"In Memory of Teacher Patrick McGrath" by Dr. Michael Flanagan

*Patrick McGrath teaching - 2012 yearbook.*

The week of January 3rd, 2022 was the worst week of teaching I have ever known. In my NYC school we dealt with an ice storm, a snow storm, hundreds of cases of COVID, massive absences of students and staff AND the loss of a beloved young colleague, Patrick McGrath.

Before I go on, I offer my deepest condolences to his wife Jackie–a former teacher at my school–his family, and his closest friends–several of whom are also teachers at my school. More like brothers than just friends.

His passing was sudden, and it was tragic. We were called to a classroom and told the news by our principal at 8:15 on Wednesday morning January 5th. It was like being physically hit by a truck. After being hit by that truck–carrying the weight of 15 years of camaraderie–we went up to our classrooms to teach for the day.

It was the longest day of my career.

*Upon completion of grading Regents Exams*

Pat was a brilliant teacher. For years he was given the entire 9th grade global studies classes, and expected to break in 160 freshmen to the high school experience, while teaching them ancient history.

And he did it. Every year.

After leaving the school to travel and teach elsewhere, Pat returned to my school, and was now teaching 6th graders. Breaking in those students to the middle school experience. Again, he rose to the challenge unflinchingly.

He was a man of integrity, caring, and the epitome of what a “stand up guy” is supposed to be.

Besides being a consummate professional, and a generous colleague, he was a friend to many at the school.

Crisis counselors were called into the building, and little by little his students, and the parents of the community were notified of his passing. The man was universally liked and respected by all who knew him. I say that without the slightest hyperbole.

The children processed the news as children will do. By making cards, writing on the board, and professing their love and thanks to their teacher. Perhaps the most important compliments—ones that Pat would have been the most proud of—were “you were so funny”.

Pat had an amazing wit, tempered by insight, intelligence and humility. His jokes were the type that would fly over the head of the uninitiated, as they were offered up with a deadpan delivery, couched in an intellectualism that left many unprepared to handle the humor.

When he first started teaching the 6th graders, he worried that his sense of humor would not translate to them. Based on their comments, his humor was their fondest memories. For several years there, Pat and I were in contention for “Funniest Teacher” in the school yearbook each year. It was an honor to be in that competition with him.

I asked a good friend of his for a recollection of Pat’s favorite jokes. While there were so many to choose from, the first one goes as follows:

“We were out to dinner one night and the waitress asked Pat how he wanted his burger? His answer was - ‘delicious please’”

I laughed at both the joke, and what I imagined the waitresses’ reaction must have been. Then I cried.

This past week was hell. Politicians and the media are continuously questioning and criticizing teachers. Often claiming we are selfish, lazy or scared to do our jobs in this pandemic. I told my colleagues that if anyone ever makes those kinds of statements to them again, mention what it was like to teach in our school this week.

I have never been prouder of my fellow educators–and our administrators–than I was this week. It was indeed, the worst week of teaching I have ever known. But, we as educators, will be back Monday, because our students need us.

Rest in peace Pat. I again offer my most sincere condolences to his wife Jackie and his family. We will not see his like again.