Last Tuesday our school lost one of our own. It has been absolutely devastating. Over the years our school family has said goodbye to several teachers, and even a student, some unexpected and some we sadly awaited. While none of those good-byes were easy, for the first time I felt like this was someone whose absence I will feel every day.
I don't think I'll ever forget piecing things together in the parking lot as I was told by a newer member of our family who it was that had passed. At 30, I haven't really ever had to deal with the loss of a friend. I didn't even try to hold it together as we sat in a meeting being told information most of us had already gleaned. Even recalling it is difficult for me.
Today was his viewing, where I hugged his mother and sister I had never met. I thanked his father for sharing him with us. I was told how glad they were that we were all wearing our school colors.The outpouring of support from our school was immense, and included faculty from past and present, and many of the students he coached at a local high school. He was a huge wrestling fan, so over my school shirt I wore Mick Foley red flannel - the same thing he had worn to an in-service this October. Tomorrow is his funeral, which I feel lucky to be able to attend, as many teachers at our school may struggle between deciding to honor their friend and colleague or stay at work and help to cover the 20+ individuals who will be out. He was a journalism major, and wrote, so I felt like penning something in his honor would be fitting.
Andy (which I never called him, as we were on the last-name basis that comes within a school environment) was one of the funniest, warmest and most honest people I could have hoped to work with. I really got to know him during the 2012-13 school year, when we worked on the same team. There was a group of us who ate lunch together daily, and it became the highlight of my day. I would consider each of the individuals on the team that year a friend, and he was no different. We spent lunchtimes, in-services, conferences, happy hours together, and he was our entertainment. He always made us laugh, even when I found him frustrating. As with many of my co-workers, our working relationship evolved to appreciate one another and the time we spent together that year embedded him as a friend in my heart.
The following year brought many changes to our district, including me moving out of a second floor hallway I loved, and Andy moving onto a seventh grade team in that very hallway. I remember spending time getting his new room ready, as the art teacher and I helped paint his new bulletin boards. I'm pretty sure he didn't care what the bulletin boards looked like, but was happy for the company in his new room. I'm also pretty sure I didn't do very much painting - but neither did he! I remember Andy making sure he could have music playing while our art teacher painted. And the music never stopped from his room. Over the next few years if I ever stopped in his room it was because of the music he was playing for his students. Probably the thing I most admire about Andy was the fact that he exposed our kids to the kind of music we had listened to growing up - 90's rap was his specialty. His #amrap facebook statuses became the thing of legend, everything from Skee Lo to Eminem. But he appreciated all genres not just rap; today a friend who was on the team with Andy and I that year, brought up the time he was playing En Vogue, which was one of my personal favorites. He loved Jim Morrison. Tupac vs. Biggie was a hot topic for debate. He was all over the place musically, which to me was one the best things about him. He received a Britney Spears dvd for Christmas last year from another teacher in our building. I'm sure he watched it. Probably more for her dancing than singing, but hey......
On those mornings, when I had a question for him, or just wanted to applaud the music he was blasting, he always welcomed me warmly and easily. There are many classrooms in our building that make me feel that way, but Andy's was one of the best. He wasn't one to change or stop what he was doing because I dropped in, which was great, and makes me smile just thinking of how he would wave me into the room from his desk, and make me part of it.
As difficult as Wednesday morning was, it was my 8th grade class who shared the best stories about Andy. My favorite was when he was refusing to talk to their class so he posted their assignment on the end of a broom and just walked around the room holding up the broom. His current seventh graders shared how hilarious he had found it when a student in their class, after being asked to use the word 'gruesome' in a vocab game, wrote the sentence: I grusome inches. You know Andy found it funny because he posted a picture of it to facebook. That type of humor is what made me want to write this blog in the first place. The things our students say are too funny not to share. In an effort to keep Andy with me through our shared sense of humor I am going to try to get back to posting.
Andy passed on Tuesday night, the same night I was leading our students in their winter concert. We have decided to donate all of our proceeds from the concert towards a fund set aside for Andy's children. I truly hope there is a piece I can find that will do some justice in honoring him for our spring concert. Our students have posted artwork, letters, memorials outside his classroom. I'm not looking forward to the fact that at some point they will have to come down and our district is already telling us that. I know our students and staff need closure and need to move on, but I hope it is handled in the best way for our students.
Everyone that knew you was lucky to have shared in laughter with you. You could make each day brighter with your candor, humor, wit. I'll miss your music, and emails that made me laugh so hard, I should have kept more of them. Thanks for being you, and giving so much of yourself to everyone around you, your students, athletes, children, family, and our school family. I'll never be able to walk the halls without thinking of you, and someday it won't make me well up, it will just make me smile. To know that school was the place we spent our time together, got to know one another, enjoy the music of our youth together. To know you're really still there, and always will be there as long as I can keep you there. And I certainly intend to.
You'll be missed homie, all my love.
I expect to see you again like that Tupac hologram (you know you loved that)
-Miss
I don't think I'll ever forget piecing things together in the parking lot as I was told by a newer member of our family who it was that had passed. At 30, I haven't really ever had to deal with the loss of a friend. I didn't even try to hold it together as we sat in a meeting being told information most of us had already gleaned. Even recalling it is difficult for me.
Today was his viewing, where I hugged his mother and sister I had never met. I thanked his father for sharing him with us. I was told how glad they were that we were all wearing our school colors.The outpouring of support from our school was immense, and included faculty from past and present, and many of the students he coached at a local high school. He was a huge wrestling fan, so over my school shirt I wore Mick Foley red flannel - the same thing he had worn to an in-service this October. Tomorrow is his funeral, which I feel lucky to be able to attend, as many teachers at our school may struggle between deciding to honor their friend and colleague or stay at work and help to cover the 20+ individuals who will be out. He was a journalism major, and wrote, so I felt like penning something in his honor would be fitting.
Andy (which I never called him, as we were on the last-name basis that comes within a school environment) was one of the funniest, warmest and most honest people I could have hoped to work with. I really got to know him during the 2012-13 school year, when we worked on the same team. There was a group of us who ate lunch together daily, and it became the highlight of my day. I would consider each of the individuals on the team that year a friend, and he was no different. We spent lunchtimes, in-services, conferences, happy hours together, and he was our entertainment. He always made us laugh, even when I found him frustrating. As with many of my co-workers, our working relationship evolved to appreciate one another and the time we spent together that year embedded him as a friend in my heart.
The following year brought many changes to our district, including me moving out of a second floor hallway I loved, and Andy moving onto a seventh grade team in that very hallway. I remember spending time getting his new room ready, as the art teacher and I helped paint his new bulletin boards. I'm pretty sure he didn't care what the bulletin boards looked like, but was happy for the company in his new room. I'm also pretty sure I didn't do very much painting - but neither did he! I remember Andy making sure he could have music playing while our art teacher painted. And the music never stopped from his room. Over the next few years if I ever stopped in his room it was because of the music he was playing for his students. Probably the thing I most admire about Andy was the fact that he exposed our kids to the kind of music we had listened to growing up - 90's rap was his specialty. His #amrap facebook statuses became the thing of legend, everything from Skee Lo to Eminem. But he appreciated all genres not just rap; today a friend who was on the team with Andy and I that year, brought up the time he was playing En Vogue, which was one of my personal favorites. He loved Jim Morrison. Tupac vs. Biggie was a hot topic for debate. He was all over the place musically, which to me was one the best things about him. He received a Britney Spears dvd for Christmas last year from another teacher in our building. I'm sure he watched it. Probably more for her dancing than singing, but hey......
On those mornings, when I had a question for him, or just wanted to applaud the music he was blasting, he always welcomed me warmly and easily. There are many classrooms in our building that make me feel that way, but Andy's was one of the best. He wasn't one to change or stop what he was doing because I dropped in, which was great, and makes me smile just thinking of how he would wave me into the room from his desk, and make me part of it.
As difficult as Wednesday morning was, it was my 8th grade class who shared the best stories about Andy. My favorite was when he was refusing to talk to their class so he posted their assignment on the end of a broom and just walked around the room holding up the broom. His current seventh graders shared how hilarious he had found it when a student in their class, after being asked to use the word 'gruesome' in a vocab game, wrote the sentence: I grusome inches. You know Andy found it funny because he posted a picture of it to facebook. That type of humor is what made me want to write this blog in the first place. The things our students say are too funny not to share. In an effort to keep Andy with me through our shared sense of humor I am going to try to get back to posting.
Andy passed on Tuesday night, the same night I was leading our students in their winter concert. We have decided to donate all of our proceeds from the concert towards a fund set aside for Andy's children. I truly hope there is a piece I can find that will do some justice in honoring him for our spring concert. Our students have posted artwork, letters, memorials outside his classroom. I'm not looking forward to the fact that at some point they will have to come down and our district is already telling us that. I know our students and staff need closure and need to move on, but I hope it is handled in the best way for our students.
Everyone that knew you was lucky to have shared in laughter with you. You could make each day brighter with your candor, humor, wit. I'll miss your music, and emails that made me laugh so hard, I should have kept more of them. Thanks for being you, and giving so much of yourself to everyone around you, your students, athletes, children, family, and our school family. I'll never be able to walk the halls without thinking of you, and someday it won't make me well up, it will just make me smile. To know that school was the place we spent our time together, got to know one another, enjoy the music of our youth together. To know you're really still there, and always will be there as long as I can keep you there. And I certainly intend to.
You'll be missed homie, all my love.
I expect to see you again like that Tupac hologram (you know you loved that)
-Miss
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