Volume 8 • 2021 • Issue 6

Dr. Clive Friedman reflects on 40 years in pediatric dentistry and working with individuals with disabilities. The Entryway to the Divine B orn and raised in Johannesburg during the Apartheid era, Dr. Friedman became aware from an early age that staying in South Africa long term was not a sustainable option for him. Under a regime where overt racism and police brutality were part and parcel of daily life, dentistry promised to be a way out, a ticket to “anywhere but here.” “My final year of dental school cemented it for me,” he says. “We used to demonstrate on the grounds of the university and because it was private property, theoretically the police were not allowed to come onto the campus. But every now and then they would come anyway, with their dogs and their batons. As a final year dental student, I think I wired about 50 jaws. That was the last straw for me in terms of making up my mind. I was done with South Africa.” For most dentists, opting for a career in the profession likely came down to a handful of familiar considerations: the prospect of a rewarding occupation, a passion for health care and helping others, or perhaps simply a buzz for the technical or artistic side of the work. But for Dr. Clive Friedman, a pediatric dentist from London, Ontario, the decision to become a dentist was primarily about something else; it was a way for him to get out of 1970s South Africa. 32 | 2021 | Issue 6