I was recently asked to write a letter of recommendation for one of my former clinical research coordinators—a young professional I had the privilege of working with for nearly two years. What I expected to be a routine task turned into something much more meaningful. It was an opportunity to pause, reflect, and appreciate the evolution—not just of someone else’s career, but of my own journey alongside theirs.
When CM first joined our team, she was new to oncology and new to research. She entered cautiously, wide-eyed, and unsure, but eager. And like many who are new to our fast-paced, complex world of clinical trials, she was quickly thrown into the deep end. But that’s where the growth begins. I watched her go from learning protocols and assessing eligibility criteria to confidently managing patients on multi-phase investigational treatments—handling scheduling, testing, documentation, and communication across multiple teams.
I’ll never forget the first time she enrolled a patient on her own. It was a moment that required great attention to detail and an ability to coordinate moving parts across the system. The patient did well. In fact, several patients she supported throughout her time with us thrived on treatment. And through that, CM’s own confidence grew—as did mine in her.
In writing her recommendation, I found myself reflecting not only on her growth, but on my own. As physicians, we’re often so focused on the clinical, the operational, the next patient, the next trial—that we sometimes forget how much development happens around us and within us. Writing this letter became more than a task. It was a moment of nostalgia, of gratitude, and of acknowledgment.
One of the greatest joys of being in academic or clinical leadership is seeing your team members grow—especially when they outgrow the position they started in. I don’t expect people to stay with me forever. In fact, I hope they don’t. Because when they grow, when they move on to industry, to graduate school, to supervisory roles, to new institutions—I know we’ve done something right.
In our clinic and research program, I often talk about the “3 Ps”: People, Process, and Product. Our product is the patient care we deliver. The process is how we get there. But the most important component is always the people. If the process fails, we fix the process—not the person. Because people are learners. They grow. They make mistakes. They improve. And our job as leaders is to support that.
To those reading this who are physicians, mentors, or supervisors: I encourage you to take a moment the next time you’re asked to write a letter. Let it be more than a task. Let it be a pause—to consider the journey, to acknowledge the growth, and to feel the honor of having played even a small part in someone else’s professional path.
To CM—and to all those like her—thank you for reminding me that we are all growing. That while you found your footing, I too was growing perhaps imperfectly right beside you. And that’s the beautiful symmetry of mentorship. Here’s to learning, to teaching, and to always making space for each other’s growth.
About the author
Dr. Sajeve Thomas is a distinguished medical professional and a compassionate guide in the field of oncology. With over a decade of dedicated experience as a board-certified medical oncologist/internal medicine specialist, Dr. Thomas has become a trusted expert in the treatment of melanoma, sarcoma, and gastrointestinal conditions. He brings a wealth of expertise to the complex and challenging world of oncology.
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