VT Works

Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of conducting Sit Downs with many remarkable people in vision therapy. When the series recently restarted, a colleague, who asked to remain anonymous, suggested turning the lens the other way once again. What follows is our conversation about mentorship, clinical growth, and what continues to drive my work in this field.

For the benefit of our readers, can you describe your current role and how you are involved in the field today?

My main gig is to serve as the Director of Vision Therapy for the Optometric Center for​​ Family Vision Care & Vision Therapy, in San Carlos, CA, which is the office of Dr. Carole Hong and Dr. Cynthia Huang. I also consult, contribute, and teach for Emergent and OVDRA on a regular basis, and a few years back, was asked to join the Journal Review Board for the Vision Development & Rehabilitation, publication; perhaps better known as VDR.

You’ve learned from many of the “giants” in our field. Was there a moment when something finally clicked and you felt your thinking about vision fundamentally change?

The first is the day I realized there really is no finish line when it comes to my Vision Therapy evolution. My model of vision is different now than it was two years ago, and I hope it is challenged into further adaptation two years from now. Maintaining the flexibility to learn, adjust, bend, and adapt is essential to delivering good care. The second piece is listening. The importance of holding space for people as they share their story, their challenges, and their triumphs is so incredibly important. There was a time the true value of this act was not on my radar, but with maturity and experience, a keen awareness has taken up residence in my consciousness. If there was a ‘click’, it was the day these two ideas synthesized.

Blogging has become a distinctive part of your professional voice. How did the idea for the Sit Downs originally come about, and what is it about this format, the quiet, reflective conversation on the page, that continues to draw you to it?

I used to love watching Inside the Actors Studio on A&E. For anyone who is unfamiliar, it was a program where celebrities would appear on stage and have lengthy, unfiltered, and unrehearsed conversations about who they were, what their childhood was like, how they arrived in their current life station, and what motivates them in the broader sense. It was a perspective the 30 second spot interviews ahead of award shows never offered, and I really enjoyed the window into their humanity. So one day, I thought it would be fun to try to recreate the concept on this blog. My original hope was to collaborate only three times; one doctor, one vision therapist, and one member of the community outside of our profession. My intent was simply to offer contrast. Much to my surprise, the posts were incredibly popular, which motivated me to try it again with three more people. After my third round of “trying three more”, it just became a staple. Eventually, people were reaching out to me asking if they could be interviewed, which was quite flattering.

The other piece in all of this is based in the conferences we all attend. Many times there are a few hundred people and there is no way to have meaningful conversations with all of them, all the time. If the Sit Downs are the conduit that makes those connections easier, mission accomplished.

I ran the weekly Sit Downs for two full years, but eventually set them aside to focus in other areas. In terms of why bring them back, when I interviewed Dr. Leonard Press in January of this year, he described his blogging as ‘unfinished business’, which really resonated with me. It was just time. I have committed myself to posting one Sit Down every Monday in 2026.

You have occasionally mentioned your brother and the impact he has had on your life. Can you tell us about him, and how growing up in the same household influenced the way you see patients, families, and the work you do today?

My younger brother has always experienced the world a little differently. While he never fully met the diagnostic criteria for a specific label (he most closely fits the criteria for Asperger’s and/or Fragile X), he was ultimately classified as “developmentally delayed – unspecified”. Today, at 46 years old, he functions cognitively and emotionally closer to someone in his late teenage years, and yet he leads a very productive life. He didn’t walk until he was nearly three, and didn’t form sentences until close to his fifth birthday, and required extra assistance his entire childhood. His school years were filled with special education classrooms, psychological evaluations, occupational therapy, speech therapy, and countless other appointments. As children, my older sister and I didn’t fully grasp the clinical significance of it all, we just knew he needed more time, more patience, and more help. Not having a broad perspective, to us, it was just normal.

The truth is, though, that environment quietly shaped me. It wove compassion and grace into my emotional fabric long before I had words for either. I learned early that progress is not always linear, comparison can be dangerous and hurtful, and frustration often masks effort. It’s difficult for me to describe the invisible weight my parents carried, as I know many families carry who are in similar situations. My brother and I have a very strong relationship to this day, and for the most part, we operate like brothers do – in both positive and negative respects. When my dad passed away in 2024, my brother asked if I would help him try for his driver’s license; something he was never able to achieve. I helped him study and taught him to drive, and in May of 2025, at the age of 45, he obtained his driver’s license for the first time. He went out and bought himself a car the very next day, something he admitted to never believing he would do in his lifetime. It was sad for me that my dad did not get to be part of that moment, but at the same time, we were all beaming with pride at the accomplishment. My brother is a true testament to never being too old to make progress in life.

When I sit with parents now, especially those navigating uncertainty, I understand something beyond the charts and test results. I understand the waiting rooms, the quiet worries, the hope that this next intervention might make a difference. I understand what it feels like to love someone fiercely while not knowing exactly what the future holds. So truth be told, growing up in the same household as my brother didn’t just influence my empathy, it really defined it. Those experiences remind me daily that our patients are never just cases: they are sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, and friends. At the end of it all, I have a built in sense that behind every patient in Vision Therapy, is a family doing the very best they can.

After working in various practices all over the country, you now lead a VT department in the same place where your career began. What has it been like to return “home” in that way?

It truly has been great.

Returning has reminded me how rare it is to work in an environment where trust is assumed and growth is expected. I think the importance of trust, understanding, and caring between doctor and vision therapist often gets overlooked, but the doctors in our clinic truly personify that value. I have known Dr. Carole Hong for more than half my life, and our working relationship is built on trust, kindness, caring, mutual respect, and shared experiences. Our history runs deep (our moms even worked together years ago) and we have known each other’s kids since they were toddlers. Dr. Hong has consistently led with these qualities, and I do my best to return them in kind. As bosses go, she is truly one of my favorites.

A few years back, Dr. Cynthia Huang became a partner to Dr. Hong, which has really taken us to the next level. Dr. Cynthia brings a fresh perspective and gentle good humor to many areas in the office, and she really is a joy to work for, and with. She is a new mom, and the energy she brings to the environment is just fun to be around. With the legacy of the practice in Dr. Cynthia’s hands, there is no doubt Family Vision Care will continue to serve the patients and families of our community for many years to come.

Equally important to me is the team I get to work with every day. Our Vision Therapists are thoughtful, dedicated, and deeply invested in the progress of every patient they serve, and our support staff brings an incredible level of organization, care, and steadiness to the office. Together they create a culture of consistency, collaboration, and quiet excellence that I am proud to be part of.

Looking back over 25+ years, what would you say has been the most humbling lesson Vision Therapy has taught you?

Understanding that failure is a good thing. I think early on, we all have an element of wanting to be perfect, whether it is with how we talk to patients, how we instruct certain activities, or even how we discuss our craft. Although completely understandable, in that mindset, failure is often viewed as a negative, and yet a piece often forgotten is that failure is an important part of our implicit knowledge building. If you read about the VARK Method, or even Gardner’s Theory on Multiple Intelligences, failure is woven into every exploration, every sensory input, and every type of knowledge acquisition. It’s part of the reason negation is identified as such an important developmental step, because we have to learn how to eliminate that which does not serve a given purpose. Growing up as a child who feared failure, coming to terms with the positive side of failure was difficult, but once I grasped the idea that it could not only be quickly and painlessly turned into a positive, but actually be used as a tool, it was both humbling and enlightening.

I would be remiss if I did not include my dear friend Linda Sanet’s name here. Linda is responsible for showing me the importance of understanding my mistakes, while working to find the lesson in them in order to grow and improve. No matter how frustrating a situation may have been, Linda is truly the master of finding the lesson within the turmoil, and turning it into a positive. It humbles me greatly to have learned this from such an amazing teacher and friend.

Of the many lives you’ve touched, can you share a patient encounter in the vision therapy room that still fills you with pride?

It would be hard to choose just one, as I have been lucky enough to witness many success stories over the years. Each person brings their own set of challenges, and when overcome, they have all been an amazing success story, in their own right.

One of my most proud moments in the Vision Therapy room, though, actually has nothing to do with Vision Therapy. A few years ago, after sensing something felt very off during a session and asking quietly if “everything is OK?”, my then 13 year old patient burst into tears, confessed that she was sexually assaulted at age 11, and was strongly contemplating suicide. She had held things inside for more than two years, and for some reason, felt that day she could open up to me about the massive emotional weight she had been carrying in silence. In that moment, I was suddenly as much of a dad as I was a professional, and holding back my own emotions was tough. Over the course of the next 24 hours, authorities were notified, medical intervention was accessed, and she began what has been a very long and arduous journey towards recovery. Understandably, because of more pressing challenges, her Vision Therapy program was paused for the foreseeable future. Now, some 18 months later, I still check in with her mom here and there to offer my support, and I am happy to report things continue to improve, although her journey to and through emotional wellness will be lifelong.

Holding space can be a powerful tool, and the depth of its importance was redefined for me on that day. A few months after the tearful confession, my patient’s mother called to tell me she believed I had saved her daughter’s life by creating a space where she felt safe enough to speak. Although appreciative, it remains a compliment I struggle to accept.

As for the pride part, after learning the full scope of all this young lady had endured, I am so proud of what she has accomplished in her recovery. It is truly my honor to be a small part of her story.

You had a close relationship with Dr. Bob Sanet, both professionally and personally. Can you share a moment with him that, in hindsight, captures who he was as a mentor and human being, and a lesson, either spoken or unspoken from that experience, that still guides the way you show up for patients and colleagues today?

Bob was an undeniable force of nature. I have written about him quite a few times on this blog, so I will try not to repeat myself too much, but since his passing, I find myself fondly reflecting on his tutelage. Bob had a way of lifting people up with his words, with his presence, and with his heart that is pretty unique. We worked together for about six years, and with me, he was never shy about identifying an error in thinking, and yet he was equally strong in expressing support and guidance, in a most loving way. When I attended his seminar in 2023, he told me he often shares my blog posts with others, was impressed with my writing, and was proud of who I have become in the Vision Therapy room in the years since we all worked together. His words truly blew me away. Bob’s opinion has always mattered, and it was a moment that will continue to mean the world to me.

Professionally, Bob held himself to a very high standard and I believe his hope was that others would meet that standard, in their own way. Being a part of that experience is a large reason why I have worked so hard to become a better Vision Therapist at every turn. Bob identified the bar of excellence, and even now I find myself working to meet it day in and day out. Not because I want to please him and not because there is a need to ride his coat tails, but because I’ve gained an understanding that patients deserve our best, even on the days we don’t feel like giving it. After all, today might just be the day you change someone’s life forever.

When I visited Bob and Linda at their home a few months before he passed, it was clear he was weak and likely would have preferred to be left alone. Even so, he gave me everything he had in those moments. For me, that is the essence of who Bob was, and it’s how I will always remember him.

You have been open about the realities of patient care, including when things don’t go well or when patients complain. What guidance would you offer to therapists and doctors on how to process those moments, learn from them, and not let them erode their confidence or connection to their work?

I’ve had a few minor brushes with this, and one rather unpleasant one, so please know that despite my efforts to share mostly positive content and information on this blog, I am not at all immune to the negative side of direct patient care.

Something I work hard to remember is patient complaints are data, not verdicts. Discomfort does not automatically mean something went wrong, but instead, a mismatch exists between our intention and their perception. Negativity from patients often comes because their internal experience feels strained, confusing, or disappointing and their nervous system is signaling distress. Without assigning blame to anyone, ourselves included, we need to honor their concern with acknowledgment, validation, and empathy, and do what we can to work through it. Sometimes, unfortunately, this means we need to get out of the way and let someone else do the work. Patient complaints are an unfortunate but very human byproduct of working closely with people and caring deeply about their outcomes. In the moment, listen to the concerns, learn what you can from them, and if needed, figure out how you would do things differently next time. For the emotional strain, the only advice I would offer is to remember that no matter what happens, the sun will still rise tomorrow, and we will have the chance to grow and do better.

Lastly, your career has spanned eras of significant change in Vision Therapy. What do you think of those changes, and as a great Vision Therapist, what legacy do you hope to leave in the years ahead?

Change is inevitable in any professional world, and Developmental Optometry is no exception. One thing I have gathered in my 25+ years in Vision Therapy is there are many different opinions about how to deliver the best patient care, and there certainly is value in listening to all of them. It doesn’t mean we should immediately put into practice every idea we hear, but at the same time, those ideas may be seeds planted for solutions to a future problem, so there has always been value in understanding them.

In terms of legacy, the “great” adjective really makes me uncomfortable because I don’t see myself in that way. I just try to bring my best to each patient at every turn, in hopes of making a difference. If I can live up to that, and my patients are successful, the rest is gravy.

Closing Thoughts: I am deeply grateful to everyone who has supported this blog over the years and to those who have spent time with the Sit Downs. It has been a privilege to interview so many remarkable people and to share their stories, insights, and perspectives with our community in a way that is honest, unfiltered, and unedited. These conversations have shaped my thinking as much as they have informed the work itself, and I continue to learn something meaningful from each one. I look forward to the year of conversations ahead and to continuing the dialogue with colleagues, mentors, and friends across our field. Cheers!