Rest in peace, Stephen Hawking

"Although I cannot move and I have to speak through a computer, I am free in my mind" Stephen Hawking.

You have been a milestone that has changed the perception that existed of human beings before you made yourself known. Before, society was divided between capable people and people with disabilities. Where the latter were cornered, as useless beings, who had to be given food, clothing and footwear, but nothing more. They were not productive as human beings. No one wondered what capabilities they could develop within their limitations. They were not educated, because they were thought to be incapable of learning.

But you appeared in the media. They began to write about you. You were seen in public. We hear the voice of a human being, whom despite the tremendous struggle you had with your physical, gradually deteriorated, your mind was not only bright, but far exceeded the limits and the intellectual capacities of the rest of humans.

You were the antithesis of the canon that mass media, had created on the perfect man in the 20th century. Your body was not muscular, nor strong, nor aesthetic, nor the tall nor handsome one sold in movies, but quite the opposite. It was the prison of your mind. Nor were you the typical father, the backbone of the family stability. You were not the strong and husky man who cares, but one who had to be cared for, loved and accepted with all his needs.

You created great expectations for those of us who saw you or listened to you. Not all human beings had to respond to pre-established canons to be valid. We reflected, understood and coined new terms such as "diversity", "high capacities", "accessibility", "tolerance", among others.

I must confess that I have never read you. Not because I do not want to know what you have written. It's just that I could not. Since I was 8 to 16 years old I was the nanny, caregiver, hands and feet of someone much older than me. Thus, I have special sensitivity for human beings who cannot fend for themselves. If I had read something of what you wrote I would have had to do it crying, imagining you writing with all those difficulties that you faced each day to put one letter after another, or later, with that computer, reading your thoughts.

I recognize that you have made the information and communication technicians have racked their brains to get you to communicate with the world. That is another of your contributions to the world of technology. This caused us to coin a new concept of "freedom", not based on the "freedom of physical movement", but on the freedom of the movement and intellectual evolution of the mind.

I admire you, too, for your struggle for life. In a society where life seems to lack all value. Where there is abortion, people are violated, killed, murdered, fought in wars, taken deadly drugs, committing terrorist acts, trafficking in human life, or committing suicide… It is very valuable that someone like you, who had a very poor quality of life, would cling to it with such a zeal.

The media say that you were a brilliant mind, but with a few friends. I wonder what humor for chattering a human being can have in your difficult physical circumstances. Would you also have to be cheerful all day? Would you have to pretend that the pain you felt was nothing? Should you have acted as if you would not have liked to walk hand in hand, run, jump, shave yourself, shower by your own, swim, ski, sit dawn quietly in a park and be able to turn your head to watch the children play from here to there ... and many other movements that most of us do automatically, without giving them the value they have, until we lose the ability to do them? I can understand that, having an intellectually developed mind like yours, your emotive and affective part were fragile. It is impossible to be one hundred percent in everything. I know, from the experience I had with my mum’s aunt whom I took care of, that when someone depends for almost everything of others, their humor becomes more and more sour, and the relationships with your loved ones, more and more difficult. Although you and my aunt had completely opposite minds. Your intellect was brilliant, hers, the poor one, who could not go to school, also depended on me for me to read. She liked that I did it, because it relieved her from being tied to her wheelchair, and with my reading, she let her imagination fly through unknown worlds. So, I understand the pleasure that you should have always felt for reading, for taking your mind beyond our known world, to accept futuristic theories about the human being, to lay the foundations for another kind of world.

Thank you for all you have contributed to the twentieth century, the twenty-first and the coming centuries.

Descansa en paz, Stephen Hawking

  "Aunque no puedo moverme y tengo que hablar a través de una computadora, en mi mente yo soy libre" Stephen Hawking.

Tú has sido un hito que ha cambiado la percepción que existía de los seres humanos antes de que tu te dieras a conocer. Antes la sociedad estaba dividida entre personas capaces y personas discapacitadas. Donde estas últimas eran arrinconadas, como seres inútiles, a los que había que alimentar, vestir y calzar, pero nada más. No eran seres humanos productivos. Nadie se preguntaba qué capacidades podrían llegar a desarrollar dentro de sus limitaciones. No se les educaba, porque se creía que eran incapaces de aprender.

Pero apareciste tú en los medios de comunicación. Y se comenzó a escribir, a ver en público, a escuchar la voz de un ser humano que, a pesar de la tremenda lucha que mantenías con tu físico, paulatinamente deteriorado, tu mente no era tan solo brillante, sino que superaba con mucho los límites y las capacidades intelectuales del resto de los humanos. 

Tú eras la antítesis del canon que los medios de comunicación, sobre el hombre perfecto, habían creado en el siglo XX. Tu cuerpo no era musculoso, ni fuerte, ni estético, ni alto ni guapo que se vendía en las películas, sino todo lo contrario. Era la prisión de tu mente. Tampoco eras el típico padre, columna vertebral de la estabilidad familiar. Ni eras el hombre fuerte y fornido que cuida, sino uno que debía ser cuidado, amado y aceptado con todas sus carencias.

Creaste expectativas para los que te veíamos o escuchábamos sobre ti. No todos los seres humanos teníamos porqué responder a unos cánones prestablecidos para ser válidos. Reflexionamos, comprendimos y acuñamos nuevos términos como “diversidad”, “altas capacidades”, “accesibilidad”, “tolerancia”, entre otros.

Debo confesar que yo no te he leído. No porque no desee saber lo que has escrito. Es que no he podido. Yo, desde los 8 hasta los 16 años fui la niñera, cuidadora, manos y pies de otra persona mucho mayor que yo. Así que tengo especial sensibilidad ante los seres humanos que no pueden valerse por si mismos. Si yo hubiera leído algo de lo que tu escribiste hubiera tenido que hacerlo llorando, imaginándote escribiendo con todas esas dificultades que cada día enfrentabas para poner una letra tras otra, o luego, con esa computadora, leyendo tus pensamientos. 

Reconozco que has hecho que los técnicos de la información y la comunicación se hayan devanado los sesos para conseguir que te comunicaras con el mundo. Ese esa es otra de tus aportaciones al mundo de la tecnología. Esto hizo que acuñáramos un nuevo concepto de “libertad”, no basado en la “libertad del movimiento físico”, sino en la libertad del movimiento y evolución intelectual de la mente.

Te admiro también por tu lucha por la vida. En una sociedad donde la vida parece carecer de todo valor. Donde se aborta, se asesina, se viola, se mata, se lucha en guerras, se toman drogas mortales, se cometen actos terroristas, se trafica con la vida humana, o donde la gente se suicida; tiene mucho valor que alguien como tú, que tenía una calidad de vida paupérrima, se aferrara a ella con tanto ahínco. 

Dicen los medios que eras una mente brillante, pero de pocos amigos. Yo me pregunto qué humor para chácharas puede tener un ser humano en tus difíciles circunstancias físicas. ¿Tendrías, además, que estar alegre todo el día? ¿Tendrías que fingir que no era nada el dolor que sentías? ¿Tendrías que haber actuado como si no te hubiera gustado pasear cogido de la mano, correr, saltar, poder afeitarte, ducharte, nadar, esquiar, sentarte tranquilamente en un parque y volver la cabeza a observar a los niños jugar de acá para allá… y otros muchos movimientos que la mayoría hacemos de forma autómata, sin darle el valor que tienen, hasta que perdemos la capacidad de hacerlos? Yo puedo comprender que, teniendo una mente intelectualmente tan desarrollada como la tuya, tu parte emotiva y afectiva fuera frágil y quebradiza. Es imposible ser un ciento por cien en todo. Yo sé, por la experiencia que tuve con aquella tía de mi madre a la que cuidé que, cuando alguien depende para casi todo de otros, el humor se vuelve cada vez más agrio, y las relaciones con tus seres queridos, cada vez más difíciles. Aunque tu y mi tía teníais una mente completamente opuesta. Tu intelecto era brillante, el de ella, la pobre, que no pudo ir a la escuela, dependía también de mí para que yo le leyera. A ella le gustaba que yo lo hiciera porque le aliviaba el sufrimiento de estar atada a su silla de ruedas, y con mi lectura, ella dejaba volar su imaginación por mundos desconocidos. Así entiendo el placer que tú siempre debiste sentir por la lectura, por llevar tu mente más allá de nuestro mundo conocido, de aceptar teorías futuristas sobre el ser humano, de sentar bases para otro tipo de mundo.

Gracias por todo lo que has aportado al siglo XX, al XXI y los siglos venideros.