A Time to Talk

You’re meeting a host of people you’ve never set eyes on before, navigating rules, guidelines, and traditions, absorbing the culture, and, as the saying goes, drinking from a fire hose.

 

Throw in the added dynamic of following an icon, and the ante is stratospherically high.

 

Back in 2015, Wendi Moss stepped into the role teaching 8^th grade English at Collegiate which John Coates had filled with distinction for 31 years.

 

John, who had succeeded the legendary Hugh Addy upon his retirement in 1984, was demanding yet compassionate, well-read and erudite, and possessed of a broad smile and unforgettable laugh. Very much “old school,” he set a high bar for his students, especially as thinkers and writers, while exhibiting his own brand of excellence every single day.  He was a mentor, loyal friend, and trusted colleague.

 

John was also uncommonly tough. In fact, he wrote the book on toughness, grit, resilience, and determination. Diagnosed many years ago with Charcot-Marie-Tooth Disease, a debilitating condition which affects the peripheral nervous system, he continued to teach, announce Collegiate athletic events, and participate in the life of the school from his motorized wheelchair until he could do so no more.

 

In the early hours of April 22, his body weakened but his spirit still strong, he passed quietly away.

 

“Even though I was hired to replace John in the classroom,” Wendi said, “let’s be clear: there was no replacing John Coates.”

 

Then, she shared the story of a moment that made her realize the enormity of the challenge ahead.

 

“One lazy summer afternoon,” she recounted, “I was in a park watching my children play when I met another mom, and we made small talk. During the conversation, it came up that I’d just accepted a position at Collegiate teaching 8^th grade English. The mom immediately responded, ‘Oh, I hope it’s not Mr. Coates’s position. He taught me so much about writing.’ My excitement for this new job was equally matched with nerves. There was no way I would impact students in the same way John Coates did.”

 

Wendi would not actually meet John until the next fall when he dropped by school.

 

“During our first conversation in the hallway (of Flippen Hall), I told him how many positive things I had heard about him,” Wendi recalled. “He asked about my family, my favorite books, and my opinion on current events, and that was in just one meeting.”

 

Any apprehension she still had dissipated. They stayed in touch. John was all about connections, you see.

 

“He was nothing but gracious and kind to me,” Wendi continued.  “He said he really missed teaching and was doing a lot of reading and keeping himself busy.  I asked him to consider coming back to teach one of my classes so I could witness his magic in action. I said a couple of times, ‘You’re always welcome.’ The third time, he said, ‘Are you serious?’  I said, ‘Yes, I’m very serious.’”

 

In the fall of 2017, John expounded upon Henry David Thoreau and transcendentalism.

 

“He didn’t just teach about Thoreau,” Wendi said. “I also learned about Thoreau that day. John said the correct pronunciation was THOR-eau, not thor-EAU. He told us about the occupation of Thoreau’s father. I was astonished by how much he knew.

 

“Then at lunch, he said that he had never actually taught Thoreau. He said, ‘Quite frankly, I did a lot of research last night. The truth is, I learned a lot about him too.’ Then he let out one of his wonderfully contagious laughs. It made me realize that even though John is an icon, but he was still learning so he could come in to teach a class he didn’t have to teach. I was so grateful. From John, I learned about rigor and having high expectations for kids.”

 

I mentioned that John’s return was in a way tantamount to having the author of your textbook instructing your students.

 

“When we talked about his coming back to teach, he said, ‘I don’t want to put you in a position where your students will like me more than you,’” Wendi recalled with a laugh. “I found that endearing although it could probably be read a couple of ways.”

 

That’s just John being candid, I offered. John could definitely be candid.

 

“I’m thinking, OK, let’s check this out. Let’s see what you’ve got,” she said. “It was like a little smack talk. That was fun for me.”

 

Wendi and John stayed in touch. Once when she took dinner to his family, he insisted that she bring her three children and that they join him and his dog on a stroll around his Bon Air neighborhood. He included her on his poetry email list. In fact, one of the last he sent was entitled “A Time to Talk” by Robert Frost which presents the image of a farmer stopping his work to spend quality time with a friend riding by on his horse.

 

“That (poem) beautifully articulates what I remember about John,” Wendi said. “He always had time to invest in others. I often think of how much is required of a teacher on any level to teach students in a patient, warm way. A gentleman in a wheelchair who’s older and relies on so many people shows a great deal of humility and faith in those people. That’s what makes teachers stronger. That’s what makes teams stronger.”

~Weldon Bradshaw