Our School Will Never Be The Same

We got a call from our elementary school earlier today that our beloved principal, Mr. H. had passed away over the weekend. We're all reeling. The girls are taking it hard - Kiyomi especially, since she's still attending the school and had just asked me yesterday when I thought he'd be coming back. When I told her the news, she started to cry, and said that school will never be the same without him. I have to agree.

It wasn't supposed to turn out this way. He went in for surgery, and from what I've heard there were complications. But we had word as recently as last week that he was doing better and was even expected back at school soon - I'm sure he wanted to be there to greet parents at back-to-school night on Tuesday.

That's the type of principal he was - hands on, and completely accessible to kids and parents alike. He knew every kid by name, and they knew him as the kind and gentle person he was. He was strict, but never harsh. He made the kids laugh. They made him laugh. I had so much admiration and respect for him as an educator and as a person. Over the years he became more of a friend to Rigel and I than just our children's principal, and I always felt extremely fortunate to have someone like him at the helm of their school.

He was one of the people that ignited my passion for the public school system, and we often had talks about how to bring more families from the neighborhood into our campus. I've struggled recently with the administration at Kira's middle school, I was looking forward to talking to him about what I experienced and my weariness with the system. I'm sad I'll never have the chance to have that talk with him.

I liked him from the moment I met him, which was six years ago when Kira was entering 2nd grade and Kiyomi was entering kindergarten. He had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor which I immediately related to. I remember one of our first conversations was about how I was stressing over some lost test results from Kira's previous school and he calmly told me, "I don't think her missing 1st grade math scores will hurt her chances of getting into Harvard." I told him I hoped he was right, but that I'd hold him responsible if she ended up cleaning the fryer at Del Taco.

Four years ago, when Kira was in the third grade, she had a problem with a 'friend' who was bullying her. It was making her miserable, and without telling her I went to Mr. H. to ask his opinion on what to do. We talked for around forty-five minutes, and I told him I wanted to find a way to solve the problem without Kira feeling like she was a 'snitch' and risk some sort of retaliation from the girl. Mr. H assured me he would handle it, and I knew he would. That same day she came home from school, happier than I'd seen her in a long time, and told me about a visit Mr. H had made to their classroom. She told me how amazing it was that he happened to bring up the topic of bullying, the very thing that had been on her mind all morning! She told me he talked about how you should treat other people, and about considering other people's feelings, and what it means to be a friend. Kira knew the talk had an impact on her 'friend,' and she felt so much better after that day. And so did I.

Our school was a wonderful place because of Mr. H. He took the school from just another struggling campus in the district to one that was recognized for its academic achievement. He was loved and respected by the kids, the parents and the teachers. He touched my children's lives and I truly feel they are better people because of his dedication. He leaves behind a wife and two young children, who my heart breaks for.

Goodbye Mr. H. You will be deeply missed. Our school will never be the same without you.

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