Every time UBC glassblower Brian Ditchburn sees a pink tricycle, he remembers his daughter, Kaelin: he never got the chance to teach her how to ride a bike.
Grief hits at odd moments, he says, and never really goes away. "I feel it every day - but what are you going to do?" He's standing in his steampunk-esque workshop, the only dedicated glassblower on UBC's Point Grey campus, where he repairs or creates specialty glassware for chemists. Every surface in the workshop is stuffed with glassware, tubes, and equipment. A photo of Kaelin and her brother Ewan sits above his work station, watching over Brian as he works.
Brian's is an intricate job - the glassware can cost thousands of dollars if bought, but he creates it, as well as custom items, from scratch at a fraction of the price. He also repairs about 90 per cent of the glassware brought into the lab, where constantly burning torches keep the temperature toasty. "Brian is a key member of the department, and a rare one; few chemistry departments across the country have full-time glassblowers," says Dr. Laurel Schafer, head of the UBC chemistry department.
He's been working at UBC for 25 years. Ten years ago, he lost Kaelin. She had an undiagnosed seizure disorder which meant she was developmentally delayed. "Every time she had a seizure, she'd forget everything. But the important thing is, she knew she was loved. We were lucky - this disorder could have caused her to be grumpy or angry. She was a darling."
"Everyone knows at least someone in their family or friend group who has a child that needs help. The hospital deserves all of our help."
Brian Ditchburn
glassblower, ubc department of chemistry.
Kaelin was a frequent visitor to B.C. Children's Hospital. "Her seizures happened regularly enough that the ambulance crews knew who we were."
Brian had always made beaker mugs during his time as a glassblower. Literally a beaker with a glass handle attached, scientists seem to love them. As he spent countless hours at B.C. Children's, speaking with the nurses who cared for his daughter so well, he began gifting them the mugs as well.
Brian has always donated part of his pay cheque to children's hospitals, but when Kaelin died at age eight, he began selling the beaker mugs to raise money for B.C. Children's and for the Surrey Centre for Child Development, where Kaelin also spent time. "Everyone knows at least someone in their family or friend group who has a child that needs help. The hospital deserves all of our help."
Icicle ornaments for the holidays
But that's not the only way Brian gives back to others.
Every year, the UBC chemistry graduate student organization hosts an end-of-year raffle, raising funds for a charity of the students' choice. One of the prizes is a special glass-blowing workshop where Brian teaches the winning students how to make glass icicles for the holidays, as gifts for their friends and family.
Jana Caine, a doctoral student, won the raffle last year. "Brian spent several hours teaching us from scratch how to work glass and how to add colours and patterns, and once we were confident, told us to come by whenever we wanted. I ended up spending three days in the workshop, making about 50 icicles. It was so much fun."
Brian started making the icicles as a student, selling them at craft fares to earn some spare cash, but now hands them out to people in the department. He mixes in coloured glass to create red and green patterns, or delicate swirls of icy blue. "They're probably all sick of icicles by now."
Brian also offers 'destructive therapy' for anyone in need of it. Under strict safety protocols, stressed-out students can hurl unsalvageable glass lab equipment at the ground. "Sometimes you see people wandering around looking like zombies when it's exam time. Managing your stress is important."
Others found a friendly ear. Engineering technician Dr. Matthew Reish took glassblowing in undergrad and discovered the workshop during a UBC orientation three years ago. "I hit it off with Brian and started coming in before work, partly to relearn things I used to be able to do and partly to hang out with Brian. He would give me advice on things I was having trouble with and showed me how to make the icicles. He's a really easy person to talk to, and he says the chair is always open."
This open-door policy permeates Brian's interactions. If students want to learn about glassblowing, or if anyone just wants to chat, they're welcome. He says he has become something of a de facto grief counsellor in the department: folks drop by to speak to him about their own losses. The lab is a safe place, and he lets people know: what you're going through is survivable. "We're so thankful to have this technical expertise coupled with an empathetic, compassionate and genuinely kind individual," says Dr. Schafer, adding that she gifted her father-in-law a beaker mug from Brian. "He loved it."
Brian has been making icicles again this December with the raffle winners, and says one of the hardest parts of this job he's had for 25 years is losing a new group of friends every year or so when the students graduate. But his door is always open to help students learn a new skill, de-stress by smashing glass, or just chat.
