Diversity of experience
If travel broadens the mind, Cynthia Izuno Macri could (but doesn’t) claim to have had a vast intellect by the time she reached Lehigh University as a freshman in 1975. In the United States, she’d lived in Hawaii and Minnesota. Overseas, she’d lived in Egypt, Greece, Mexico and Pakistan. During fourth grade, she evacuated Egypt with her family when the 1967 Six-Day War broke out with Israel. In ninth grade, they evacuated Pakistan when civil war erupted, returning when things settled down with the establishment of an independent Bangladesh. Macri completed her high school education in Islamabad.
“Leaving my family in Pakistan and coming to Lehigh was a huge adjustment,” Macri says. “Drinkable water out of a tap was foreign to me. My roommate was a sophisticated New Yorker, while I was essentially a rural Japanese American who’d spent the previous seven years overseas.”
But she credits Lehigh for giving her key academic training and opportunities that enabled her life after Lehigh to be as remarkable as her life before. Awarded a Health Professions Scholarship from the U.S. Navy, she attended medical school at Temple University after receiving her bachelor of science degree in biology at Lehigh in 1979, going on to become a gynecological oncologist. In June 2013, Capt. (and Dr.) Macri retired from a 34-year career that culminated with a post as special assistant for diversity to the chief of naval operations—an adviser to a member of the joint chiefs of staff.
“You don’t know what’s inside of you unless you put yourself in an environment where it can be developed,” Macri says.
Lack of exposure to stimulating environments wasn’t one of Macri’s problems growing up. Though much of her father’s family had been interred in relocation camps during World War II, her father was a plant geneticist teaching at the University of Hawaii at Hilo by the time Macri was born in 1958. Through the Ford Foundation, he worked on crop management at a succession of posts abroad, taking his family with him.
Macri’s experience in Pakistan for most of sixth through 12th grade proved especially formative. “We were part of a close-knit international community that was half American,” she says. Among the U.S. contingent, “Whether you were someone like my dad, a diplomat or an oil company employee, what mattered was being an American,” she says. “Nobody split hairs about what kind of an American you were or where you were from.”
In the small international high school (her class totaled 23), she excelled at academics and athletics, especially soccer. “I had 16 varsity letters and made every single team, including table tennis, for crying out loud,” she says. Competitors and teammates were often children of military attachés, career diplomats and U.S. government employees and would play against teams composed of the U.S. Marine Corps security guards. “The Marines were the cream of the crop—fit and respectful,” Macri says. “They made a huge impression on me.”
Lehigh University in 1975 was literally a world away. “The campus was 1.7-percent non-white,” she says. “There were very few Asians.” In a larger community of bright students, she was no longer top of her class. “My SATs were marginal,” she says. “I struggled academically the entire way through college.” An athletic system in which students typically specialize in one sport at a time took her by surprise. “There were more Lehigh players dressed for a football game than there were students in my entire high school,” she recalls.
And in the early days of Title IX, nobody told her that the signs she saw for soccer tryouts were for what was presumed to be an all-men’s team. “On the ride over, I realized there were no other women on the bus,” she says. But she continued attending practices and made the team. In 1977, she became a founding member of the Lehigh women’s soccer program, acting as a player-coach. “We were a bit out there on our own and spent time arranging schedules with any other school that had a women’s club,” she says. “It was really, really fun.”
As her undergraduate education neared an end, Macri went after two goals: to be a doctor and—inspired by the security guards she’d known in Pakistan—a Marine. Navy doctors provide medical care for the Corps, so she signed on with the Navy and its medical scholarship. Despite what she took to be so-so grades, she was accepted into medical school because of Lehigh’s reputation for academic rigor.
In the Navy, she again found herself in a challenging environment that could bring out her best. “Like most people who sign up, I only intended to stay four years,” she says. “But the Navy provides opportunities to explore different interests and puts people in higher positions at a younger age than in the civilian world.”
A string of responsibilities kept her in jobs she loved—such as working with cancer patients and teaching Navy medical trainees. Through positions such as director of the OB/GYN residency program at the National Naval Medical Center and vice president of recruitment and diversity at Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences, both in Bethesda, Md., she discovered she liked administration while taking note of trends in which she had a personal interest. “I found a striking lack of diversity in candidates for medical school and wondered why,” she says. “There are plenty of women and minorities, so the problem isn’t numbers. It’s that segments of these populations don’t receive enough of the right advice and preparation to enter competitive colleges.”
Macri began developing a summer biomedical science program to target promising middle school and high school students who might not otherwise be steered toward health professions. From a pilot course in Maryland, the program has been introduced to a variety of locations around the country since 2004, often with help from local community partnerships. In addition to multiple locations in Maryland, sites have included McAllen, Texas; Jacksonville, Fla.; Los Angeles; Philadelphia; Chicago; two locations in Hawaii; and military sites such as Guantanamo Bay, Cuba and Okinawa, Japan.
“As an assistant to the chief of naval operations, I was able to push the diversity issue at a high level,” Macri says. “It was my job to make recommendations to my boss about where the Navy should have visibility and how he can reinforce these efforts.” With retirement in the Navy mandatory at 30 years of commissioned service, Macri is now looking to transfer her passion and experience into diversity-oriented education in civilian life.
She’ll also have time to connect more with her husband, another retired Navy physician, and her 23-year-old daughter, who, like her mother, is familiar with the globe-trotting that can come with occasional service overseas. Says Macri: “She grew up understanding that our family had a different calling.”
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