Families, Systems, & Health 2015, Vol. 33, No. 1, 3– 4
© 2015 American Psychological Association 1091-7527/15/$12.00 http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/fsh0000104
SPECIAL ARTICLE: IN MEMORIAM
Donald A. Bloch, MD: A Remembrance David B. Seaburn, PhD, LMFT
This document is copyrighted by the American Psychological Association or one of its allied publishers. This article is intended solely for the personal use of the individual user and is not to be disseminated broadly.
University of Rochester Medical Center
When someone dies, the world, or at least a representative portion of it, should stop, take note, weep, give thanks, and then measure the influence of that life on those it has touched so that moving forward is made more meaningful. The people who have contributed to this remembrance of Don Bloch might agree that such witnessing would be better done around a beautifully set table full of good food, fine wine, laughter, and stimulating conversation. Were Don present, he would be introducing some to their first mojito, reshaping the thinking of others with his notions about health care integration and the “dual optic,” and simultaneously inviting the ideas of newcomers, always with respect and encouragement. “The fact that something had never been done before was not important data to Don. Was it worth doing? Would it be fun? Would we learn something about people and systems that we didn’t know before? ‘Give it a shot. I’ll bet you can make it work’” (Blount). Don Bloch was a visionary and an innovator who chose collaboration as his primary methodology for creating change. He introduced us to the “dual optic,” in which “Dr. Biomedicine” and “Dr. Psychosocial” work hand in hand with the patient and family. This idea, one of the bedrock concepts in collaborative family health care, was novel at its inception. “I remember
that I argued with him for years about whether there really needed to be more than one person [providing care] before realizing he was right” (McDaniel). Perhaps the “dual optic” was such a natural fit for Don because it reflected who he was as a person. He was a connector, a gatherer, a “linchpin” (Sluzki). One opinion was never enough. Inclusiveness was a hallmark of how he approached every endeavor. In fact, including others was valued in and of itself. He had the “ability to bring out gifts in others. He listened, found out what was important to people, nurtured them along, and helped them connect with others” (Hepworth). He understood that by gathering people together for conversation “ideas would build on each other to create a synergistic product” (Mauksch). And he always welcomed “people from the other end of the ideological spectrum” (Doherty). Although words like “generous, friendly, supportive” (Sluzki), “gracious . . . inviting” (Mauksch), “warm and giving” (Campbell) capture a common description of Don, he was equally determined, confident, and forceful. Even a little intimidating in an inspiring sort of way: When I first met him “I couldn’t tell if he was God or Moses” (Blount). He loved to “grapple” (Ransom) and could be “simultaneously challenging and supportive” (Baird). But he never behaved as if he had come down from a mountain, clay tablets in hand. His style of leadership was more like a march toward the future arm-in-arm with those who were inspired to go with him. Alexander Blount, remembering a project during Don’s tenure as director of the Ackerman Institute: “Don and I drove up to Harlem to look at a hospital where we hoped to work. He was looking at buildings. What location would make a good integrated clinic? I realized our afternoon was all based on enthusiasm and dreams. He was far ahead in his
David B. Seaburn, PhD, LMFT, Departments of Psychiatry and Family Medicine, University of Rochester Medical Center. The Editors thank the following for their warm recollections of Don, their good friend and colleague: Macaran Baird, MD, MS; Alexander Blount, EdD; Thomas Campbell, MD; William J. Doherty, PhD; Celia Falicov, PhD; Jeri Hepworth, PhD; Larry Mauksch, MEd; Susan H. McDaniel, PhD; Donald C. Ransom, PhD; John Rolland, MD; Carlos Sluzki, MD. Correspondence concerning this article should be addressed to David B. Seaburn, PhD, LMFT, 30 Bauers Cove, Spencerport, NY 14559. E-mail: [email protected] 3
This document is copyrighted by the American Psychological Association or one of its allied publishers. This article is intended solely for the personal use of the individual user and is not to be disseminated broadly.
4
SEABURN
visioning, like a teenager that wanted you to see the car he was saving up for.” In addition to being a visionary, Don was an “architect/urban planner” (Falicov), who helped build communities and coalitions that promoted new ideas and championed novel initiatives. He was one of the founders of Family Systems Medicine (now Families, Systems, and Health), which is the field’s vanguard journal. When the Berlin Wall came down, Don reached out immediately to help organize the first Eastern European Family Therapy Conference in Prague (1989; Falicov). In 1993 at the Society of Teachers of Family Medicine, Family in Family Medicine Conference, Don invited a group of us to his condominium to talk about the future of collaborative approaches to health care. Many ideas were spawned in that meeting, chief among them the proposal to convene a thinktank conference to plan our next steps. Led by Don (who somehow got the Johnson Foundation to fund it), we gathered for the Wingspread Conference in Racine, Wisc. (January 1994). Many collaborative initiatives grew out of that meeting, including the Collaborative Family Healthcare Coalition (now Association). In the 20 years since its inception, this organization has been a beacon for the field, doing on a grander scale what Don had been doing for years— connecting people, generating new ideas, supporting program development and evaluation, and providing a welcoming home for professionals in what is still a fledgling field. Don’s most lasting contribution to the field and its future may have been as a “talent scout” (McDaniel). He recognized potential in others, often before they recognized it themselves. As Susan McDaniel said, “He communicated confidence and belief in me and my ideas that I didn’t always have myself.” He then guided and nurtured his new friends and colleagues in directions they might not have envisioned before. John Rolland recalls his first encounter with Don: As a postdoctoral fellow at Yale I was required to write a paper. I submitted that paper to Family Systems
Medicine in 1984. . . . Eating breakfast one morning, I got a call from Don [editor of the journal at the time]. This alone took me by surprise. He said that he was very interested in the ideas in the paper and wanted to go over a few things. . . . He began by suggesting that I add the word “Toward” to the submitted title “A Typology of Chronic and Life-Threatening Illness.” I thought, “Great, he hasn’t even gotten to the first word [of the paper] and he’s already correcting me. I knew that I should never have tried to write or submit a paper.” Somewhat demoralized, I murmured, “What’s next?” Don said: “That’s it. I think that this is an important contribution to the field. Congratulations, John! I look forward to seeing your next paper.” I knew that he was being fully genuine and affirming. My whole perspective and hopes about writing shifted in that moment. He opened the door for me in families and health.
I also have fond recollections of Don. I think I was most impressed with a childlike quality that I could see sometimes in his eyes. It was expressed through his curiosity and inquisitiveness, his fearlessness and tenacity, his willingness to try, to fall down, to get up again, take one step, then another, and another, until he got to where he wanted to go. There was a joyousness in how he approached life. In his autobiography, Report to Greco, Nikos Kazantzakis (Kazantzakis, 1965) recalls that when he was a boy his father gave him a canary and a revolving globe. Nikos would open the cage and let the bird go free. The canary “developed the habit of sitting at the very top of the globe and singing for hours and hours, while I held my breath and listened” (p. 39). Everyone who has contributed their thoughts to this remembrance is grateful that Don sat atop our world for a time and sang so crisply, so clearly, that we will hear his voice for long years to come.
Reference Kazantzakis, N. (1965). Report to Greco. New York, NY: Random House. Received December 9, 2014 Accepted December 9, 2014 䡲
© 2015 American Psychological Association 1091-7527/15/$12.00 http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/fsh0000104
SPECIAL ARTICLE: IN MEMORIAM
Donald A. Bloch, MD: A Remembrance David B. Seaburn, PhD, LMFT
This document is copyrighted by the American Psychological Association or one of its allied publishers. This article is intended solely for the personal use of the individual user and is not to be disseminated broadly.
University of Rochester Medical Center
When someone dies, the world, or at least a representative portion of it, should stop, take note, weep, give thanks, and then measure the influence of that life on those it has touched so that moving forward is made more meaningful. The people who have contributed to this remembrance of Don Bloch might agree that such witnessing would be better done around a beautifully set table full of good food, fine wine, laughter, and stimulating conversation. Were Don present, he would be introducing some to their first mojito, reshaping the thinking of others with his notions about health care integration and the “dual optic,” and simultaneously inviting the ideas of newcomers, always with respect and encouragement. “The fact that something had never been done before was not important data to Don. Was it worth doing? Would it be fun? Would we learn something about people and systems that we didn’t know before? ‘Give it a shot. I’ll bet you can make it work’” (Blount). Don Bloch was a visionary and an innovator who chose collaboration as his primary methodology for creating change. He introduced us to the “dual optic,” in which “Dr. Biomedicine” and “Dr. Psychosocial” work hand in hand with the patient and family. This idea, one of the bedrock concepts in collaborative family health care, was novel at its inception. “I remember
that I argued with him for years about whether there really needed to be more than one person [providing care] before realizing he was right” (McDaniel). Perhaps the “dual optic” was such a natural fit for Don because it reflected who he was as a person. He was a connector, a gatherer, a “linchpin” (Sluzki). One opinion was never enough. Inclusiveness was a hallmark of how he approached every endeavor. In fact, including others was valued in and of itself. He had the “ability to bring out gifts in others. He listened, found out what was important to people, nurtured them along, and helped them connect with others” (Hepworth). He understood that by gathering people together for conversation “ideas would build on each other to create a synergistic product” (Mauksch). And he always welcomed “people from the other end of the ideological spectrum” (Doherty). Although words like “generous, friendly, supportive” (Sluzki), “gracious . . . inviting” (Mauksch), “warm and giving” (Campbell) capture a common description of Don, he was equally determined, confident, and forceful. Even a little intimidating in an inspiring sort of way: When I first met him “I couldn’t tell if he was God or Moses” (Blount). He loved to “grapple” (Ransom) and could be “simultaneously challenging and supportive” (Baird). But he never behaved as if he had come down from a mountain, clay tablets in hand. His style of leadership was more like a march toward the future arm-in-arm with those who were inspired to go with him. Alexander Blount, remembering a project during Don’s tenure as director of the Ackerman Institute: “Don and I drove up to Harlem to look at a hospital where we hoped to work. He was looking at buildings. What location would make a good integrated clinic? I realized our afternoon was all based on enthusiasm and dreams. He was far ahead in his
David B. Seaburn, PhD, LMFT, Departments of Psychiatry and Family Medicine, University of Rochester Medical Center. The Editors thank the following for their warm recollections of Don, their good friend and colleague: Macaran Baird, MD, MS; Alexander Blount, EdD; Thomas Campbell, MD; William J. Doherty, PhD; Celia Falicov, PhD; Jeri Hepworth, PhD; Larry Mauksch, MEd; Susan H. McDaniel, PhD; Donald C. Ransom, PhD; John Rolland, MD; Carlos Sluzki, MD. Correspondence concerning this article should be addressed to David B. Seaburn, PhD, LMFT, 30 Bauers Cove, Spencerport, NY 14559. E-mail: [email protected] 3
This document is copyrighted by the American Psychological Association or one of its allied publishers. This article is intended solely for the personal use of the individual user and is not to be disseminated broadly.
4
SEABURN
visioning, like a teenager that wanted you to see the car he was saving up for.” In addition to being a visionary, Don was an “architect/urban planner” (Falicov), who helped build communities and coalitions that promoted new ideas and championed novel initiatives. He was one of the founders of Family Systems Medicine (now Families, Systems, and Health), which is the field’s vanguard journal. When the Berlin Wall came down, Don reached out immediately to help organize the first Eastern European Family Therapy Conference in Prague (1989; Falicov). In 1993 at the Society of Teachers of Family Medicine, Family in Family Medicine Conference, Don invited a group of us to his condominium to talk about the future of collaborative approaches to health care. Many ideas were spawned in that meeting, chief among them the proposal to convene a thinktank conference to plan our next steps. Led by Don (who somehow got the Johnson Foundation to fund it), we gathered for the Wingspread Conference in Racine, Wisc. (January 1994). Many collaborative initiatives grew out of that meeting, including the Collaborative Family Healthcare Coalition (now Association). In the 20 years since its inception, this organization has been a beacon for the field, doing on a grander scale what Don had been doing for years— connecting people, generating new ideas, supporting program development and evaluation, and providing a welcoming home for professionals in what is still a fledgling field. Don’s most lasting contribution to the field and its future may have been as a “talent scout” (McDaniel). He recognized potential in others, often before they recognized it themselves. As Susan McDaniel said, “He communicated confidence and belief in me and my ideas that I didn’t always have myself.” He then guided and nurtured his new friends and colleagues in directions they might not have envisioned before. John Rolland recalls his first encounter with Don: As a postdoctoral fellow at Yale I was required to write a paper. I submitted that paper to Family Systems
Medicine in 1984. . . . Eating breakfast one morning, I got a call from Don [editor of the journal at the time]. This alone took me by surprise. He said that he was very interested in the ideas in the paper and wanted to go over a few things. . . . He began by suggesting that I add the word “Toward” to the submitted title “A Typology of Chronic and Life-Threatening Illness.” I thought, “Great, he hasn’t even gotten to the first word [of the paper] and he’s already correcting me. I knew that I should never have tried to write or submit a paper.” Somewhat demoralized, I murmured, “What’s next?” Don said: “That’s it. I think that this is an important contribution to the field. Congratulations, John! I look forward to seeing your next paper.” I knew that he was being fully genuine and affirming. My whole perspective and hopes about writing shifted in that moment. He opened the door for me in families and health.
I also have fond recollections of Don. I think I was most impressed with a childlike quality that I could see sometimes in his eyes. It was expressed through his curiosity and inquisitiveness, his fearlessness and tenacity, his willingness to try, to fall down, to get up again, take one step, then another, and another, until he got to where he wanted to go. There was a joyousness in how he approached life. In his autobiography, Report to Greco, Nikos Kazantzakis (Kazantzakis, 1965) recalls that when he was a boy his father gave him a canary and a revolving globe. Nikos would open the cage and let the bird go free. The canary “developed the habit of sitting at the very top of the globe and singing for hours and hours, while I held my breath and listened” (p. 39). Everyone who has contributed their thoughts to this remembrance is grateful that Don sat atop our world for a time and sang so crisply, so clearly, that we will hear his voice for long years to come.
Reference Kazantzakis, N. (1965). Report to Greco. New York, NY: Random House. Received December 9, 2014 Accepted December 9, 2014 䡲
