Reports of school staff dying from COVID are now scarce鈥攁 tremendous relief. But a bittersweet relief, as people still die and the pandemic persists.
Since the spring of 2020, 91直播 documented 1,308 active and retired educators who succumbed to the virus. Among the total, 451 were active teachers. School staff members, including secretaries, food service workers, bus drivers, and others comprised the second biggest group of deaths at 332.
Today鈥擠ec. 19, 2022鈥攚ill be the final update to our memorial gallery.
It will stand as an imperfect historical record鈥攐ur collection is not comprehensive. And it will stand as an imperfect measure of the enormity of loss.
The loss of dedicated educators like Sandra Santos-Vizca铆no.
The 3rd grade dual-language teacher at P.S. 9 in the Brooklyn borough of New York City was among the earliest wave of educators to die in the pandemic, on March 31, 2020. A street in the Sunset Park neighborhood in Brooklyn now bears her name. Student artwork adorns P.S. 9鈥檚 playground benches in her honor.
But those visible markers of her life fall short of what she actually gave鈥攁nd what she still means to her school community.
鈥淪he was such a nurturer. She built relationships with her students and her families that was inspiring to all of us,鈥� said Selisa Pe帽a, a P.S. 9 teacher.
鈥淥nce you were a student in her class, you were her student forever,鈥� said Jocelyn Burgos, another P.S. 9 teacher who considered Vizca铆no a mentor and her 鈥渨ork mom.鈥�
鈥淚 used to drive home with her after school, and she had all these families鈥� numbers in her phone,鈥� Burgos said. 鈥淭hese were family members of her former students. And she would make regular calls to those parents to ask about their kids.鈥�
When Burgos first joined the P.S. 9 faculty to teach 5th grade, Vizca铆no sought her out straightaway. She wanted to see which of her former students was on the roster. She wanted Burgos to know something about each of them.
鈥淭his one has a strong sense of justice,鈥� Burgos said Vizca铆no told her about one student. 鈥淭his one thinks they aren鈥檛 good at math, but they are,鈥� she told Burgos of another as she moved down the list to share an insight about each child.
That depth of caregiving extended to her fellow teachers, Marlene Henr铆quez, another teacher at P.S. 9, said. Regularly, Vizca铆no would summon Henr铆quez to her classroom to eat empanadas she made in an air fryer. She insisted, every year, that Henr铆quez take part in D铆a de la Madre鈥擬other鈥檚 Day in the Dominican Republic鈥攅ven though Henr铆quez had no children of her own.
鈥淪he told me, 鈥榊ou鈥檙e a mother to all these children who are your students,鈥欌�� Henr铆quez said.
Vizca铆no鈥檚 presence is still strong at P.S. 9.
When teachers and students returned to the school building after a long stretch of virtual learning, Burgos moved into her classroom.
鈥淚t felt like I inherited something so special,鈥� she said. 鈥淚 would find her notes, her resources. It was amazing to be in her space.鈥�
This year, Pe帽a is teaching in that classroom.
Commemorating lives cut short
Collecting the names, ages, titles, schools/districts, and dates of death for this memorial gallery has been a labor of honor and respect. I read each person鈥檚 obituary or news article about their deaths. They were educators and school personnel of all ages, races, genders. They were from all regions of the United States.
My partner in this endeavor, Visuals Editor Jaclyn Borowski, would search for photos for each person. She found one for most of them.
Many were so young, something Jackie especially noticed. Official obituary photos showed them in graduation caps and gowns, with visibly pregnant bellies, and on their wedding days.
鈥淭he other thing that struck me were how many of their photos were selfies,鈥� she said. 鈥淚t made me wonder about the moment they took that photo, the moment they were in in their lives, how quickly and unexpectedly their lives changed.鈥�
I鈥檇 like to express my deep gratitude to the sources I relied heavily on to capture the names of those who died: my EdWeek librarian colleagues Holly Peele and Maya Riser-Kositsky, the obituary writers at local news outlets across the United States, and , a Twitter account relentlessly dedicated to paying tribute to America鈥檚 K-12 personnel who died in the pandemic.
