Dedicated to Wassfy Hanna, MD, August 8, 1933, to September 2, 2025, for his compassion, integrity, and mentorship.
I remember with traumatic fondness morning rounds as a third-year medical student in clinical rotations at the medical center when, just outside the patient’s room, the attending physician began by asking me what the differential diagnosis was. Of course, the answer was incomplete at best, and after some humiliating comment, the attending physician turned to the fourth-year medical student, then the intern, and then each of the residents until the last person standing was the fellow, all of whom fell short of providing the correct answer. With a smirk, the attending physician provided the final and complete differential diagnosis list, with body language and vocal tone conveying disapproval at our lack of knowledge.
This, of course, was not mentorship but rather traditional medical education. Fortunately, that is not the extent of the medical education experience. Every so often, the attending physician, senior resident, supervising intern, or another member of the treatment team engages students with kind eyes and a relaxed posture to share a meaningful, respectful, and animated discussion about the situation at hand, resulting in enthusiasm, appreciation, and unforgettable learning. That person has the potential to become a true mentor.
Seeking Mentors
My road to finding such a mentor followed such a path. Stressed and approaching burnout after completing the rigorous clerkships of my third year of medical school, I coestablished the first behavioral medicine clerkship at the University of Massachusetts Medical Center in Worcester. That experience led me to Larry Rosenberg, PhD, who was the teacher of a 7-day residential mindfulness meditation retreat at the nearby Insight Meditation Society in Barre, Massachusetts. Larry, who left his previous role as a professor of psychology at Harvard Medical School in Boston, Massachusetts, to explore Eastern meditation practices, was considered a pioneer skilled at distilling the essence of Buddhist psychology into meditation practices suitable for Westerners.
Larry’s retreats usually comprised 2 teachers and 100 participants; each attendee was scheduled to meet with a teacher for 10 minutes every other day. My first meeting with Larry lasted an hour, and by the end, it felt as though we were old friends. We met daily, and he patiently and nonjudgmentally guided me through a self-inquiry about the future of my medical career. Over the following several years, I attended Larry’s weeklong retreats and regularly reflected on our conversations. In retrospect, Larry was my most significant mentor: Those conversations guided and informed subsequent decisions through today.
Expressing Gratitude
Although I still have a lot to learn, I am grateful to my current and past mentors who have influenced my development and my understanding of who I am, how to engage with a complex society, how to improve my skills as a clinician and educator, and even how to be a mentor. My first mentor, even though I didn’t realize it at the time, was my boss at the fruit and vegetable store where I worked during high school. Thirty years my senior, Jack Moran treated me as an equal, unless he (appropriately) had feedback to provide. Jack instilled in me the properties of problem-solving, self-reliance, teamwork, and trust.
Another significant mentor, Maurille J. “Skip” Fournier, PhD, professor of biochemistry at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, served as my thesis adviser during my undergraduate senior year. In a
ddition to spending many late nights at the research laboratory, we also enjoyed canoeing, fishing, and illuminating conversations about the future of science. As I considered changing my plans from studying genetics in graduate school to attending medical school, Skip took me on an hour-long walk around campus to discuss the pros and cons of a career in molecular biology vs medicine. Ultimately, he accepted my decision and even offered me a job as a laboratory technician until I left for medical school. Skip served as a role model for me by imbuing his honest and ethical character, excellence as an academic researcher, and genuine interest in me as a person. I do my best to emulate these qualities.
As I stepped into my role as Psychiatric Times’ editor-in-chief, I was fortunate to have the generous and wise mentoring of Ronald W. Pies, MD, editor-in-chief emeritus. We continue to correspond about challenging and sensitive issues, and I have sought his counsel on controversial topics that created opposing tensions from strong-minded authors, ensuring the publication remains steadfast in providing accurate information with diverse viewpoints to best inform readers.
Becoming a Mentor
Passing the torch of knowledge and experience is foundational to all human endeavors, with the whole becoming much greater than the individual. My evolution from mentee to mentor was seamless and natural when I began supervising third-year psychiatry residents. Taking a page from my mentors, meetings with my mentees expanded beyond the complexities of psychopharmacology to include broader aspects of patient treatment as well as personal challenges and decisions.
I have enjoyed serving as a mentor over the years. I learn a lot, and I am exposed to a wide range of opinions, learning styles, and approaches to problem-solving. More importantly, the intimate conversations and person-to-person connection bring me great meaning and joy. I relish those opportunities as they arise, and I still experience a sense of excitement when I receive an email that begins, “You probably don’t remember me, but I attended your lecture years ago, and you told me I could email you with a question anytime.”
I have always relished the adage that the first third of life is learning a skill, the second third is practicing that skill, and the final third is teaching that skill to the next generation. And what better way to honor the lessons learned throughout life from mentors than by mentoring others?
An Iconic Mentor
I met Wassfy Hanna, MD, during my interview for staff psychiatrist at Seacoast Mental Health Center (SMHC) in New Hampshire, a position I held for 17 years, and from that day forward, he served as a most trusted and beloved mentor. Immediately, I was struck by his calming presence and sense of humor as well as his expectation of a patient-centric team approach to treatment. From the onset, Dr Hanna explained that he insisted on a 90-minute initial psychiatric evaluation for every new admission, emphasizing the importance of a comprehensive history and mental status examination to inform the treatment plan. In fact, one of my favorite quotes from him is, “The more you know, the less you know, and the less you know, the more confident you are.”
Dr Hanna died suddenly from a brain hemorrhage on September 2, 2025, at the age of 92. Notably, he remained clinically active in his position as medical director at SMHC from June 1968 until his passing, for a total of 57 years.
Hanna applied for a position at SMHC in Portsmouth after completing his fellowship in child and adolescent psychiatry at the W.C. Gaebler Children’s Center in Waltham, Massachusetts. Although it was his first postgraduate job, the only other psychiatrist resigned on his first day. This resulted in his promotion to medical director, a position that he maintained and served with excellence, passion, leadership, the highest degree of ethics, and dedicated commitment to the well-being of the residents of New Hampshire’s Seacoast until his passing. Even at age 92, he continued to practice patient-centered psychiatry at SMHC as well as in his private practice, where he treated 3 generations of patients.
Dr Hanna and his work were highly regarded. He received the New Hampshire Psychiatric Society Leadership Award in 2023. As a result of relentlessly advocating for access to psychiatric treatment in the Seacoast, SMHC grew into 2 large clinics, with more than 250 employees, 10 psychiatrists, and 6 psychiatric mental health nurse practitioners providing comprehensive treatment programs at the clinic, schools, summer camps, and the local homeless shelter. He also positioned SMHC to provide all psychiatric services at Exeter Hospital in New Hampshire. He was deeply connected to a wide range of organizations and institutions in New Hampshire’s Seacoast, and he will be greatly missed.
On a personal note, I still have not fully integrated his passing, and I know that by closing my eyes, I can conjure his presence, voice, and essence. The many conversations with friends and colleagues—exchanging shared memories and remembrances—have been helpful. Yet a void will always be felt when a circumstance arises and I ask myself, “What would Wassfy say?”
Dr Miller is Medical Director, Brain Health, Exeter, New Hampshire; Editor in Chief, Psychiatric Times; Volunteer Consulting Psychiatrist, Seacoast Mental Health Center, Exeter; Consulting Psychiatrist, Insight Meditation Society, Barre, Massachusetts.
