Difficult Week: Mrs. K

I've had a hard time emotionally this week. Several things came in together, one of them - despite some sort of prior intimation - a severe shock. I'm talking about the demise of Mrs. K, my school-teacher, from cancer, in the wee hours of Thursday (IST). I have been in touch with her in the years after school, and when I last spoke to her in August, she sounded much better. What's more, she sounded incredibly positive. I think speaking with her then lulled me into a false sense of security about her health. I thought of her several times last week, and told myself I would call as soon as my abstract was ready. Alas! I forgot there existed a vast difference between Real Time and Cancer Time.

At this point, all sorts of memories are tumbling around in my head. There are two things I am very passionate about: education and the environment. Both were fostered by my parents, and developed further with Mrs. K in school. I believe she understood, long before I did, that I was as strongly motivated to teach as I was to learn, and I am glad that she allowed me that opportunity during my schooldays. It is through her and the small handful of other curious and motivated teachers I am privileged to know that I have realized that to be a teacher is NOT the "lowly profession" that a lot of people mistake it for. It wasn't a coincidence that she taught math and geography ... her understanding of the former was only matched by her curiosity about the natural world around her. I remember working on a huge "geo-" poster with her. Together we came up with a large glossary of words beginning with the letters g-e-o- ... and together we understood the terms (some of which were new to her as well) and created an informational collage (with illustrations) that was eventually remembered by the school for a long time afterward. This experience helped me to understand that curiosity is truly the first step to acquiring knowledge, and that I didn't need to be a student in order to learn something new everyday.

Upset, I was talking to my roommate Wednesday night about Mrs. K, and how awful it felt to lose her. Sometimes it is good to have another's perspective into my world. My roommate heard me through and then said, you're so lucky to have had that with a teacher. Most of us don't. The thought made me feel a lot better immediately, and I also felt happy that Mrs. K took her interest in me to far beyond school. She kept in touch with me through the years, and I got several opportunities to meet with her outside of school, under diverse circumstances, too ... right from a kundalini class in Bombay to a spring day on Roosevelt Island in NYC, where she was visiting her family. In the Christmas break of 2007, I was at a loose end. I had left my old lab and hadn't started working here yet. I was optimistic but apprehensive, and felt like I was walking within a dense fog of the old lab. I met her once during that time. She was aware of what had happened, and asked me questions about my situation. She helped me feel positive by telling me of similar experiences she'd heard of, from other family members, including her son who also went through a rough patch during his graduate studies. She armed me with much more than vicarious experience, though; she armed me with a strong dose of confidence at a time when I needed it most.

It was with that spirit of confidence that I believe - and hope - that she tackled her diagnosis. I felt that she was upset that day in May when she told me about it, but that was nothing compared to how upset I felt. It is strange the way human nature (perhaps only me) works. It is so easy to be complacent about people you "know" will "always" be there. I have had some rude shocks over the years, they have made me feel about family and loved ones the way a jeweler would feel about a piece of hand-crafted heirloom jewelry. But, that day, on the phone with Mrs. K, unable to do anything for a while but yammer about how I felt she'd "feel better soon", the sudden possibility of her absence woke me up to what her presence - even if occasional - meant to me, in my life. I tried to keep in touch with her through my family, and was so happy and relieved when I heard that she was doing much better. What I realize now is that, maybe, "much better" was a relative term, the disparity arising from and being skewed by the disconnect between BC (Before Cancer) and AD (After Diagnosis). At any rate, I didn't anticipate our talk in August to be the last time I ever would interact with her. So, although I know she was released from a lot of pain, it upset me far more than I anticipated when I heard she was no more. It is hard to imagine my world with one less wonderful mentor! As I hope to join the teaching profession someday, I feel fortunate to have examples such as hers to follow. And, from the depths of this void that seems to have opened up within me, I know I can claim to have done my job well if one student felt the same about me as I do about Mrs. K.

Hahahaha .... Oooops!!

Most "normal" people with "networks" discuss their ideas and results with their peers before going to their supervisors. This technique saves time and trouble for the busy supervisor, and, more importantly, saves a potential world of embarrassment for the junior. Not so with me, apparently.

I do have a "network", and I am starting to "use" it a lot more now, but I am essentially a loner. My ideas, when they happen, are usually my own. Coming from my past experience, it has not been easy to open up about new things to anyone. I am always nervous that I will be ridiculed, the way I was earlier. Recently, though, the combination of more knowledge and skills, more reading of the literature, and a lot more confidence has resulted in more ideas and input into what I will describe as the general body of research in the lab. My excitement at being able to contribute intellectually battles with my reticence --- and excitement has been winning a lot these days. Indiscriminately, I'm afraid!

Can't say more, but today I made a blooper in the funniest --- and most embarrassing --- manner! The only redeeming point was that I also had some really superb results (on a different project) which may lead to another patent application ... so I was more amused at myself than embarrassed. For the moment, that is.

Note to self: THINK before you talk. Or show anyone any results that you think are "super-cool"!