John Roberts, Teacher and Friend

I first met John, I believe, as a student in the Foundations of Humanistic Psychology course which was required of all master’s students in the University of West Georgia’s psychology department. John was the instructor assigned to teach the course, though, in the true spirit of UWG’s humanistic psych program, it was a collaborative affair from first to last, with each of us contributing our parts – the whole of which, of course, was greater than the sum of said parts.

However we first came to meet, John and I truly came to know each other when I had the opportunity to work as his graduate assistant. It was at this juncture that I learned what a remarkable, reflective, and complicated man John is. In addition to the rather pedestrian tasks of reading and marking undergraduate papers and exams, entering grades into spreadsheets, and the like, John and I started to make a habit of meeting regularly for dinner and conversation. These occasions came to mean more and more to me over time, and it warms and encourages my heart to be able to say that I know they meant just as much to John.

What I connect most with John over is our very different, yet, at a deeper level, remarkably similar, pilgrimages through life, in biblical terms, our “wrestling with the Angel” until that Angel blesses us with the satisfactions and inner convictions that are hard-won and come through the struggle. And John, like me, knows the struggle oh so well.

It was a real gift to be able to sit with John and share, in a largely uncensored and unvarnished fashion, some of the private thoughts, feelings, hopes, and fears which had, and, no doubt, in some ways still have, residence in the recesses of our minds. To sit with a man roughly a decade my senior, and to experience in him both mentorship and friendship, often a hybrid of the two, whichever felt most needed at any given moment – this was some of the rich and meaningful fruit of our time together. And I will never forget it.

I will never forget the $5.00 meals at the UWG cafeteria, and the walks to and from Melson Hall as we began, or ended, the meeting. I will never forget the rides in John’s sporty little car (which, so he says, he always drove too fast). I will never forget the time of deepest emotion when John spoke of his son’s Bar Mitzvah. I will never forget the tears shed, the emotions tapped into, and – perhaps most of all – the renewed hope which often emerged organically from these conversations, emerging as a true by-product of the contact and connection, without any artificial forcing of the matter by either of us. That is glorious, and I am grateful for it.

Since graduating from UWG in December 2014, John and I have remained in sporadic contact, and for that I am also grateful. A few years back, when I was in the general vicinity of Atlanta visiting another friend, John and I arranged to meet up, and had a wonderful evening of conversation and fellowship around the bigger questions of life, relationship, and meaning. We picked up essentially right where we had left off, which, in my experience, is one of the hallmarks of a special friendship. I am so glad that John made time to meet with me then, and also that I chose to drive the 2+ hours to Atlanta to see him. That’s what friends do, I suppose, and I am certain that I am grateful to have John Roberts as a friend.

John, I look forward to connecting again at some point soon, hopefully in person before not too, too long. I have always admired your quest, the intensity of your personality, and your ability to see, and relate to, my own seeking in a way that involves both your supporting me on my path while also having the willingness to open your journey up to me. In the spirit of our humanistic terminology, we might say that our relationship has been one of genuine mutuality; and, at least for me, this is the very best, and most meaningful, kind of relationship there is.

Thank you, John, for being my friend, and thank you for teaching me the many lessons which you taught me. If I may hearken back to the Hebrew scriptures one additional time, I am reminded of their constant refrain of wanting one’s memory to be preserved; repeated expressions of the deep, universal human desire to be remembered and not forgotten. Well, John, as long as I have my mental faculties about me, you can rest assured that I will never forget you. You will always be remembered – and fondly, at that.