When reflecting on the impact of Dr. Kevin C. Chung’s tenure as the seventh Editor-in-Chief of Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery, several key metrics and trends illustrate the Journal’s progress. Under Dr. Chung’s leadership, for example, PRS focused on improving the author experience by accelerating the time from acceptance to publication; aimed to improve the reader experience by reorganizing the Cosmetic, Hand, and Reconstructive sections1; shined a spotlight in each issue on health policy research, showing how legislation, data, and the health care system influence patient outcomes and care2; reaffirmed the mission and vision of the Journal3; and propelled the Journal’s growth to becoming the third most-cited journal in all of surgery, behind only Annals of Surgery and Journal of Bone and Joint Surgery—American Volume.4 LEGACY Statistics, rankings, protocols, and policies are important when discussing an editor’s impact, but it is also necessary to reflect on Dr. Chung’s legacy, which, in the words of Maya Angelou, “is every life you have touched.” Dr. Chung’s legacy will be one centered around mutual teaching and learning. When Dr. Chung formally took over as Editor-in-Chief in 2022 from his predecessor Rod J. Rohrich, MD, he called an editorial staff meeting in Dallas. The agenda was jam-packed, as there was much to do with the transition: get to know each other and our roles; discuss the tasks ahead; and shoot months’ worth of videos for social media to promote key articles, the Journal, and the new editor. It was an already ambitious agenda, but Dr. Chung had one more item in mind: he wanted us all to learn something together. PSYCHOLOGICAL SAFETY AND WINE Dr. Chung gave us a short lesson on the basic concept of “psychological safety,” which he would later describe in detail in one of his Editor’s Perspective pieces. In short, a work atmosphere of psychological safety is one in which “all levels of employees feel able to speak up.”5 He told us that as Editor-in-Chief, he wanted each member of the team to feel comfortable giving him feedback, to be unafraid to say, “If I were you, I would do it differently,” and to know that “being blunt is not a problem.” He immediately put the practice into action as we dove into a group exercise where all team members were asked to discuss what was gratifying about their jobs, what about their jobs could be more efficient, and what we each wanted but had not yet been able to try. Over lunch, Dr. Chung taught us about something else: wine. Dr. Chung explained that he had never been a big fan of alcohol in general or wine in particular. During the pandemic, however, he wanted to learn something new, so he dove into research about wine: how it was made; grape varietals; the effects of regional geography, climate, and topography on the end product; and its history. He focused his “lesson” on the 1976 “Judgment of Paris,” a blind tasting competition where California wines surprisingly defeated French wines. We all collectively performed our own re-creation of the blind-tasting competition, using wines Dr. Chung had carefully selected to re-create the experiment. I don’t recall who won our blind tasting, France or the United States, but I do recall that the experience was unabashedly successful. The team learned something new together; we got to know a personal side of our new Editor-in-Chief; and we had collectively stitched a new patch in the quilt that bonded us as a team—a much-needed new experience in a postpandemic, fully remote work environment. At the end of the meeting, Dr. Chung challenged the team. Each time we gathered for an in-person meeting, after the necessary business of the day, our agenda would always include a standard feature: somebody would teach us something. Dr. Chung said that we had just witnessed his turn, and someone else would need to volunteer for the next time. The lessons would not have to be specifically related to publishing or plastic surgery; in fact, it would be preferable if they were not related. Each member’s presentation on something about which they were knowledgeable and passionate would help us get to know that person better; make us more cohesive as a team; and, in turn, make PRS even stronger. SOMEBODY TEACH US SOMETHING Then it was our turn. As we gathered semiregularly over the next several years, we stayed true to this charge; after the business agenda was complete, somebody would teach us something new. Christina taught us how to artfully decorate delicious cookies—and brought the supplies so that we could all try our hand at creating (and eating) our art. Mike taught us all about vintage professional wrestling—and its surprising link to scientific publishing. Anna taught us about poetry, specifically, the villanelle. She shared some villanelles she had written and taught us how to write our own, complete with handouts! For our annual holiday team-building exercises, we sometimes let a third party handle the teaching, so we could collectively enjoy the learning experience as students. We were given a guided tour through the key works in the Dallas Museum of Art. We learned how to make spinach and ricotta ravioli at Eataly. And, though the tour was self-guided, the animals of the Dallas World Aquarium were able to demonstrate many applicable life lessons to us humans. EDITOR’S PERSPECTIVES Dr. Chung’s philosophy of teaching something became a routine feature of the Journal itself during his tenure. His series of Editor’s Perspectives, featured at the opening of each issue, allowed Dr. Chung to present well-researched treatises on a wide range of topics. Distinct from traditional editorials, these essays blended academic rigor with analytical frameworks and thoughtfully chosen subjects. The essays explored courage,6 meditative discipline,7 intellectual humility,8 and grit.9 They examined the surgical profession by exploring emotional burdens and stress within the surgical community10; challenging leaders in the field to imagine new approaches11; and encouraging plastic surgeons to learn insights from those outside their field, such as Ratan Tata,12 Steve Jobs,13 Marie Curie,14 and Nobel-laureate Richard Feynman.15 Some of the essays even broke through into larger conversations with our readers and their families, such as “Dealing with Difficult People and Why It Matters”16—serendipitously released in November of 2023—which was reported by several readers to be a useful primer before Thanksgiving dinners. Another piece, “On Style and Grace as a Surgeon,”17 prompted thoughtful reflection from readers who noted that whether in sport, music, or surgery, it is through practice that we develop the judgment that ultimately allows for grace. With potential applications in the operating room, clinic, and academic department offices or dinner tables and everyday life, this body of over 50 editorial articles collectively speaks to what the editorial team embraces as Dr. Chung’s overriding philosophy: a valuable lesson can come from anyone and anywhere. CONCLUSIONS Early in his tenure, Dr. Chung made the decision to stop publishing obituaries in PRS, noting that they would get more timely, rapid publication and broader attention in the pages of Plastic Surgery News.18 I replied that we could potentially make a carve out for former Editors-in-Chief of the Journal. Dr. Chung looked at me seriously as he bluntly said, “Aaron, I will not care if there’s an obituary for me. I will be dead.” I tell this story not only because I find its overly direct message humorous and somehow comforting, but because it harkens back to the concept of legacy. In this one exchange, Dr. Chung personified his view that legacy is best counted and designed in the active and vital relationships one has daily, especially in what one teaches to—and learns from—one’s peers. As a team, we will carry forward the lessons Dr. Chung was trying to teach us all through his Editor’s Perspective series and through the structure of our regular meetings: Every member of every team has something unique, valuable, and educational to share. A little bit of thorough research and preparedness can elevate a simple lesson into a lasting takeaway. People in your life might have something to share but need a little encouragement to do so. As we look toward the future of PRS, it is worth remembering the core of Dr. Chung’s legacy. Whether setting the tone and structure for meetings or writing editorials for the Journal, he aimed to demonstrate that lessons which improve our lives or professions—and simultaneously help us to better understand the teacher—can come from anyone and anywhere, even unlikely sources. The wisest among us actively seek these out and encourage them in others. DISCLOSURE Mr. Weinstein is the editorial director of Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery and PRS Global Open and is an employee of the American Society of Plastic Surgeons. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS The author would like to thank the American Society of Plastic Surgeons’ Journals team—Mike Stokes, I. Donnell Moore, Angela Burch, Maddy Ramos, Christina Carson, Darienne Miner, Anna Wojtul, Chelsea Young, Miriam Costales, Samantha Gonzalez, and the late Ed Tynan—for participating actively, supportively, and genuinely in our “Somebody Teach Us Something” experiences led by Dr. Chung. The author would also like to thank Mike Stokes, Christina Carson, and Anna Wojtul, specifically, for assisting with and/or copyediting this piece.
Aaron Weinstein (Wed,) studied this question.