Over more than 20 years in clinical research, I have learned that while science moves trials forward, people carry them forward.
Yet long before I entered the field and worked alongside patients, physicians, nurses, and clinical research teams, I learned something important from my parents.
Like many children, I wanted to make them proud. Whenever I accomplished something, even something small, they noticed. A good grade. Helping someone. Trying my best.
Their words were simple.
“Good job.”
“We are proud of you.”
I always carried those moments with me. They reminded me that effort matters and that people thrive when they feel seen.
Looking back, I realize my parents were giving me much more than praise. They were giving me confidence. They were teaching me that effort matters, that kindness matters, and that people flourish when they feel seen. Decades later, those lessons still guide me—not only as a professional, but as a mother.
Today, I find myself passing those lessons on to my daughter.
I make a conscious effort to tell her when I am proud of her—not only when she achieves something significant, but when she demonstrates kindness, resilience, integrity, or simply does her best. I want her to understand that success is not measured only by outcomes. It is also measured by effort, character, and the courage to keep going.
As I grew older, I found myself doing the same thing with the people around me. With friends and colleagues, I learned that a few sincere words of appreciation can have a lasting impact.
We often underestimate the power of a simple “thank you” or “I appreciate you.” Yet those words can reinforce confidence, strengthen relationships, and remind people that their efforts matter.
Over the years, I have witnessed this lesson repeat itself in some of the most meaningful places imaginable.
I have seen it in clinical research.
And I have seen it in some of the most difficult moments of people’s lives.
One of the most meaningful traditions in many cancer centers is the ringing of a bell after a patient completes treatment.
To someone walking by, it may seem like a simple gesture.
To those who understand the journey, it means much more.
That bell is not simply about finishing treatment.
It is about recognition.
Recognition of the patient who showed up appointment after appointment despite fear, uncertainty, exhaustion, and discomfort.
Recognition of the family members who sat beside their loved ones for countless hours, offering encouragement, comfort, and strength.
Recognition of the nurses who cared for them, answered questions, and guided them through difficult days.
Recognition of the physicians, pharmacists, research coordinators, clinical research nurses, and healthcare professionals whose work often takes place quietly behind the scenes.
For a brief moment, that bell acknowledges something deeply human: the courage it took to get there.
Throughout my career, I have had the privilege of working alongside remarkable teams. Doctors. Nurses. Study coordinators. Clinical research professionals. Individuals whose names may never appear in headlines but whose contributions make a profound difference in the lives of patients.
I have watched study coordinators stay late to ensure every detail was documented correctly.
I have watched nurses advocate fiercely for patients while balancing responsibilities most people never see.
I have watched teams overcome obstacles, solve problems, and continue moving forward because they understood that patients were depending on them.
And I have learned that sometimes the smallest acts of recognition have the greatest impact.
Recently, after presenting at a professional meeting, I received a brief note from one of our leaders recognizing the presentation I had done.
It was simply a few thoughtful words. Yet those words stayed with me. Not because they celebrated perfection. But because they acknowledged effort. They reminded me that what I do matters. And they inspired me to continue striving to do even better.
In clinical research, in parenting, and in life, we spend so much time focusing on what still needs to be done that we sometimes forget to acknowledge what has already been accomplished.
Yet people remember those moments. They remember who encouraged them. They remember who noticed their effort. They remember who made them feel seen.
I saw it in my parents when they celebrated small victories that seemed insignificant at the time but stayed with me for decades.
I see it today when I tell my daughter that I am proud of her—not only for what she accomplishes, but for the person she is becoming.
I see it in patients facing difficult journeys, in families standing beside loved ones, and in the healthcare professionals who show up every day to care for others.
Life gives us countless opportunities to recognize one another. Most take only a few seconds—a thank you, a kind word, a note of appreciation, a reminder that someone’s effort mattered.
Yet those moments often stay with us far longer than we realize. Perhaps that is because recognition is not simply about celebrating accomplishments; it is about honoring the courage it took to get there.
—
iStock image
