articulate.

I have always been a history buff, and HMS is one of my amateur historian’s attention, so a brief word about this room where the portrait hangs may be in order. This campus and building opened in 1906, as the sixth site for the School that began its life in Harvard Yard in 1782, as the third medical school established in America. This room, the Waterhouse Room, in what was then and is still today the School’s administration building, originally served as the library. Now it is named for Benjamin Waterhouse, whose portrait hangs here, one of the three founding HMS professors. Waterhouse was best known for introducing smallpox vaccination to America.

Oliver Wendell Holmes, whose portrait also hangs in this room, was the sixth HMS dean (1847-1853). Holmes was a famous physician and anatomist, but was also a highly acclaimed poet, writer, and one of the founders of the Atlantic Monthly.

He was the first to use the terms Boston Brahmin and anesthesia, and he was the man who famously stated that if all known therapeutics were thrown overboard it would be better for man, and worse for the fishes. He also struggled over policies that for many years prevented admission of women and African Americans to HMS, and the way he conducted himself on those matters was one of his life’s greatest regrets. He was also the father of the famous jurist Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. In a speech that the senior Holmes gave on the 100th anniversary of the founding of HMS, an incredibly insightful reflection on the past and future of medicine, he mentioned that Dr. Waterhouse actually vaccinated him when he was a child.

Serving as dean of HMS has always been a tough job, although the challenges faced by each dean have evolved with the times. I always wondered whether, in the evenings, after all the meetings were over, and the lights were dimmed, the former deans emerged from their canvases, perhaps glowing a bit in the dark as in a Harry Potter movie, to exchange ideas and perhaps to criticize the mistakes of the sitting dean. Well, if they do, and I hope they do, I’d be happy if my “portrait-self” would join them.

I want to offer my most sincere thanks to Burt Silverman, the portrait artist who I commissioned. I had seen Burt’s work over the years without knowing it, through the many covers of Time magazine and New Yorker profile drawings that he created. I chose Burt after months of consideration, during which I was impressed by the quality and integrity of his work in his portraits and his other wonderful paintings and drawings, as well as by his engaging personality.

Sitting for a portrait is a difficult task, especially if it is intended to eventually hang in this room. During the course of four sittings, at HMS and at his New York studio, I learned a lot about him, as he did about me. I could see the way he tried to understand me as a person, and to have that understanding reflected in his portrait. I am extremely happy that I chose Burt to do my portrait.

I’d like to thank the speakers today—Lee Nadler, who has worked with me tirelessly from before my official term as dean began, and who has been a source of energy and insight in so many ways, and Joshua Boger, who has been a key institutional leader, advisor and friend through his role with the Board of Fellows. I am privileged to consider you both as friends, and look forward to that continuing into the future.

Thanks also to the many family, friends, colleagues and supporters of the School who are here today.

Without my wife and colleague, Terry Maratos-Flier, I simply couldn’t have succeeded as dean to the extent that I did.

Thanks to my many colleagues—the fantastic academic and administrative leaders whose efforts and dedication make the school run. I’d like to call out Susan Dale, my chief of staff, and my administrative assistant, Judi Geier, for their dedication and support to HMS and to me.

Thanks to Lisa Boudreau and her spectacular team from the Office of Resource Development, who arranged this event in typically perfect style.

And to Barbara McNeil—with whom I have worked successfully as a department chair during my deanship, and who is now serving as acting dean. Thank you, Barbara, for your service.

And finally, thanks to George Daley, who will be my successor as dean. I hope to keep the wall warm for your future portrait, which I hope will be unveiled no less than 10 years from now, after what I know will be a brilliant term as the 22nd dean of the Faculty of Medicine!

Thank you all for coming today. And rest assured, I will be watching you!