Paul Nurse: Discussing Family Trees in School can be Dangerous - The Moth

Summary

The Moth Podcast Summary: Paul Nurse – "Discussing Family Trees in School Can Be Dangerous"

Release Date: July 27, 2009

Introduction

In this poignant episode of The Moth, Nobel Laureate and renowned geneticist Paul Nurse shares a deeply personal narrative that intertwines his professional expertise with a life-altering family secret. Recorded live at The Moth's main stage in June 2009, under the theme of "matter stories of atoms and eaves," Nurse's story delves into the intricate connections between genetics, family dynamics, and personal identity.

Early Life and Family Background

Paul Nurse begins by introducing himself not just as a scientist but as someone deeply influenced by his familial roots. Growing up in 1950s and 60s London, Nurse describes his upbringing in a modest household. His father was a blue-collar worker, and his mother worked as a cleaner. Unlike his siblings, who left school at 15, Nurse excelled academically, securing a university scholarship and eventually earning a PhD. Reflecting on his divergent path, Nurse shares:

"I wondered, why am I different to the rest of my family? Why did they all leave school at 15...? I felt a bit unsettled about that." [04:20]

This early sense of being different sets the stage for the revelations that follow.

Academic and Career Achievements

Nurse's academic journey is marked by significant milestones. He ascended to roles such as an Oxford professor, departmental chair, and eventually was knighted for his contributions to science. In 2003, Nurse moved to New York City to become the president of Rockefeller University, further cementing his status in the scientific community. Despite his professional success, a lingering curiosity about his family’s history remained.

The Green Card Incident and The Discovery

In 2007, while navigating the complexities of immigration, Nurse encountered a bureaucratic hurdle that inadvertently exposed his family's concealed past. Applying for a green card, Nurse meticulously submitted his documents, confident in their accuracy. However, his application was rejected due to issues with his birth certificate. Frustrated, he recounts:

"I thought, how come I'm rejected? I'm a knight, I've got a Nobel Prize... this did seem more than a little ridiculous." [06:50]

Determined to rectify the situation, Nurse pursued a more detailed birth certificate. Upon receiving it, he discovered glaring inconsistencies—his mother's name was incorrectly listed as his sister's, and no father was mentioned. This discrepancy led Nurse to a startling realization about his own heritage.

Unveiling Family Secrets

The revelation was both shocking and heartbreaking. Nurse learned that his sister had become pregnant at 17 and that, in an attempt to preserve family honor, his grandmother had hidden his true parentage. Nurse explains:

"I began to think... that's why I'm a bit different." [08:30]

Connecting the dots, Nurse contacted his great aunt in Norwich, confirming the painful truth: he was the result of an illegitimate birth, concealed by his family to protect their reputation. This secret had been maintained for over half a century, leaving Nurse without the paternal lineage he had always assumed.

He poignantly describes the moment of truth:

"I was looking at this thinking, oh, my God, the registry office have cocked up again... and then my wife comes up and says, you know what this might mean, Paul?" [10:15]

Reflections on Genetics and Family

As a geneticist, Nurse reflects on the irony of his situation—his scientific understanding of genes contrasted sharply with his family's ability to keep a genetic secret. He muses:

"The final irony here really is I'm not a bad geneticist and my rather simple family kept my own genetic secret for over half a century." [11:55]

This introspection highlights the profound impact of genetics on personal identity and the lengths to which families may go to protect their members from societal judgment.

Conclusion

Paul Nurse's story is a compelling intersection of science and personal history, illustrating how genetics extends beyond the laboratory and into the fabric of our lives. His honesty and vulnerability offer listeners a unique perspective on the complexities of family heritage and the enduring quest for self-understanding.

As Nurse eloquently concludes, his family's concealment of his true parentage did not diminish his accomplishments but added a layer of depth to his appreciation of both his personal and professional journeys.

Notable Quotes

Paul Nurse [04:20]: "I wondered, why am I different to the rest of my family? Why did they all leave school at 15...? I felt a bit unsettled about that."
Paul Nurse [06:50]: "I thought, how come I'm rejected? I'm a knight, I've got a Nobel Prize... this did seem more than a little ridiculous."
Paul Nurse [08:30]: "I began to think... that's why I'm a bit different."
Paul Nurse [10:15]: "I was looking at this thinking, oh, my God, the registry office have cocked up again... and then my wife comes up and says, you know what this might mean, Paul?"
Paul Nurse [11:55]: "The final irony here really is I'm not a bad geneticist and my rather simple family kept my own genetic secret for over half a century."

Final Thoughts

Paul Nurse's narrative serves as a testament to the hidden stories that shape us and the profound ways in which our backgrounds influence our identities. The Moth continues to provide a platform for such transformative stories, bridging the gap between personal experiences and universal themes.

For more captivating stories, visit The Moth and explore their extensive collection of true human tales.

Transcript

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Dan Kennedy (1:22)

Welcome to the Moth Podcast. I'm Dan Kennedy. The Moth features true stories told live without notes. All stories on the podcast are taken from our ongoing storytelling series in New York and Los Angeles and from our tour shows across the country. Visit themoth.org the story you're about to hear by Paul Nurse was recorded live at the Moth main stage in June this year. The theme of the night was matter stories of atoms and eaves, and the show was a collaboration with the World Science Festival. To learn more, visit worldsciencefestival.com.

Paul Nurse (1:59)

I'm a geneticist. I study how chromosomes are inherited in dividing cells. But my story tonight will be more to do with my own genetics. You probably gathered. I'm English. I was brought up in the 50s and 60s in London. My family wasn't very rich. I had two brothers, I had a sister. My dad was a blue collar worker, my mum was a cleaner. My siblings all left school at 15 and I was a little bit different. I sort of did quite well at school. I passed exams and then I somehow got into university, got a scholarship and then did a PhD. But I wondered, why am I different to the rest of my family? Why did they all leave School at 15, which is in fact what happened? Well, I didn't really have much of an answer, but I felt a bit unsettled about that. You know, I wondered about it occasionally, but I carried on with my life. I got a Job in a university. I got married, I had two children, Emily and Sarah, and, you know, just got on with things. Then my parents, who had been living in London, they retired to the country and we used to visit them regularly. But the truth was it was a bit boring, you know, they lived in the middle of nowhere, nothing much happened there. And my kids, who were perhaps 9 or 10 or 11, got a bit bored when they went there. And Sarah, my 11 year old, had a project at school and the project was family trees. I have to tell you, family trees are very bad projects to have at school. And I said, I got a great idea, you know, I know you get a bit bored at Grandma's, why don't you talk to grandma about her family tree? So we get there, you know, we have dinner and then off Sarah trots, takes Grandma next door to talk about her family tree. Five minutes later, in comes my mum, absolutely white, absolutely white. And she comes over to me and she said, sarah's been asking me about my family tree and I have to tell you something that I've never told you. I was in my 30s by this time, I was in my 30s. She said, I never told you. But what my mum said is, she said, actually I'm illegitimate. This is what my mum said, I'm illegitimate. She'd been born in 1910. Her mum wasn't married, she'd been born in the poorhouse, she wasn't from a wealthy family and she was brought up by her grandmother and her mother had married somebody else who I thought was my grandfather, but that wasn't the case. My grandfather was unknown, so I'd lost a grandfather. Then she turned to me and said, and actually it's the same for your father too. So in two sentences, I'd lost two grandfathers. Well, this was a bit of a shock. And then I began to think about it and I thought, well, maybe this is where I got some exotic genes from somewhere and they sort of recombined and, and that's why I'm a bit different. And then I remembered that my middle name was Maxime and I got it from my dad who was called Maxime William John and you know, he was a sort of farm worker in the country. That's where he came from in Norfolk. And I tell you, in Norfolk, farm workers are not called Maxime usually. This is a French, Russian, aristocratic sort of name. And it did seem a little odd. So I began to sort of imagine that perhaps, you know, I had an exotic grandfather's, you know, a French, Russian Aristocrat and, you know, blah, blah, blah. And that was why I ended up how I was. And so that seemed all okay, that seemed a reasonable explanation. And, you know, I forgot about things and I got on my career and I became Oxford professor, then a departmental chair, then they knighted me, and then I got a Nobel Prize a few years ago. So that's all hunky dory. And then in, in 2000, in 2003, I decided to come to New York City. Both my parents had died, they lived to their 80s and 90s. And so I came with my family to New York City to be president of Rockefeller University in Upper Eastside. And a couple of years ago, 2007, I thought I should try and get a green card. Have you ever seen those poor bastards, all their queuing up when you come into immigration, they're all people like me who have to wait there for an hour and a half and have their fingerprints all done anyway. And so if you have a green card, residence card, you avoid that. Okay, So I applied for a green card. Huge amount of paperwork, you've no idea how complicated it is. Sent the thing off, waited a number of months, came back and I was rejected. And I thought, how come I'm rejected? I'm a knight, I've got a Nobel Prize and I'm president of Rockefeller University and they reject me for a green card. I know Homeland Security has high standards, but I mean, this did seem more than a little ridiculous. So I looked through all the paperwork and I eventually found out they did not like the documentation I'd sent with my application. So I went through it and I picked out they particularly didn't like my birth certificate. So I got my birth certificate out and it was a so called short birth certificate which we have in Britain, which names who you are, where you were born, the time you were born, your citizenship and so on. It doesn't happen to quite name your parents. Okay, so perfectly official documents, but that's what I had. And so I thought, well, I can go and get the long certificate. I knew the registry office would have it. So I phoned up London, the registry office and said, please send that in the post. I told my secretary, my office, when it arrives, bundle it all up again, send it off to those silly jerks in Homeland Security. I went on holiday for a couple of weeks, went to New Zealand, came back, undoing all at the mail, looking at my emails and so on. Several people in my room. I had my secretary, her assistant, my wife who came in, my lab manager was around, so quite a few people around. And then I remembered that I told my secretary to get this package sent off. So I asked her, did you manage to do that? And she turned to me and she said, well, I didn't do it, she said, because the certificate arrived, I looked at it and I thought maybe you got the name of your mother wrong. I said, of course I didn't get the name of my mother wrong. Don't be absolutely ridiculous. So she handed me the certificate and everybody sort of started to look at me. You know, it's a bit of a strange conversation to have. So I open it, I look at it, and there, you know, the name Nurse is my, you know, my mother. And I say, well, you know, not a problem there. And then I look at it again and the name was Miriam Nurse. And that was the name of my sister. It was not the name of my mother at all. It was the name of my sister. So I'm looking at this thinking, oh, my God, the registry office have cocked up again, you know. And then I look a bit further and where it says Father, there's just a line, just a dash, no Father. And then my wife comes up and says, you know what this might mean, Paul? And I was a bit slow, actually, and I really didn't quite realize what it might have meant. And then slowly, you know, the clouds, you know, roll away. My sister was 18 years and one month older than me. Okay, now, I haven't told you, but not only both my parents had died, who are actually now my grandparents, but also my mother. She died early of multiple sclerosis three or four years before. So I had nobody, and all that generation had died. I had nobody to confirm if this story was true. However, on the birth certificate was the place where I was born, and it was my great aunt's house about 100 miles from London in a city called Norwich. And my great aunt had a daughter who was 11 years of age when I was born. So I phoned her up and said, do you know anything about this? And she said, yes, I do. She said, your sister became pregnant at 17 and she was sent to her aunt's in Norwich, 100 miles away from home. This is like a Dickensian novel, as you can see, and she gave birth to you and her mother. My grandmother came up and pretended that the baby was hers and she sent your real mother back home and. And several months later, she took you back, pretending that she was your mother. And we all lived together in this two bedroom apartment for two and a half years. And then my real mother got married and left home. And there's a photograph of me in this wedding. My mother, my real mother is holding the hand of her husband in one hand and my hand in the other because you realize this was her leaving me with her parents. She never told her husband, so the whole thing was kept secret for over half a century. Now, at the same wedding I crawled under the table, a gate leg table which had the wedding cake and I managed to move the leg and the wedding cake fell off the table and smashed into p. I wonder whether I was revolting at the thought of my mother being taken away. Now this was a tragedy, I'm sure, for my mother. I was brought up happily, a little dully maybe by my grandparents, but this was, I'm sure, a tragedy for my mother. She had three children and she kept four photographs of babies by her bed. I only learnt this after her death. Three were her legitimate children and I was her fourth illegitimate child. Well, what's the final irony here really is I'm not a bad geneticist and my rather simple family kept my own genetic secret for over half a century. Thank you.