Physics

Harry sits across the round table in my campus office just after lunchtime. A quiet man with a large brain and a similar-sized heart, his career as a physicist has put him in the company of Nobel laureates and garnered him invitations to speak around the globe about his own work. You’d never know it, though, because he’s as unassuming as he is smart.

Harry is my neighbor and friend. He has dropped by my office to tell me about Al, a colleague of his just diagnosed with Parkinson’s.

We speak about Al, touch on life in our university, and update one another on our families. Then, I mention how excited my daughter Meredith is to take physics next year in school. “She’s long been bookish but, until last year, found math more difficult than her other subjects,” I say. That’s when her teacher, Sean, broadened her mathematical mind. He also helped ease her anxiety and build her confidence in ways no previous math teacher had. “Sean met her where she was and helped her find and flip the switch. Then, the light came on,” I say. “She began to think of math differently, to approach it in a new way, and to see herself as a mathematician. It was then that she got the physics bug.”

Harry’s smile raises his kind eyes as he begins telling me of his own story with math. “Growing up in Louisiana, I was a middling student in high school. Then, a teacher named Dessie McKenzie Tucker introduced me to geometry and to different ways of approaching math,” he says. “I learned to do a few proofs and I thought, ‘I’m pretty good at this, and it’s fun,’ and I kept working at it and learning.”

Harry hasn’t stopped. Now in his 80s, he continues to write academic papers, advises students, and shows no signs of letting up.

Parkinson’s

Our conversation reminds me of something Robert Frost observed, namely, that “There are two kinds of teachers: the kind that fills you with so much quail shot that you can’t move, and the kind that just gives you a little prod behind and you jump to the skies.” Then, I begin thinking about my Parkinson’s teachers; those who’ve prodded me, often without knowing, to live my best life with this illness.

There are physicians and scientists like Drs. McCarty, Peckham, Ondo, Okun, Dorsey, Savica, and others; and celebrities who have written books or given interviews about life with Parkinson’s: Michael J. Fox being at the top of the list. I continue to learn from their insights and wisdom, which helps me live better with this illness and, I hope, to support others as well.

The understanding gleaned from additional teachers is where I linger, those also who walk their own Parkinson’s path. There’s Dan, who looks “the Animal” in the eye daily and tells it it’s not going to win that day. There’s Ethan, who so naturally shares his quick wit and good humor, reminding me that joy and laughter can live beside loss and tears. There’s also Keri, whose determination to learn as much about the latest research and treatment options and to share these findings empowers me and others, building resilience and resolve. And there’s Michael, whose artistic eye sees with degrees of clarity and precision that I can only dream of, and who lives amid daily challenges with admirable kindness and grace.

Jumping to the Skies

Each of these teachers, along with others, has met me where I am and helped broaden my mind. They’ve all prodded me with their personal examples, with their ways of being and relating, and in the more challenging moments with this devious disease, I remember what they have helped me discover about humor, wisdom, benevolence, decency, and resolve. I remember what they have helped me discover about myself, which helps ease anxiety and spurs confidence for taking Parkinson’s on.

“There are two kinds of teachers: the kind that fills you with so much quail shot that you can’t move, and the kind that just gives you a little prod behind and you jump to the skies.”

Like Meredith and Harry, I’m grateful for my teachers.

Perhaps I can introduce them to Harry’s colleague Al.

__________

Photo by Diego PH on Unsplash

Allan Cole is Deputy to the President for Societal Challenges and Opportunities at The University of Texas at Austin, where he also serves as the Bert Kruger Smith Centennial Professor in Social Work in The Steve Hicks School of Social Work and, by courtesy, as professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at the Dell Medical School. Diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 2016, at the age of 48, he is the author or editor of many books on a range of topics related to chronic illness, bereavement, anxiety, and spirituality. His latest books are Discerning the Way: Lessons from Parkinson’s Disease (Cascade), In the Care of Plenty: Poems (Resource Publications), and Counseling Persons with Parkinson’s Disease (Oxford University Press). Follow him on Twitter @PDWise.