What is a legacy? (June 29, 2022)

Last July, our friend Katherine came over to visit Scott and we watched Hamilton together on Disney+. Scott and I saw Hamilton on Broadway in 2016 and we both loved it. Toward the end of the musical, as Hamilton was musing on his impending death and legacy and Eliza sang about her life after the death of her husband, Scott started to cry. I held his hand and squeezed it as Eliza sang, “Oh, I can’t wait to see you again...It's only a matter of time.”

Later Scott told me that he cried because he was thinking about his legacy, and how he only taught for 3 years and made some games and wanted to do so much more. And how Eliza was left to live alone for the next 50 years, and it wasn’t fair and she didn’t deserve that.

If he had more time, Scott would have had a long and rich teaching career. He had a strong drive to learn as much as he could about teaching and was always working on improving his classes. He wanted to build a strong computer science pipeline at St. Paul’s that welcomed both boys and girls and prepared them for college and the real world. Scott previously taught at an all-girls school and was at an all-boys school, but he preferred teaching co-ed classes and he always championed the success of girls. My heart breaks when I think of all the students whose lives he could have touched, who will never meet or know him.

But I also think about the difference he made for the kids that he did reach. I saw the time and care he poured every day into his students. He resumed teaching via Zoom the day after he came home from the hospital from leg surgery, which I never thought would be possible. He taught for as long as he was physically able to, until radiation treatments left him too fatigued and nauseous to get out of bed. Even after that, it was vitally important for him to make it to graduation so he could be there for his seniors. Scott and I received so many notes and messages from his students, fellow teachers, and school administrators telling us of the enormous impact he made.

In his final moments in the musical, Hamilton tells us, “What is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see.” And that is true for all of us. We rarely get a full picture of the impact that we make in each other’s lives. I’m grateful that Scott had a chance to start a second career in teaching, even if it wasn’t enough time to do all that he wanted. He had the time and opportunity to learn that his impact had been far greater than he ever realized. I often think of the teachers who made the greatest impact on me in high school, and I know I never made enough of an effort to let them know how much they shaped the person I am today.

While Scott was in the hospital, two of his students came to see him for the last time. Both are international students, and I think Scott gravitated toward them because he wanted to support them, but also because he genuinely liked them as people. Scott's department head, who was incredibly supportive throughout Scott's teaching career and cancer journey, came with the students, and it was so moving to see Scott's strong connection with all three of them. From observing Scott's work and reviewing the feedback that he gave to students, I knew he cared deeply for them. But seeing firsthand how he engaged with his students made me realize what an amazing gift Scott had for teaching. Even in that final meeting, Scott was reassuring his students and giving them life lessons. They were graduating seniors and about to start college, and he encouraged them to be open to people and their flaws (or "bugs" as we would say in software speak) and to love them, even if it means being vulnerable and getting hurt sometimes.

Of course for me, Scott’s great legacy is that he was my beloved husband and friend. He brought incredible joy and love into my life. From observing him, I learned to become a little more compassionate and generous and a little less serious. (I also learned from observing him that mashing silly putty into your brother's hair does not end well, although it makes for a good story.) I'm a better and more honest writer because of him. I learned the importance of telling people what they mean to me, and how wonderful and precious a heartfelt handwritten note can be. I can live the rest of my life knowing that he loved me completely, as I love him. It's just one part of Scott's legacy, but it means everything to me.