Recently, I had the privilege of attending the Harvard Macy Institute Program for Educators in the Health Professions as a faculty member, and I have returned to my home institution feeling reinvigorated with new ideas and a clearer sense of direction. The experience was intense—long days filled with stimulating sessions, journal clubs and practical breakout groups. The online format was utilized to deliver highly engaging teaching. But it was not just the rigor that left an impact; it was how the program fundamentally shifted how I think about education, both as a learner and as an educator.
One of the most profound takeaways was the chance to question assumptions—about how we teach, how we learn, and even how we live. So often, we approach education with deeply ingrained beliefs, sometimes without even realizing it. This program encouraged us to step back and examine those beliefs critically. Are we teaching in ways that truly foster learning? Are we creating environments where every student, regardless of their background, can thrive? These questions stayed with me long after the session ended.
The program did not just focus on abstract ideas; it provided concrete tools and frameworks that could be applied immediately. At my institution, we are working on a new curriculum for our medical school, so the concept of backwards design—an approach that starts with identifying desired learning outcomes and then works backwards to ensure each course component aligns with those goals—was a true "light bulb" moment.
Another cornerstone of the experience was learning how to cultivate inclusive education. It is easy to say we want to create inclusive classrooms, but how do we make that a reality? This program offered practical strategies for designing learning environments that embrace diversity—not just in theory, but in everyday practice. From incorporating varied perspectives into the curriculum to ensuring that assessments are fair and reflective of different learning styles, I left with a toolkit I am eager to implement.
One of the surprises for me was the practical approach to feedback—not just giving it, but how it is being received as well. We often think of feedback as a one-way street, something we give to students to help them improve. But the course reminded us that feedback is a dialogue and does not have to take long. Effective feedback does not just point out what is wrong; it guides learners toward growth while also helping us, as educators, refine our own approaches. The phrase from one of the participants in the chat “Feedback should be a continuous infusion, not a bolus” is one I will not forget.
Throughout the program, the concept of scholarship was a recurring theme. What does it mean to be a scholar in medical education? For a long time, some people—including myself—imagined scholars as those who conduct research, publish papers, and shape the field from an ivory tower. But the program emphasized that being a scholar is not about titles or accolades; it is about continuous inquiry, reflection, and the drive to improve one’s practice. In that sense, it was affirming to see so many participants realize that they are already scholars.
The best part of the program, however, was not just the new knowledge or the frameworks. It was the people. Collaborating with colleagues from across the globe—each bringing unique perspectives and challenges from their own institutions—was both humbling and energizing. The shared passion for education was palpable. I hope that many of the projects we discussed will transform and thrive thanks to the collective insight of peers. Together, we dissected ideas, provided feedback, and reimagined what’s possible. It was a reminder that the best solutions often emerge from collaboration, and that the power of a shared vision can drive significant change.
Reflecting on all I have learned, the advice to “start small, consolidate, then expand” has stuck with me. It is tempting to want to implement everything at once, to transform systems overnight, but sustainable change happens incrementally. For now, my focus is on making those first small steps—whether it is refining one part of a course or embedding a single new strategy into my teaching. Small changes, when thoughtful and intentional, can ripple outward and create larger waves of transformation.
Looking ahead, I am eager to continue to return as faculty for the program. It is not just about learning new techniques—it is about sharing our journeys and seeing how far we have come. The excitement lies in the possibilities. How can I continue to integrate what I have learned? How can I push the boundaries of what is possible in medical education? The answers will take time, reflection, and small, steady steps. And that is where real, lasting change can begin.
Did you know that the Harvard Macy Institute Community Blog has had more than 400 posts? Previous blog posts have explored topics including designing thinking for your career and life, sink or swim in the digital sea, and how the Harvard Macy Institute changed my life.
Marjel van Dam
