Eulogy #2: To the Faculty

I've been asked to say some words regarding D and his passing.

I'll begin by simply stating that this a major, a major loss for the international research community, for our university, our faculty, our discipline, and for our research unit.

To me, and for others here today, this also represents the loss of a mentor, and of a dear friend.

And that's it, that's as far as my words go, because I actually have the luxury of using D's words.

I have this luxury because I spent two long morning sessions with D, one session two days before his death, and another a week prior.

And we discussed this very event.

What did he want said on his behalf? What did he want you, as a faculty, to know about him, and about ourselves?

In regards to D himself, he wanted you to know that aside from the battles, and some of them acrimonious, he wanted you to know that he respected you.

And not that he respected your ideas, your work, or your discipline, but that he respected you as a human being.

Few people know that D fought tirelessly to have this faculty formally recognized as a place of diversity, specifically in terms of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered issues. Yet he wanted this respect for diversity to extend to everyone and to everything.

D knew that he was a marginal character, and that's what gave him the strength to so steadfastly push for change.

In him, we had that old adage that someone is often more appreciated far from their home, than they are at home.

D was nothing short of a giant in dental research, and while many of us knew this, he was not loved and appreciated as he should have been.

Although he would not admit to it, I'd argue that this wounded him deeply; why else would he have wanted me to speak of it?

Very few of us could say that we influenced our own disciplines the way he did. Very few of us can claim to have authored the innumerable articles, book chapters, conference symposia, and have received the level of funding and achievements that D did.

In short, he wanted you to take a close look around and to understand that this is your academic family. It was his academic family. You must appreciate each other, and like any family, it must be made to work. It must be made to work because the fruits of that labour are arguably sweeter than most.

And it must be made to work not just for us, but for our students, those that we teach, those that adopt our habits, and carry them forward locally, nationally, and internationally.

And that brought D to his last point.

What did he want you to know about yourselves, ourselves, about this family?

First, he wanted me to tell the basic scientists that you must make your research relevant to the clinic, as far as it is possible, and you must look beyond novel drug targets.

And if your work is to advance knowledge for its own sake, even though the application of this knowledge is yet to be discovered, then you should state it as such, and be confident in this, there is beauty here.

In terms of application, he felt that much needed to be done in order to bridge the gap between the basic, clinical, and population-based sciences. He felt strongly that all of us need to engage each other more fully; and even if it is just at our weekly seminars meeting!

Thus, in terms of the future, D felt that translational researchers should be strongly and actively recruited to this faculty.

He then followed with the clinical sciences. As many of you know, D worked tirelessly over the last two years to demarcate a difference between a clinical masters, and a research based masters.

Apart from conforming to new administrative rules, he wanted this change because he felt that the clinical sciences needed to work harder at guaranteeing a broader vision of quality for their research, from its relevance to its supervision.

While D felt that he had many shortcomings here as well, and while he still had much to do as an associate dean in this regard, he finished his career understanding that guaranteeing the quality of our student's research is the truest and most generous gift we can give them.

Ultimately, in that last morning when he and I talked about his life, about what he wanted said, I feel that he was trying to help us define how and in what form we should train clinicians and scientists.

Noting that this was a 'peculiar passion' to develop at the end of his life, it was nonetheless a passion that he has asked us to continue with an excellence of purpose and commitment.

I will now ask you to stand and observe a brief moment of silence for D.

Thank you.