Presente Paul Harrington

11th Grade was the year we did clinical rotations at the county hospital as part of our medical magnet program. We went to the hospital twice a week for half of the school day. So our English and History classes were double blocked on two other days of the week, and Fridays, we followed a normal schedule. 

That year was Mr. Harrington's first year. He told us that on our first day. He also told us that he was a recovering drug addict. That last bit of information was something I will never forget. You see, my dad was an alcoholic, but talking about dad being an alcoholic wasn't something we did. People were not supposed to know about Dad's habits. People were not supposed to know the type of man he became when he got drunk. We were supposed to look put together and happy and turn in all of our assignments on time and get good grades. So to have this man tell us that upon first meeting us was a bit of a shock to me. He earned a ton of respect from me. Yeah, I acted like an asshat sometimes, but still, I knew he was the real deal. He was able to beat his addiction, something I saw my dad say he would do and try to do but fail every single time. 

Mr. Harrington, no matter how bad we were, never yelled at us. Instead, he met our teenage stupidity with wit. 

I always tell the story about that one time my classmate, Adrian, asked, "Mr. Harrington, did Jesus give you those boots?" 

And Mr. Harrington, without missing a beat said, "Why, yes, Adrian, yes He did." 

Scrolling through my Facebook feed today, I found out Mr. Harrington passed away. Two friends had shared a post from someone else who had gone to school with us and ended up working with Mr. Harrington since he went on to become a Vice Principal and ultimately, a Principal. He ended his post with a phrase that I had forgotten about but brought back all the feels, "Please open your historical hearts and your historical souls to page..."

Thank you for instilling in me the values of being an informed citizen not only of the current political landscape, but of the past, that voting matters, and that overcoming our past is possible. May your rest is peace, Mr. Harrington.