Robin Williams and Me (A Personal Experience with a Great Man)

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.