The human side of dentistry: How dental volunteering taught me to be better

How it started

Volunteering back in 2002

I began volunteering at a nursing home right after my O-Levels in 1999 because I wanted to put my faith into practice. I found the Methodist Home for the Aged Sick (later renamed Bethany Nursing Home) in the Yellow Pages and started by helping at mealtimes and with clean-up.

Attending to the residents

Over time I heard their stories—the things they were proud of and the things they regretted. Behind every resident was a person who wanted to be heard, acknowledged, and accepted without judgment. Not just the good parts, but every detail that made them unique.

Relating it back to dentistry

I kept volunteering through national service and dental school, and after graduation I helped set up a clinic with limited instruments and no X-ray. Fresh out of school, I often felt helpless because of the equipment and my inexperience. What impacted me most was the residents’ response. Instead of anger, they offered gratitude. Many had watched me grow from a teenager into a professional and knew I had done my best.

When dentures didn’t fit, they laughed and asked me to try again. When they chose to keep a broken tooth that might otherwise be extracted, I didn’t insist; I taught the nurses to watch for signs of infection and to keep me informed. I learned that being a professional is more than technical skill—competence must be paired with compassion. Mutual respect and trust are essential for honest communication.

Original dental clinic set up in 2008

Transactional vs relational dentistry

There are times when efficiency is appropriate—young, healthy patients often want a quick, routine check and clean. But many patients, especially the elderly or medically complex, need more nuanced care. Conditions like anticoagulant use change the risk profile for extractions and surgery. Often no single “ideal” plan exists; we must sit with patients and families to understand values and explain limitations. For some, appearance and dignity matter most; others prioritize function and the ability to eat. In advanced disease, our aim may be to relieve pain as much as possible.

I prefer relational dentistry. I’ve been told by well-meaning colleagues that if I talked less, I could see more patients and earn more. To me, that’s poor economics: no amount of money replaces the satisfaction of authentic interactions and the knowledge that I’ve done my best in service of others.