Anatomy teacher Fonda wins hearts and minds of med students

One more time: Bruce Fonda, Teacher of the Year in the College of Medicine.


By Scott Sutherland

Flip through the student evaluations of Bruce Fonda's gross anatomy class, and certain themes ---quickly emerge. "I can't imagine gross anatomy without Bruce," one student writes; "Don't change a thing!" another implores; "Best sense of humor this side of the Mississippi"; "Wonderful!" and so on.

One evaluator, asked to estimate the contact hours with Fonda during the course, pens, "Most of my adult life," and in the 'comments' section simply writes, "YOU DA MAN!"

Such overwhelming praise is business as usual for Fonda, a lecturer in anatomy and neurobiology, who was recently awarded his third 'Teacher of the Year' in the College of Medicine's basic science core. The annual award is bestowed based on votes cast by first-year medical students, who must run a daunting academic gauntlet of basic science courses and labs. Fonda is the first three-time winner since the award was first given in 1954.

"Students say I have a knack for simplifying complicated areas," says the unassuming Fonda. "I get them to grasp the general concept first, then give them specifics, instead of shotgunning specifics at them." He prefers a Socratic style of questioning in the labs ("get them to think through it and come to their own conclusions'), and says he goes out of his way "to show concern for them as people."

Most of all, though, it's Fonda's down-to-earth demeanor and goofy sense of humor that enlivens a course otherwise shot through with scientific detail. "Having a little levity come their way, after hours of sitting in Hall A, goes a long way with them," he says. His style is self-deprecating; his favorite genre, cornpone. "I say some pretty corny things, but the students get a kick out of it. Sometimes they groan, but it makes it interesting."

Since receiving his first 'Teacher of the Year' in 1982, Fonda has consistently rated at or near the top of medical students' favorite instructors. Regular-guy Fonda effectively subverts the weight of medicine's formidable ivory tower and reminds students that they, like he, remain very human.

The groaner jokes and the "general to specific" teaching tactics seem to be working. Not bad for a med school reject.

Fonda, 43, was born in Potsdam, N.Y. and contracted polio at 11 months. From age 5 until he was 11, Fonda wore a steel leg brace, until he had an operation that corrected the position of his foot. "I was so impressed with what the doctors did for me that I decided I wanted to be a doctor, too," Fonda says. "I wanted to help people the same way."

He studied biology at St. Lawrence University, graduating in 1972, and set his sights on medical school. "It was hard to get in during those years," Fonda recalls. "I made a waiting list, but was finally rejected."

Fonda wondered what to do next, until an advertisement on a St. Lawrence bulletin board caught his eye. The ad described graduate positions in anatomy available at UVM, and Fonda liked the sound of it. He applied, was accepted, and enrolled in the fall of 1972.

He received his master's in anatomy from UVM in 1975, and took a position as an instructor at the University of South Carolina. In 1979 he enrolled as a doctoral student in anatomy at South Carolina, but left after a year to take a job as a lecturer at UVM. "I didn't want to get into the whole publish and perish thing, the grantsmanship, all that," Fonda says of his reasons for ditching his doctorate. "I wanted to teach more than I wanted to conduct research."

Fonda joined Dr. Pat Powers, director of the gross anatomy course, and the legendary Dallas Boushey, professor emeritus of anatomy, as part of the anatomy team Fonda dubbed "the A-Team." "I learned a lot of what I know from Dallas Boushey," says Fonda, who refers to Boushey as "the Big D." "A lot of the humorous stuff, the teaching methods - a lot of that came directly from him."

When Boushey retired in 1987, Fonda slid into the role of clown prince of gross anatomy. Fonda is quick to praise the current anatomy team of Powers, himself, and Dr. Elizabeth Ezerman as a smooth-running unit that plans and executes the course's extensive curriculum. "Teamwork is the most important thing," he says. "We each relate to people in different ways, and each way is important."

Fonda has found ways to use his vast knowledge of the human body outside the anatomy lab. He was a member of Williston's first response rescue squad for six years (he quit three years ago, he says, when he got tired of my phone ringing all the time"), and lectures area rescue squads and ski patrols on issues related to anatomy. Instead of rescue, Fonda currently enjoys a somewhat less stressful existence as a suburban family man in Williston, enjoying the company of his wife Sandra and their two daughters (ages 13 and 7), coaching a girls' softball team, cruising around on his 1968 BSA motorcycle, and performing in a church folk-singing group. "Regular stuff," Fonda says. "Nothing too fancy."

At the moment, Fonda's mention of folk-singing has sparked a spirited exchange over his listening habits. "Bruce is into the hits of World War II, but he'll listen to Eric Clapton if forced," says Steve Arnold, a lab tech and instructor in anatomy and neurobiology who shares a cluttered Given office with Fonda. Fonda defends himself as best he can, claiming a fondness for the "Dances With Wolves" soundtrack.

Arnold describes Fonda's teaching methods as "unique." "I'd describe it as innovative, with a touch of the local yokel - local color, I mean," Arnold says. "I've used a couple of Bruce's techniques in subtle ways, but I don't think anyone can pull it off like Bruce."

One of Fonda's favorite lectures involves the use of clothing to describe the layers of the anterior abdominal wall. Fonda enters the class, dressed in a half-dozen or more layers, and proceeds to strip off the coats, jackets, shirts and undershirts - all labeled with the proper anatomical name - until bare-chested, with a final label stuck to his chest: "And I'm fat," he announces, usually to well-earned applause. "It's hot," he says of the layering gag. "Anything to keep their interest."

Students have been making it clear to Fonda for more than a decade that they're interested. In the spirit of goofy wit, one recent student wrote Fonda a bit of doggerel that only an anatomy instructor could love: "Twas the last Fonda lecture and we sat in Hall A - Wondering what goodies he'd prepared for the day - Cadavers were resting in multiple pieces - Brains were in buckets along with prostheses..." and so on.

The accolades come as a gratifying topping to a satisfying vocation. "I enjoy my work," Fonda says. "A lot of people think anatomy is cut and dried and boring, but it's not true - you can put a lot of zip and color into the subject. I start from scratch every year when I prepare, and make myself think about the courses from the students' perspective. I can't learn it for them, but I can give them a lot of ways of approaching it."

Page 8 UVM RECORD, Nov.5 to 18, 1993 (retyped)