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Many Children’s Hospital Boston doctors can’t picture the hospital without Bob Masland, MD, former director of Adolescent Medicine. And for good reason: He’s worked here longer than all of them. But they’ll be happy to know that he’s not hanging up his white coat just yet: While he’s semi-retiring this month, he’ll stay on in an emeritus capacity with the Department of Medicine and retain his Harvard Medical School duties, where he advises medical students and sits on the admissions committee.
Masland joined Children’s adolescent unit in 1954, shortly after it opened, with the intention of staying for a year. "I thought I’d see what this adolescent medicine was all about," Masland says in his deliberate, thoughtful manner. "I found I liked taking care of this age group. A lot of doctors didn’t like caring for adolescents. They thought they had too many problems and were too complicated. But I kind of liked being with a group that nobody wanted to take care of."
When Masland joined the unit, either he or one of two other doctors were assigned to each patient and oversaw all of their care while treating many of them for learning problems and behavioral issues. The personalized structure allowed him to get to know each teenager. And the patients appreciated Masland’s easy-going style and the way he related to them. Masland knew that just listening to teenagers’ views could help them far better than doling out advice. "I never studied psychiatry, but you kind of get good at it after awhile," he says. "Doctors like to be in charge and tell patients what to do. But teenagers don’t lend themselves to that very well. I quickly found out that if I shut up, they’d come back better." The teens liked him so well they spread the word among friends, which set up an unofficial teen referral system throughout the Boston community.
Masland’s conviction that he should connect with teenage patients on a personal level stemmed from his own experiences as a young patient. During his undergrad years at Yale, he’d gone to the infirmary with abdominal pain. His physician was unfriendly and presumptuous, dismissing what turned out to be a ruptured appendix as being drunk. That frustrating experience shaped what would become his MO: befriend adolescents and don’t talk down to them. "I don’t think they’re so different than adults," Masland says. "They’re just more entertaining."
From the start, Masland didn’t just move with the times, he was a step ahead. When he became chief of the division, he expanded its reach to be much more inclusive of young women and underprivileged adolescents from low-income neighborhoods. He addressed teens’ changing lifestyles: In the ’60s and ’70s, he was proactive about treating pregnant girls and patients with STDs and substance abuse problems. With all of them, his guiding principle was to never be condescending or give moralistic lectures.
This attitude also won over countless medical students, residents, fellows and clinicians. He’s taken a personal interest in the people he trains, remembering the names of their children and where they went to school while teaching them the art of counseling adolescents. Moreover, he’s helped them get through training and find a career path. "It’s hard being a resident," Masland says. "There are a lot of doctors who pick on you a lot. Residents need someone to listen to them, too."
His waiting room is often full of people at various levels of training, none of whom will make a major career decision without talking to him. Seeking Masland’s advice became such the norm that some residents wouldn’t decide whom to marry and when to have a baby without asking him to weigh in. "He is an incredible confidant and mentor," says Elizabeth Woods, MD, MPH, associate chief of Adolescent Medicine, who’s known Masland since 1982, when she was a fellow. "He helped each of us find our role and path. There’s something in his manner that allows people to talk about their lives and plans and dreams. And he comes at it from a Maslowian perspective—he doesn’t tell you what to do, but helps you figure out what you want."
Over the years, faculty have come to Masland to help them deal with their own teenagers’ behavioral or scholastic problems. "He’s like everyone’s favorite uncle," says Norman Spack, MD, co-director of the Gender Management Service Clinic. "He has the ability to trade seats with you. When you sit with him, he’ll rock way back in his chair in his own self-effacing way and never seems like the bigger presence. He’s the best listener I’ve met in my life and has such a broad view of human nature and such a positivity. He’s the youngest person I know—he’s got the youngest spirit."
While adolescent medicine has changed dramatically over his career, Masland isn’t nostalgic. "It’s a wonderful field, but the research is very limited—as far as I know, there will never be a cure for adolescence," he jokes. "And I’m glad there isn’t. If I had to confine my practice it would have been to 16- to 18-year-old girls. They’re the most exciting people and have all kinds of issues. Then they grow up and take care of themselves. It’s nice. The same goes for residents—you just sort of launch them. I’ve had a great time."
Masland will receive The Children’s Hospital Association Distinguished Service Award at the Blackfan lecture June 3 at noon in Enders Auditorium. This new award is presented by the Alumni Association to recognize individuals who have contributed in extraordinary ways to Children’s and the community.
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