Thank You, Mr. Jourcin

Mr. Paul Jourcin (1948 - 2020)

Like most teachers, one of the major reasons I do what I do is that I was very fortunate to have been taught by some truly amazing educators.  In fact, I was very lucky - I can count on one hand the number of teachers who were not good at their jobs; either they had been doing it for far too long or they were just in the wrong profession.  Most of my teachers were wonderful people who truly cared about me and my learning. I mention this only to give the context of this statement: of all the teachers I had in school, there were three that made such an impact on my, that even at such a young age, I could not envision myself being anything other than a teacher.  Mr. Paul Jourcin was one of those three.

For some reason, the junior high school (7th and 8th grade) that I attended offered French as an elective, and I decided I wanted to learn it.  I didn't, not then.  None of us really learned French, beyond simple greetings and counting to ten.  It wasn't that kind of program. Yet, I enjoyed the little French I did learn, and when it was time to go to high school, I knew that I would choose it as my elected language.  I even took a placement test in French at the private school I would soon be attending, mostly on a lark, and somehow I did well enough to be accepted into French II as a freshman.  Not an outstanding achievement, I realize, but it was something.

On day one of French II, I met a man who would plant the seeds that would eventually flower into a lengthy career as a high school teacher.  Mr. Jourcin was a little man - even as a freshman, I was bigger than he was - but he had the largest spirit I had yet encountered.  He would storm into the classroom, speaking French as if we understood him; asking us questions as if we knew French.  And yet, somehow, we DID know what he was saying - Mr. Jourcin "spoke" French with his whole being, a skill that he would impart to us, his eager students.  It was in this class that I fully realized my love of languages, and while it never surpassed my love of science, I have always had a great appreciation for them (I even learned a bit of Japanese while in college).

By the time we were seniors, those of us that stayed with French beyond the three required years had come to love this quirky little man.  We followed him to Canada, and some of us to France (I couldn't afford to go).  We enrolled in AP French because we knew that we would be the best prepared students in the country with PJ (pronounced "Pee zhee") in our corner.  We joined "Le Circle Francais". We found any excuse to hang out in his classroom, WAY down in Flavian Hall.  Mr. Jourcin was one of the reasons we loved to come to school every day, because we knew - we were certain - that Mr. Jourcin loved us for who we were, and would do anything he could to make sure we knew it.

As I left high school for college, and graduate school, PJ was never very far out of mind.  For a few years, I would often drop in when I was in my hometown to see him.  He always had a smile and a hug for me. We would laugh about things that had happened in class all those years ago. He would ask me if I was happy.  And he usually had some nugget of advice to give, if I asked for it (I always did).  As so often happens, I fell out of touch.  Yet I would always think of him, every now and then, and hope he was doing well.  I always meant to stop in to see him, or to drop him a line - I always knew how to get in touch with him, even after he retired.

It's the same old story - you never know what tomorrow will bring.  Don't put off telling people how much they mean to you, because you may not get the chance.  Sadly, I forgot this lesson, and now, PJ is gone.  I am sad; of course I am! Paul Jourcin meant a great deal to me, and he set me on a professional path that has led me through a very fulfilling and challenging career.  I owe him more than sadness though.  I owe him the dedication to MY students that he gave to me. I owe him the effort to let my students know that they are loved, the way he showed us that WE were.  And I intend to pay up.