MadMen and Mentors

Mentors (--) and madmen have such seething brains

Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend

More than cool reason ever comprehends.

           ---Shakespeare 

No, that is not a picture of my mentor.  But I thought, he exuded wisdom, and since I had not used this picture anywhere, and since it fit this post. Vietnam, 2009.

While we are at it, why not publish another one.  As spring runs towards us, and I hear the birds chirping louder than ever.  It is time again to think of those who have helped me, and those who have been my support.

Mentors, so important.  I have suffered in many ways from not having a strong support or mentors.  But those who have been there, even when they were not assigned that role in my life, are deeply appreciated.

Here is to Prof. G, who has been there all these years and always responded to my emails of confusion with a wisdom that can only come from both having examined and reflected on life, and having lived a life of integrity.

First published on July 11, 2014--here it is for the readers again.  Happy Sunday. 


If I remember correctly it was May of 1999, San Francisco.  I was there for a conference, and job hunting. Still a student, in the middle of writing, I was hoping to finish that fall.  I was hoping. I was unsure of so much  But I was sure that I had lost any sense of 'utility'.

On purpose I had opted for research assistantships rather than teaching ones, since I already had a teaching background.  So, since I had been away from formal teaching for about 6 years, although I taught at upward bound during summers, I was not sure where I would apply for jobs after my Phd. I was working on the tried and tested path of  'consultancies'.  Since I had worked with two of them in Washington DC.  

There is a glow on this man's face that accompanies, old, calm souls. Vietnam, 2009. 

But the regular path after Phd, which was also enticing because of my love of ideas, love of writing and Universities, was teaching.  

I responded to one of the calls for a visiting position, and was thrilled to get a chance to meet the potential employers  

When I saw him, I was already nervous.  He was a big name in his field.  His work and experience had given him a confidence that dripped from his quiet, calm disposition.  Even though I am hardly nervous when it comes to interviews, I had knots in my stomach, which till this day, I think was due to long term uncertainty--that is still sometimes a struggle ---although I manage it well.

He extended his hand. I shook it with great respect and nervous determination, and nodded, 'My name'

He nodded, and in my nervousness, I said my name again.

That he was aware that I was afraid and nervous, is stating the obvious.  I remember what I was wearing that day.  A grey knitted suit to make me look professional.  My hair that went past my shoulders was tightly bound in a Chignon.  I kept grazing the side of my neck with my nails, because biting them would leave little doubt about the state of my mind.

We discussed the status of my writing, what I was working on, and my goals.  I tried to be as professional as a poor graduate student, desperate for a job can be.  A few weeks before that, I had taken a stance towards 'thinking abundant.' (Long before people had written 'The Secret.'  There is this whole field of changing your energy field in ancient asian traditions, that I have worked with several times.)

He was very kind and pleasant.  We parted after exchanging some notes, and he told me that he would contact me.  A week later, I heard from him --stating that they were short on funds and so will not be continuing with the position advertised.  

I took a deep breath.  Because I had heard the same from two other universities.  I was already loosing confidence, especially because i felt that I had moved away from some research related skills, and any focus on one research area.  So, keeping my calm, I sent a professional note via email requesting if anything changed that to please let me know.

Two weeks later, when I looked at my finances, I realized that I was making less than my rent and that, in that fall, the only option for employment was with the health department of the University making instructional videos --I called again.  I called because even though making videos was my heart's desire, it was a job, not a career.  It was not going to allow me to progress or to challenge and test my own abilities.  In addition, the position was only for a semester. The fear that in the next few weeks, I would have zero income had started to mount. 

When he heard me ask him about the same question, he had already given an answer to he did not get upset.  He was polite, and kind, especially considering he was the Head of the Department and surely received many of these calls. 

He stated that the department had decided to postpone the position.  Then he asked me about my writing.  I could only think in terms of my rent.  My sister had sent me a check to pay my rent, which I had left in the little shrine I had in my closet….

Many of us Indians do not go to temples and often are not ultra religious, but we all have a small shrine in our house that reminds us of this ever present 'force' in the world.  So, I had kept the check there, stating very clearly, ' At this stage of my life, I do not want to get any financial help from anyone, so show me other ways please. Ways, that lead me to believe in myself.'

In our conversation when he heard that I had no incoming money he said, like a concerned family member would talk, 'So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know'' the words just blurted out, because that is where I was mentally.

I don't remember how we ended the call. But I do remember that within 24 hours of that call, I got another call from him saying, that he has checked with his colleagues and that if I was interested I would need to move to Indiana in three weeks.  

All I remember about that moment is that blood rushed so fast through my veins that I felt dizzy. I thanked him profusely and called my sister, who lived in Arkansas, US right away.  I informed my family at home and then got started with my packing. This was before I had my driving license so I needed to get someone to drive, and get rid of all my furniture because I had limited funds --all of which were going to go towards relocation.

Once I arrived in town, he gave me a tour of the building, informed me of the basics and told me if I needed help to ask him.

That was my first university teaching assignment.  I was excited and nervous and tired.  For a good portion of that year, I would live in one of the best apartments --but with almost no furniture.  Because I did not bring any with me. I came with a bookshelf, some clothes, a few pots and pans, a library of books that did not fit in my one bookshelf, and a laptop.  

In many ways, I never really settled since then, (but until recently in Sweden, where I think I have finally unpacked.  Settling is another question, although I actually have a community in this country and a feeling that people see the real me.)  

Within the first month of working at the University I was informed that due to paper work I won't get my first paycheck until later in the year.  I had money for about month and a half of rent. If I counted groceries then I could survive my savings only one month.  When I shared it with him, he wrote me a check, that would last me until my first pay check. 

I did not even have to ask.

It is one those times when your heart is jumping in your mouth, gratitude in the form of saliva is rushing to your lips, but you cannot say a word.

Whenever we are in presence of generosity, a warm silence envelops us, that nurtures and inspires our souls.  I remember, this act of generosity came with such simplicity, that  I remained silent for the next few hours.  Even today, when I get bitter about not having much help in my journey, I remind myself of that ….to remind me that I have had help when I really needed it.

That allowed me some peace and much dignity for the next few months.  

But it was what followed in the next few months is what has made me stay in touch with him even today-- after nearly a decade and a half.  

When I had to write my very first syllabus, I showed him the first draft.  He, using his expertise, guided me through the process. When during our first conversations, I would call him, Dr. G, he would gently say, please address me by my first name, 'We are all colleagues here'.  

Slowly, I started calling him by his first name, and forged a friendship filled with respect towards him.  I was, however the sole beneficiary of this alliance :) I got to hear his wisdom on how to work on thesis, how to create assignments, how to best utilize the graduate assistants during the first years of teaching.  

Once he looked up from his glasses, after having reviewed an exam I had set for a course, "You have much to learn, still'.  He sighed and then went on to make some more corrections.

Till this day, he was the only person who actually gave me, instructions --clear instructions at that--on how make an exam or write a syllabus, despite the fact that I have a formal degree in education.

A few weeks into my working there, he found out that I had no bed in my apartment, that I was sleeping on a mattress I had brought with me.  

"But my son is away, and the  bed is free right now, you can easily borrow it.'  Less than a week later, they delivered the bed to my apartment.  Another lady who worked at the department gave me a card table and a chair ….and I had all the furniture I needed.

I felt like a princess.

To top it all-- I put up christmas lights in the bedroom, and imagined I was sleeping right under the stars.

At night I would say a few words of gratitude for all the kindness that I received from people there--I also made two life-long friends there. 

I had thought that I might even stay there another year even though the position was only for a year, but I was fortunate enough to get a tenure track position, back in Pennsylvania.  Before I left, I had him write in my 'autograph' book.  He wrote the most heart warming note about my performance in the very first year of my college teaching.    

I realized early on that he was mentoring me, gently…as he pointed out what in me needed refining, what needed working on, and what was already there that could be enhanced.  

We also had long conversations with him during that time about culture and media.  He had spent some time in India as a Peace Corp Volunteer, and we shortly talked about that.  But he had spent time in south India, where I myself had been only as a tourist. So, it was very interesting to listen to his perspective.  

However, the best part of this is that after all these years I still keep in touch with him.  Whenever there is a news, or a movement in my life, I have to share, since he was there at its onset. 

Whenever I look back, I am so humbled that he took the time to mentor someone as green and alien as I.  Considering I was going to be there only for a year, he put in much time to orient and direct me. Sometimes I wonder 'why?'

But then I know that mentors and mad men are like potters and sculptors ---they see something in clay and stones that others don't.  In my case, I am not a piece of art, far from it, but without this little mentoring and guidance I would be a lot wobblier than I am.  I can pass for a figurine moulded in plaster of paris.  But that is much, much appealing than a blob, which is what I was when I first met him.

I remain ever so grateful that he, despite all my failings, took the part in me that wanted to learn, that wanted to survive, that wanted to live, and pointed it to the road.

Over the years I have asked for many a guidance, and he has always been generous with his advice.  I know I will always be in touch with him, but I also know, that because of him, because of what I got, I will  stop, every time I see a nervous student --and look for the parts that can be polished so that the nervousness turns into a belief in one's self!!