Everyone knows the feeling of being alone in a crowd. Maybe
it’s arriving at a party where not only do you not know anyone, but everyone
there seems to know everyone else. The first day of work at a new job certainly
qualifies. Even if you’re confident by nature, you can’t help but have a
feeling of uncertainty, of perhaps screwing up by doing or saying something you
had no idea you weren't supposed to do or say.
For me, it was switching to a new school in the seventh
grade. It wasn't just a new classroom and building, it was jumping into a whole
new city and way of life. I’d lived my entire life in Reno, Nevada, where my
family had been socially and economically active for generations. I’d always attended
neighborhood public schools, but when we moved to San Francisco, I was a
complete unknown, stuck into a new private school in the exclusive Pacific
Heights neighborhood.
I wasn't just a fish out of water. It was more like being an
actor who stumbled onto the wrong movie set.
One day early on, a speaker addressed my class to talk about the professor in Dead Poets Society, which we were studying at the time. However, he seemed to know I was new, that I hadn't quite fit
in, yet. He pulled me to the front of the class, introduced me to the others,
and told them how lucky they were to have me there. He spoke of the courage it
took to be the new kid at an all boys’ school where everyone else had been
together since kindergarten.
That man was Robin Williams.
The next year, I tutored his first-grade son in Latin. When
he dropped his son off at school, he’d high-five me every day in the halls,
laughing and calling me the Socrates of Town School. I’d already admired him
because of his “Good Morning, Vietnam” and “Popeye” movie roles, but being in
the same room with him and knowing him even slightly in a personal way was
stunning.
Robin Williams’ sensitivity amazed me and was responsible
for my successful transition in a very unfamiliar place. It resulted in some
immediate friendships, some of which became long-lasting. His sudden death is a
personal shock I won’t be over for quite some time.
When you come to a new place, one of the things that makes
you uneasy is your lack of guideposts that you depend on for support and
backup—familiar places, dependable friends, and so-on. Robin Williams helped me
with a tough transition twenty-five years ago, and I’m convinced the whole
experience taught me not just the need to make and cherish my own personal
networks, but the sensitivity to recognize the same need in others and help as
best as I can.