Back to School

Ryan was a teacher, both by profession, and in life.  By this, I mean that teaching was what he was meant to do; he was made for it.  He was one of those rare people who not only knew exactly what his calling was, but also actually managed to find a job doing it.  He was fantastic at his job, and he loved it.  This time of year, it's hard to get away from all of the back to school advertisements and chatter, and I'm finding that they are serious triggers for me.  The thought of a new school year beginning without Ryan being a part of it truly saddens me- it feels like the world is out of order.

Ryan came by teaching as a career in a roundabout way, but he came alive once he discovered it.  I think he initially hoped to teach at a university, but after just a few months teaching at Montgomery County Community College (Montco, for short), he decided that he would be happy working there until he retired.  The college loved him just as much; I think that if you spoke to any of his colleagues, they would tell you that Ryan was among their finest faculty members, and if you spoke to almost any of his students, they would name him as one of their favorite teachers.  His loss was felt intensely at the college.  It must be strange for them to be starting up the new semester without him walking into the office.

Ryan, doing what he did best and loved most.

The beginning of a new semester was always an invigorating time for Ryan.  I see so many teachers complaining around this time of year that their vacation is over, and that they have to go back to the grind.  Not Ryan- he was always excited to be starting up again.  On the first day of classes, Ryan would usually be up before me, in a great mood, energized and ready to go.  He always looked so handsome and professional, but the running joke was that he could have blended in with the students because of his age and the youth in his face.  After the first day of classes, he'd invariably come home to me and tell me over dinner how he had a great group of students and he was optimistic about the semester.  He particularly loved working with students who went out of their way to learn- people who were passionate about education, like he was.  Working at the Pottstown campus of Montco meant Ryan had a lot of non-traditional students- single mothers, war veterans, retirees, and the like.  He loved making a difference in their lives in particular.  He got enjoyment out of the bad students as well- catching cheaters became one of his favorite things.  I loved the glint he'd get in his eye when he'd caught a plagiarist that day.  I think he got a lot of satisfaction out of the detective work that went into it.

Strangely, as good as he was at his job and as beloved as he was, Ryan was always terrified of doing something wrong and getting fired.  I think this was a natural reaction to having everything he wanted, and being able to think what it would be like if he didn't have it anymore.  If something had gone wrong at work
that day, he'd go on about it to me for what seemed like hours, listen to my advice (which was usually "you're worrying too much), and then proceed to call his mother and go through the whole process with her too.  When I told him that he needed to relax, he'd admit that I was right, but explain to me how important his job was to him.  He'd say it was the most important thing in his life, then quickly rephrase to say that I was the most important thing in his life, and then the job.  He'd told me many, many times that he'd read that the emotional stress of losing a job was a close second to the emotional stress of losing a spouse.  Ironic.

There was a lot that made Ryan good at his job, but I think the fact that he loved what he did was the biggest factor.  I've never met someone who loved their job so much, and I was envious.  I've never been able to find that perfect thing to do with my life, the thing that would bring me the kind of fulfillment that Ryan had.  I think I told him often that I was jealous of his career.  I'm not sure if I told him often enough though how proud I was of him.

It sort of makes my skin crawl to think of the new year starting and all of Ryan's coworkers going back to teach, the students coming into class, and Ryan not being there.  Someone else is in his cubical, someone else is teaching his old classes.  Ryan was meant to do what he did, and now he's not doing it anymore, and that seems so wrong.  I know so few people that know their purpose in life.  Ryan had found his, and he got to do it for such a short period of time.  I'm sad when I think of all of the students coming through the college who won't get the opportunity to take his class.  This was a man who was contributing to society, changing lives, making a difference in the world.  He had so much impact, and I refuse to believe that it was his time to go, because he had so much more to give.  He wasn't just teaching his students, he was teaching me too, every day.  I miss learning from him, and I can't stand the thought that our daughter won't get to learn from him- he would have loved teaching her too.  It's simply wrong that he won't get the chance.