R.I.P. Miriam Perez

While I loathe all the teaching metaphors that relate to war (the trenches, the battleground, educational ground zero, the troops, etc.), there is something about teaching together that makes people close. The emotional job of teaching is exhausting. We literally raise these students while trying to get them to learn to read, write, and become life long learners; we encourage them to say please/thank you, not to scream "F*ck you" whenever they feel like it, and to have positive and respectful relationships with one another. Anyone who is a parent knows how difficult these goals are with your own children. Now multiply that by 150, subtract the fact that you do have some parental power & unconditional love with your own children, and that equals teaching.

With this in mind, teaching brings people together. I have cried, laughed, listened, talked, whined, worried, and gotten pissed (as in mad and drunk!)with my coworkers. We laugh when our principal says we're family, but we are. I have worked there for NINE years. My coworkers have guided me through engagement, marriage, miscarriage, masters work, doctorate work, the pregnancies and births of my two children, the death of a very close friend, marital conflicts, family issues, and many an existential crisis. I love them dearly--they truly are my family on so many levels.


(my coworkers: (L to R) Causha Vann-Innis, Miriam Perez, Mr. Cuthbert our principal, Akua Henderson-Brown--all these ladies are kick ass English teachers at Cobble Hill)

Which is why I couldn't catch my breath when Thai (whom I have worked with since she was a wee student teacher at our school) called me yesterday afternoon to tell me of the passing of Miriam Perez. Literally. My heart was racing--it was as if my brain could not process the information. I stood in front of Nico's daycare stunned.

Miriam and I have worked together for a long time; I can't remember my life at school without her. She had a dazzling smile, a love for poetry and poetry slams, documentary films (and made awesome Brooklyn tshirts!) and a hearty laugh that could warm a room. Over the years we had gotten closer and my gregarious self began to understand Miriam's more reserved personality. We began to laugh together, share stories of kids and our students, and be friends. I'll miss her presence in 212, our Humanities Teacher's Lounge. I can picture her there so clearly: at the end of the table, eating her healthy lunch and wearing her copper hoop earrings, maybe with her ipod on, trying to catch a moment of peace before teaching again.

I'll never forget the first time I saw Miriam outside of school--eight years ago?--at Prospect Park with a beautiful little girl at her side. Being me, I ran up to them and introduced myself and met her daughter, Afiya. She must have been 8 or 9 years old. She was lanky, had big, curious eyes, and a shy smile. Afiya has come to school many days with Miriam, and we have all be lucky to watch her grow into an amazing, grounded, confident, and intelligent similar-but-of-course-unique version of Miriam. I know Miriam's greatest love and focus in life was Afiya. I can't stop thinking of her and aching for her.

One of the things that has been touching about Miriam's passing is the response from her old students on Facebook. Teaching is such a thankless job; you never really know how the students feel about you until maybe--years later--you get a random email or friend request from a student who tells you how much you changed their lives. Those moments are rare and beautiful. Reading the students' comments about Miriam this morning demonstrated the love they had for her and the importance of her role as their teacher. Some have changed their profile pictures to her face. They are spreading the word and they, too, are shocked, sad, and aching.

Miriam--we all loved you at Cobble Hill, students and teachers alike. Thank you for staying at the school, year after year, amid many upheavals of teachers and administration; thank you for being so constant and consistent in your demeanor amid the craziness of our building; and thank you for being our friend and part of our family. We will all miss you deeply.

(my lovely coworkers at another coworker's wedding: (L to R) my Assistant Principal; Causha Vann-Innis, the bride; Miriam Perez; Katika Moore (we're still waiting for you to come back, Tika!); Thai Sanders; Akua Henderson-Brown. I was 2 weeks post-partum from Alexandra and not sadly there, but I got many texts from all of them during it!)