By Cheryl Cranick, Honors Program
(The first two alumni interviews reflect excerpts from the presentations given by the 2013 Distinguished Honors Alumni Award recipients the evening before the 2013 Medals Ceremony, to Honors students and University staff.)
When he came to UConn, Dr. Anthony Chiodo, B.A. ’80 (CLAS-Honors), M.D. ’84 (MEDICINE), was not sure how he would get where he was going, but he knew he wanted to do something great. And with the support of the Honors Program he found his path in life; one that led him across the country and back as he developed into an international expert and educator in the fields of pain medicine and spinal cord injury.
“There’s always room in the world for the great whatever you want to be,” said Chiodo, “but sometimes it’s hard to know how to start.” He meandered through his first few years at UConn, exploring various schools/colleges and majors. “I was in math and computers for a while. I was in chemistry for a while. I was in psychology for a while,” he said. “And when I ran out of time at the end of my junior year, I took the MCATs, and I did pretty well. But I knew nothing about applying to medical school. Fortunately, I had the Honors Program.” Dr. John Tanaka, former director of Honors and professor of chemistry, saw Chiodo’s potential and helped to point him in the right direction.
After completing his medical degree at the University of Connecticut School of Medicine, Chiodo began exploring residency programs in the field of sports medicine. “I found this specialty called physical medicine and rehab, which is basically non-operative care for people with disabilities, including people who are athletes,” he said. An alignment of fate brought him to the University of Michigan, which was his preferred assignment for residency.
“One of the things that was important to me growing up,” he said, “—and a lot of it was because my mom had a disability—was to take care of people who were less fortunate.” By the time Chiodo completed his residency, he had transferred his focus from sports medicine to pediatric rehab, specifically pediatric neurotrauma rehab (children with head and spinal injuries). “And not just getting them to recover so they could go home,” he said, “but actually getting them integrated back into school and to their lives.”
After his residency, Chiodo stayed at Michigan for a part-time job in his field. He also learned about a fellowship in neuromuscular disease, which he decided to take on, half time as well. “I was a little leery of doing that because you know what happens when you do two half-time jobs—you’re actually doing two full-time jobs,” he said. But he knew the experience would be invaluable for his career. And it was.
“My memory of that year is nothing but good,” said Chiodo. “But when I finished that fellowship there was no position at Michigan for me to stay and do pediatric rehab, so I went to Indianapolis to a hospital that didn’t have a pediatric rehab program but wanted one.” He built the program from nothing, including implementing an innovative function of traveling during the month of August to schools around the state, working directly with the school systems of his patients as the students transitioned back to their classrooms. “It was really hard to do pediatric rehab when you have kids the same age as your patients,” he said. “I had a couple of circumstances that were a little too close to home.”
When Indianapolis planned the creation of a large-scale integrated rehabilitation program for patients of all ages, Chiodo was interested in running it. But the facility’s leadership had other ideas, citing his specialty was only pediatrics. It was the spark he needed to explore other career opportunities.
Chiodo was invited to join a small hospital on the border of the Navajo reservation in New Mexico. Recalling the interview, he and his family arrived at the small local airport on a 13-seater plane. “We’re flying, and we’re over the desert … you see sand and you’re like, ‘where is he landing?’ And then your wheels hit the tarmac … We were in the middle of nowhere,” he said.
The hospital was in a town populated by 40,000 people, which also treated a large region of New Mexico and the entire Navajo nation, equaling more than 300,000 possible patients. But it was an opportunity to oversee a rehab program for both children and adults. “And I got to do something that was really unique in that half of my patients were Navajo,” he said. “All of our medical assistants on our in-patient rehabilitation unit had to be Navajo interpreters,” as Chiodo did not speak the intricate language.
“It was wonderful working with these people,” he said. “They have a wonderful sense of humor and a strong sense of family. I saw things there I had never seen.” One patient, who had suffered a stroke, was recovering physically but hindered by a speech impairment. Though not an unlikely type of patient to have in a rehab facility, something about him was distinctive: he was a medicine man. “The other Native American patients who were on the unit, they were deathly afraid of him,” said Chiodo. The patients were terrified of what it meant that a spiritual healer could be affected by illness. The unit had to transform the space and shift schedules to keep the medicine man separate from the others.
Another patient—a 12-year-old who was paralyzed below the neck and dependent on a ventilator to breathe—lived on the Navajo reservation in a home without electricity or running water. Convinced his patient could be integrated back into her community, “we got them a solar-powered generator to serve as their method by which they could keep her ventilator and her power wheelchair out on the reservation,” said Chiodo. “That’s where they lived and that’s where they wanted to stay.”
Although he was fascinated by the experiences encountered during his time in New Mexico, a call from the University of Michigan brought him back to the Midwest, to become a senior faculty mentor in the university hospital’s rehab unit. At Michigan he was given a wide range of freedom to develop his own academic path. In addition to exploring a range of topics, Chiodo became an integral part of the spine program, including co-principle investigator of Michigan’s Spinal Cord Injury Model System. It is one of fourteen programs of its kind; “we set the standard for spinal cord injury care,” he said.
At Michigan, he pushed to introduce patients who were on ventilators into the rehab process. “I didn’t see why, just because someone was on a ventilator, they couldn’t be on the rehab unit,” said Chiodo. “If they were paralyzed high enough, they and their families still had to learn how to make it in the world and go home.” This evolved into its own program, though it took time to start. The age of the building that housed the unit was built before the Americans with Disabilities Act. “Not a single room in that building could accommodate somebody in a power wheelchair,” he said. “At this point, we have 300 patients who are at home—on ventilators—many of whom go to college, work, and are otherwise productive.”
Moving from private practice to academia has allowed Chiodo to enjoy even more unique experiences. He has researched and written articles on various subjects, served on national medical boards, set standards in his field, and launched international rehab projects. For five years, he and a colleague have been developing a self-sufficient rehab program in Ghana. Chiodo has also taught spine procedures in Egypt.
His greatest bit of advice is: “Don’t worry about being afraid. It’s part of the process.” Recently, he was overseeing a spine procedure being performed by one of his fellows; “the spine procedure that has the highest catastrophic risk of anything I do,” he said. The fellow’s training was nearly complete, and Chiodo complimented her mastery of the technique. “She looked at me, and goes: ‘my heart still races every time I do it.’ And I said to her: ‘I’ve done 500 of these and my heart races, too. If it didn’t, I should stop doing it. Because I need to understand the risk.”
A life-long debater
Chad Landmon, B.A. ’96 (CLAS-Honors), J.D. ’99 (LAW), knew exactly what he wanted to become after college. He grew up in an unassuming Connecticut town that was known for its high school football, its pumpkin festival, and its mill town roots. From his childhood experiences, his education at UConn, and his dedication to setting and reaching goals, this small-town boy not only graduated from UConn’s Honors Program and UConn’s School of Law, but he has also achieved the status of a top attorney in his field.
“I’ve always set high goals and worked hard to achieve them, and, of course, I’ve been helped by so many others,” said Landmon. The history of his hometown and his parents’ example taught him the value of honest, hard work. And though he does not see his childhood as different, he almost cannot remember a time when he did not want to be a lawyer. He cited a sixth-grade debate class as his early excitement for the law. The course required Landmon and his classmates to develop arguments for various political and social issues and prove their cases. “A critical lesson I learned is that you need to think about things from all different directions because that will bring different perspectives,” he said. “After these debates, I was hooked on arguing. I was hooked on debating.”
His competitive spirit helped fuel his successes throughout his academic and professional careers. When he lost the title of eight-grade valedictorian to two of his classmates (Tim and Greg), he vowed to be top in his high school class. “Four years later, after a lot of hard work, I gave the valedictorian speech,” he said. But out of respect for full disclosure, Landmon admits: “Of course, Tim and Greg, they went to different high schools. They didn’t go to my high school,” he chuckled. “But that’s really beside the point.”
Though a serious student and debater, Landmon has always committed himself to remember that every situation must have a lighter side. This healthy attitude was something that began at home but was ingrained at UConn. Majoring in political science for passion and economics for stability, Landmon knew succeeding in his undergraduate years would help him achieve his goal of law school. “Even when I entered college, I was already interested in politics and interested in getting involved,” he said. But he soon discovered that his political beliefs did not often align with those of his professors.
This could have spoiled his excitement; instead it ignited it. As a result of their differences, “we had some fantastic debates,” he said. “The professors here challenged me to challenge my thought process, to challenge my arguments. They very forcefully set forth polices [of their political party], but more importantly, they really made me think and consider the other angles, and they made me defend my positions. One of the lessons I distinctly learned is: You need to be prepared,” he said. “The other thing I learned from these debates is that it’s OK to debate forcefully, and sometimes even debate in a heated manner, but at the end of the debate, you can be friends. It doesn’t have to be personal.”
After graduating as an Honors Scholar, Landmon completed his professional degree at UConn’s School of Law. In typical fashion, he was a summer associate before his final year, and he remembers vividly the words of the firm’s founding partner one day at lunch; words that should have been framed to entice the young summer lawyers to join his firm. But this seasoned attorney stood before the associates and said something very different, “something that I’ve actually shared with so many young people starting out,” said Landmon. “He said, ‘if you don’t get off that elevator every day excited to be there and excited to do what you’re about to do that day, don’t come here…find another place to work, because you’re going to spend literally the majority of your life at work. And if you’re miserable you are not going to be as successful as you will be if you’re doing something you’re passionate about.’”
Early in his career, Landmon joined the firm Axinn, Veltrop & Harkrider LLP, and set to work to achieve his major goal: to make partner. “Part of what I tried to do was act like a partner from right when I started…I tried to understand how the business worked, not just doing my day-to-day job; not just doing what I was told to,” he said. Up against senior lawyers across the country, specifically in New York City, Landmon learned quickly that the only way to be successful was to out-work and out-prepare his competition, he said. “Never underestimate your competition and never overestimate yourself. Never assume you are going to outsmart the other person and never assume you have better skills than the other person,” he said. Throughout his career, that advice has served him well.
Landmon made partner by age 32; and even six years later he remains the youngest partner at the firm. Continuing to assume even greater responsibilities, he is now co-chair of the firm’s Intellectual Property Practice, chair of the FDA Practice Group, and is an expert in FDA processes, pharmaceutical litigation, and the business of generic drug development and human tissue.
Learning to be prepared has never failed him, even now. A recent victory for his career, his firm, and most importantly, his client, began with a rejected application by the FDA for a generic drug. With $2 billion in sales at risk, and hundreds of millions of dollars on the line to fight the FDA, Landmon and his team assembled their case within a week. Their opponent was an experienced lawyer for the FDA. Yet, that attorney soon learned why it is necessary to be ready for any challenger.
They were in the courtroom to present their arguments, “and the judge started asking him questions,” said Landmon. “He didn’t know the answers to these questions because he didn’t prepare the way he should have prepared. But because of the work our team had done, I was able to get up—literally while he was being questioned—‘well, Your Honor, if you want the answer to that question, I’ve got it right here.’ And this happened on multiple occasions.” The judge ultimately ruled in favor of Landmon’s client. “It’s actually been written this is the first time ever that a district court has told the FDA to approve a drug product,” he said.
Outside of the courtroom Landmon is an advocate for his community as well, as an elected member of his town’s Board of Selectmen and a member of various other boards and advisory committees. “I was first elected in 2009 when I was only 34,” said Landmon. While he admits that does not stand out as a striking number on its own, in comparison to his fellow board members he is nearly 40 years their junior.
“I’ve been repeatedly asked why I would want to get involved with local government and politics when I had a busy career and a young family. And frankly, sometimes I asked the same question of myself,” joked Landmon. But upon reflection of this common question, he arrived at several answers. He cited his faith and his long-time interest in solving problems. “I’ve always been one of those folks that, I want to improve things, I want to figure out a problem and find a way to solve it,” he said. Landmon feels his many successes in life also warrant giving back; especially helping to reshape the world that is very different from the memories of his childhood. He serves to restore some of its innocence for his children and their futures. But what solidified Landmon’s entry to local politics was a quote by founding father John Adams: “Public business, my son, must always be done by somebody. It will be done by some way or another. If wise men decline it, others will not. If honest men refuse it, others will not.”
Landmon appreciates the opportunity to help his community and his neighbors through his public service, but he readily admits the secondary motive that has remained a constant in his life: “I enjoy the debate,” he said. He may not always win the arguments, “but I’m convinced that the best policies are put in place when you thoroughly debate something, when you thoroughly vet it. And when you really look at it from all sides,” he said. Once the debating ends, Landmon remembers those lessons he learned at UConn. “You can be friends when the debate is over. There’s no need to take things personally.” Disagreements in principles and procedures should not affect the morale afterward. Leaders are there, he said, “to better the community and come out with the best results.”
The next generation
Following in the footsteps of Chiodo and Landmon are two recent UConn Honors graduates. Alexis Thompson ’13 (CLAS-Honors) is headed to UConn’s medical school after graduating with an individualized major that she named “Neuroscience & Ethics.” Classmate Kelcie Reid ’13 (CLAS-Honors), a linguistics/psychology major, will begin UConn’s law school in the fall. Both women have earned full funding for their professional degrees.
Thompson, who has wanted to be a doctor since she was a child, came to UConn because of a full scholarship for her undergraduate degree, a scholarship that also guaranteed admission to the Honors Program. “I applied to other schools but you cannot beat attending a great school for free,” she said. Additionally, Thompson was invited to join the Rowe Scholar Program, a special opportunity funded by the generous support of Drs. John and Valerie Rowe. The program, advised by Dr. Jessamy Hoffmann, offers support, guidance, and opportunities for students from underrepresented backgrounds who plan to pursue careers in health care. In medical school, Thompson intends to focus on pediatrics. “Pediatric neurology is my current interest, but I am open to other areas like surgery,” she said.
Her only concern about attending UConn was that the university did not offer a program in neuroscience. She could not decide between biological sciences, psychology, and physiology and neurobiology. Her solution was an individualized major, which allowed her to select the most relevant courses from various departments. She added philosophy coursework as well to create a “comprehensive education of the anatomical brain and the philosophical mind,” she said.
Thompson worked with Dr. Keat Sanford to develop her application for medical school. She applied to a few programs, but UConn’s medical school was at the top of her list. “I was attracted to the idea of being a complete UConn product for when UConn finally reaches the acclaim/reputation it wants to meet,” she said. “I will be proud to have been part of that movement.” When her acceptance letter came from the UConn School of Medicine, she was elated. “I just passed the letter around to my family and had them read it for themselves,” said Thompson.
Reid’s interest in the law also began at a young age. She admits her first impression of the field is a little embarrassing. “I watched ‘Legally Blonde’ in the fourth grade and thought to myself, ‘That sounds awesome!’” It would be three years later before the notion became a more tangible thought. During a seventh-grade mock trial experience, “I had so much fun gathering information on the case and making my arguments that I got a little overzealous during the trial and almost made a witness cry,” she said. “That was the first time I considered a legal career as a possible choice for me. Where else had I ever had fun doing homework?”
Her application to UConn was fueled by her family connection—her dad and sister are also alumni. Though UConn was not her only choice, it had several practical influences, she said, as well as a strong reputation. She remembers filling out the application form and noticing a box that referenced the Special Program in Law. A program still in its infancy, Reid could not find much information on it, but checked the box anyway. “Checking that little box really changed things for me,” said Reid. Her admission to the Special Program in Law guaranteed her acceptance into the Honors Program.
Honors gave Reid a community, friends, direct access to faculty and advisors, and even a campus job. “So much of my UConn experience has revolved around the Honors Program!” she said. The Special Program in Law offered her a focused introduction to her intended field. Under the guidance of Rebecca Flanagan ’99 (Honors-CLAS), ’02 (EDUC), a licensed attorney who oversaw the program, Reid was exposed to numerous law-related experiences: career advice from practicing attorneys, attending conferences and legal lectures, and meeting with law school admissions officers. “When I came [to UConn], I was sure that I wanted to go to law school, but I didn’t know why exactly. Now I can definitely say that I am going specifically because I want to be a lawyer. The Special Program in Law basically gave me the opportunities that I needed to shape my pre-professional career and decide whether law school was right for me,” she said.
At the UConn School of Law, Reid intends to focus on health care law. “Most of my family practices medicine in some way,” she said. “My grandfather is a psychiatrist (and actually, one of the first professors ever at UConn Medical School), my parents and older sister are nurses, my younger sister is a CNA (certified nurse’s aid) majoring in neurobiology, and my brother is going to PA (physician’s assistant) school.” Reid also has experience working in a nursing home.
She learned about her full scholarship to law school during a lazy winter day on break. “When I read it, I immediately began to tear up and ran upstairs to tell my sister and her friend (an L1 at UConn),” she recalled. “My mother and I both cried later when I told her about it. There were a lot of feelings all around. I am not likely to forget that day.”
With the cost of law school covered, Reid will be able to take on a second graduate degree, Master of Public Health. This is only possible because of her law school funding. “That was something I had desperately wanted and only now have the option of pursuing,” she said. “It was a very freeing and humbling experience. I am so grateful to have had the chance to experience it.”
Both women, now Honors alumni, are already wise beyond their years. “I would say that if you are sure medical school is what you want, do not stress yourself by comparing yourself to all of the other pre-med students,” said Thompson. “Medical schools aren’t looking for perfection; they’re looking for you.” Reid offered sage words, too: “You may have the best grades and scores in your class, but you’ll never get a job if an employer thinks you’re unpleasant to work with. And always err on the side of kindness.”
When asked their ultimate goals in life, they may not share a field, but they share an answer. Reid does not care about money and sees herself working in public service. “In the long term,” said she, “I really just want to be happy.” Thompson, with a goal of practicing medicine at a children’s hospital in an urban area, echoed her classmate: “I would most like to be happy.”
Return to the Summer 2013 issue of the Honors Alumni eNewsletter