35 YEARS OF SMILES:

After 35 years working in dental offices — from West Street Dental to our current home at Clarence Street Dental — I’ve learned something that might surprise you: this job was never really about teeth.

It was about people. And everything that comes with them.

IT STARTS WITH TRUST

Getting to know patients and earning their trust is the most rewarding part of this work. Over the years, that trust was built in quiet, unexpected ways — through a shared recipe, a jar of maple syrup left at the front desk in the spring, a plate of homemade cookies, fruits and vegetables from someone’s garden, or a cooked dish made from a family’s heritage. Patients remembered us. They brought pieces of their lives into our office, and that was something I never took for granted.

Some of the deepest trust, though, came not from perfect appointments — but from moments when things went sideways.

One patient disputed every line item on his treatment statements for years. He was thorough. He was consistent. And honestly, he kept us sharp. Then one day, he left his wallet at the office. I returned it to his home — no fanfare, just the right thing to do. The smile on his face said everything. From that day forward, we were never questioned about his treatment again.

“A small act of integrity can do more to build trust than years of perfect service.”

That moment also reminded me to listen — really listen — to patients. Their concerns about a dental bill often have nothing to do with the bill at all. They have lives beyond our appointment book. When we remember that, everything changes.

THE TEAM THAT MADE IT ALL WORTH IT

None of this happens alone. For most of my career, I worked alongside a core group of about 15 women who showed up for each other through every busy day, every complicated case, and every moment when a coworker quietly stepped in to help without being asked.

And we laughed. A lot.

We once had a colleague head to the waiting room to check in “Len the Locksmith” for his appointment — only to discover that Len wasn’t a patient. He was there to fix our actual locks. A new dentist had a pair of shoes shipped to the office for convenience, so naturally we swapped them with a worn-out pair and watched from around the corner as the box was opened. And let’s just say our newest dentist’s beloved (if aging) car briefly became famous after a late-night encounter with a roll of toilet paper.

I may or may not have been responsible for some of this.

What I know for certain is that laughter was woven into our culture, and patients could feel it. You could hear it at the front desk when someone was checking in or out. In a place where many people arrive with anxiety, genuine joy coming from behind the scenes says something important: the people here like being here. And that is contagious.

We were also fortunate enough to travel together for destination team trips over the years. Those experiences gave us something no staff meeting ever could — the chance to really know each other. To share stories about our families, our lives, our dreams. To put a fake leg under a hotel bed just to hear someone scream down the hallway. Those trips forged friendships that lasted decades.

LESSONS THE PATIENTS TAUGHT ME

The patients taught me as much as any course or seminar ever did. They taught me about courage — watching someone overcome a deep fear to sit in that chair. They taught me about humility — accepting care gracefully is harder than it sounds. They taught me that a small gesture can mean everything, and that even a frustrating misunderstanding can be turned around with a little warmth and a good laugh.

Some of my most lasting memories are of watching the children of patients — whose Polaroid photos captured them sitting in the dental chair years ago — return with their own children to take that very same photo. That kind of continuity doesn’t happen without trust. It doesn’t happen without relationships built over time, one appointment at a time.

WHAT CHANGES, AND WHAT DOESN’T

The dental world I work in today looks almost nothing like the one I started in. Technology, scheduling systems, materials, infection control, patient education — all of it has changed dramatically. Continuing education seminars helped me stay current and bring new ideas back to the team, whether it was a better strategy for patient care or simply a fresh perspective from colleagues who faced the same challenges.

But here’s what hasn’t changed: the way we care for people.

The tools evolve. Our compassion doesn’t have to.

WHAT 35 YEARS LOOKS LIKE

Clarence Street Dental is a place where we take care of smiles every day. But behind every smile is a story — a person who was nervous, or brave, or generous, or funny, or one just really grateful to find their wallet returned.

After 35 years, I’ve been shaped by every one of them. And I wouldn’t trade a single appointment.