I recently had the opportunity to catch up with a good friend and entrepreneurial colleague the day after she returned from a 35-day international work trip. Her adventure took her to multiple Veterinary events across the globe, and as you might imagine, she was exhausted. But it wasn’t just the travel that had taken a toll.
Before she even boarded her first flight, the venue for a retreat she was leading on the other side of the world canceled on her.
Months of preparation, people traveling internationally to attend, and suddenly the location where everything was supposed to happen was no longer available.
Panic would have been an understandable reaction.
Fortunately, my friend had already made a decision the year before that would prove invaluable. She had hired a virtual assistant to help with her growing business.
Together, they navigated the logistical nightmare and got the event back on track. But as my friend reflected on the experience, it wasn’t just the practical help that made the difference. It was having someone there with her in the mess.
Someone to share the burden, think through the challenges, and remind her that she didn’t have to figure everything out alone.
I’ve been thinking about that conversation quite a bit, particularly as it relates to the Veterinary profession.
A Different Experience of Veterinary Community
One of the stops on my friend’s international adventure was the PAHA Annual Conference in the Philippines. She described an experience unlike anything she had encountered at a Veterinary conference before.
Attendees sang a Veterinary hymn together. They danced to music. They engaged enthusiastically in educational sessions, asking thoughtful questions and participating in discussions. There was pride in being a Veterinary professional, and it was something they celebrated together.
What struck me most was how my friend described feeling as someone visiting from halfway around the world. She felt welcomed, included, and connected. In some ways, she felt a greater sense of belonging in this unfamiliar community than she had experienced recently in her own country. That part of our conversation weighed heavily on me.
My friend is one of the most positive and encouraging people I know. Yet she described feeling increasingly worn down by the complacency, cliques, and political tensions she has encountered within the Veterinary community in the United States. She spoke about the exhausting experience of having to fight to be heard.
And then, halfway around the world, she experienced something different. A community of Veterinary professionals who seemed genuinely excited to be together, learn together, and celebrate the profession they shared.
I don’t think we can generalize an entire country’s professional culture from one conference experience. Nor do I think these challenges are unique to the United States. But sometimes it takes stepping outside our familiar environment to recognize what we’ve stopped noticing.
Her experience made me wonder what we might learn from one another.
Have We Lost Our Pride, or Are We Struggling to Feel That We Belong?
I spend a lot of time thinking about the Veterinary profession as a whole.
Through Vet Life Reimagined, I’ve had the privilege of speaking with more than 200 Veterinary professionals pursuing an incredible variety of careers. Some are clinicians. Others are educators, researchers, entrepreneurs, industry professionals, nonprofit leaders, and people creating roles that didn’t exist when they graduated.
I continue to be amazed by the creativity, dedication, and unique talents within our profession. I see people who care deeply about animal health, the human-animal bond, and making Veterinary medicine better for those who will come after them.
But I also hear stories of people who have struggled to find their place. Sometimes they feel isolated because they’re pursuing a career that doesn’t look like the one they originally imagined. Sometimes they feel undervalued in their current role. Sometimes they are passionate about their work but exhausted by the environment in which they’re doing it.
It makes me wonder whether the question is really about losing pride in Veterinary medicine. Perhaps many of us are still incredibly proud of what we do. We just haven’t always created professional communities where everyone feels they belong. Those are two different things.
A Veterinary technician can be proud of their skills and contributions while feeling undervalued in their workplace. A veterinarian can love clinical medicine while feeling disconnected from the broader profession. Someone pursuing an unconventional career can be excited about their future while wondering whether their colleagues still see them as part of the Veterinary community.
And for those entering the profession today, I wonder how much the stress of the world around us compounds an already demanding transition. There is so much to learn, so much responsibility, and often an expectation that we should already know what we’re doing. How much easier might that transition be if we felt we had people in our corner?
The People Who Open Doors
One of my favorite parts of hosting Vet Life Reimagined is hearing about the people who helped my guests get where they are today. The stories are rarely about someone who had everything figured out from the beginning.
Instead, I hear about the person who took a chance on them. An employer who hired someone without the traditional experience for a role because they recognized their honesty, curiosity, and willingness to learn.
A mentor who noticed that an intern kept gravitating toward certain types of cases and helped her recognize that her interests might be leading her toward a different career path than she originally imagined.
A teacher who saw potential in a student and handed them a book that opened their eyes to an entirely new possibility.
A fellow veterinarian who took the time to say, “You just saved that dog’s life. Way to go!”
These moments might seem small to the person offering the encouragement. But for the person receiving it, they can change the trajectory of a career.
When we’re paving new paths, it can feel as though we’re doing it alone. But when I listen to these stories, I’m reminded how rarely that is entirely true. Someone opened a door. Someone asked a thoughtful question. Someone saw something in us that we hadn’t yet recognized in ourselves.
Sometimes we don’t appreciate the significance of those moments until years later.
And sometimes, as my friend experienced during her international adventure, the person we need isn’t someone who opens a new door. It’s someone willing to stand beside us when the door we were counting on suddenly closes.
The Profession We Create for Each Other
I’ve spoken before about finding the fight worth fighting for. There are certainly challenges within Veterinary medicine that deserve our energy and advocacy. But fighting is tiring, especially when we feel as though we’re doing it alone.
I don’t want us to lose sight of the people beside us while we’re working to change the things in front of us. There is so much possibility within animal health. We have professionals with extraordinary knowledge, different perspectives, and a shared interest in improving the lives of animals and the people who care for them. We don’t have to agree on everything to recognize that we have something important in common.
What would happen if we became more intentional about celebrating that?
What if we made a point of welcoming someone new into a conversation at a conference? What if we took a chance on someone whose experience didn’t perfectly match a job description? What if we told a colleague that we saw potential in them, even if they hadn’t yet recognized it themselves?
And what if we made more room for the joy of being part of this profession?
I keep picturing that conference in the Philippines. Veterinary professionals singing together, dancing together, and eagerly participating in education. There is something beautiful about a group of people who are proud of what they do and comfortable expressing that pride together.
I would love to see more of that spirit of possibility, appreciation, and even playfulness throughout our profession. Not because it will solve every challenge we face. It won’t. But because the experience of being part of a profession is shaped by the people we encounter within it.
I keep thinking about my friend, thousands of miles from home, feeling welcomed by a community of Veterinary professionals she had only just met. And I keep thinking about the person who helped her navigate the chaos before she ever boarded the plane.
Two very different experiences, but perhaps the same lesson. We all need people in our corner. And somewhere in this profession, someone needs us in theirs. Who comes to mind for you?