The Art of Arthur Reisman by Mark Kadzielawa

 

The news of Mr. Reisman’s passing came out of nowhere. One moment, everything was ordinary—and the next, I found myself completely still, caught off guard by the weight of it. One of my favorite teachers was gone.

Almost without thinking, my mind drifted back to 1987.

I could see it clearly—the classroom, the desks, the familiar rhythm of senior year at East Leyden High School. Drawn by that feeling, I went to my old photo album, certain there were pictures from his class tucked somewhere inside. I flipped through the pages, and there they were—snapshots of a time I hadn’t visited in years.

At first, I thought I would simply share them as a tribute. But as I lingered over each photo, something shifted. Faces, moments, laughter—memories I didn’t even realize I still carried began to surface, one after another.

It was more than nostalgia. It was a reminder of how much that time, that class, and that teacher had meant.

And so I decided to do more than post a few pictures. I decided to capture those memories in words—to remember Mr. Reisman, East Leyden High School, and the classmates who shared that truly special English class during our senior year.

Prior to my senior year at East Leyden High School, I had never met or had any dealings with Mr. Reisman. Yet there he was, listed on my schedule as my English teacher for the 1987–1988 school year. My previous English teachers—Mrs. Cruz, Mrs. Pero, Mr. Cece, and Mrs. Henning—were all incredible in their own ways, each so different from the others.

What struck me instantly about Mr. Reisman’s class was how relaxed it felt. There was room to breathe, and you could really adjust your pace to what suited you. I knew right away I was in for a great year, especially since I was surrounded by such incredible people.

I was always very active and a bit intense, so of course Mr. Reisman wanted me seated close to him. As it turned out, we ended up having some great exchanges when it came to literature. There I was, sitting between Franca and Vikki—two stunningly beautiful young ladies who were also a lot of fun and very easy going. Whenever I turned around, I was greeted by Jennie’s beautiful smile.

Carl, Chuck, Ramon, Mike, and Vito were always there, keeping me company and ready for whatever innocent mischief came our way. Deanna was always fun, and Jo Ellyn kept us updated on who “played the Whale” and what Great White was up to. And of course, there were the Miller twins, Jennifer and Nicole.  All in all, a great line up of characters!

There were others in the class, but this was my immediate circle, and it was simply incredible. In fact, I was a bit of the new guy to many of these classmates, yet we connected.  The interactions we shared were priceless, all unfolding under the watchful eye of Mr. Reisman. He truly knew how to create a great atmosphere, making learning feel natural—and therefore meaningful.

Mr. Reisman was open to a lot of ideas, especially when we were trying to come up with classroom rules. All kinds of possibilities were considered, and one of the rules we managed to establish was that every student was allowed one “cut” per year.

Naturally, I wasn’t someone who usually skipped class, but since the option was there, Carl and I decided to take advantage of it. We spent an hour at Dunkin’ Donuts instead of going to class—a freebie is a freebie. It helped that it was first period, which made the decision even easier.

Still, there was something special about starting the day with Mr. Reisman. He had a way of setting the tone for everything that followed, and that tone was always creative and positive. Looking back at photos from that classroom, you can still see it reflected in our faces.

We loved that class, and we loved Mr. Reisman. No one ever said it out loud, but you could feel it.

One of the things I most enjoyed in class was studying English literature—Shakespeare, Chaucer, and even battling Grendel and his mother as we broke Beowulf down into its smallest parts to make sense of it. I was having a lot of fun with it, and looking back now, it’s incredible how Mr. Reisman was able to draw that sensitivity for literature out of me.

When he met with me one-on-one—as he often did with all his students—he told me how much he appreciated my input. “Not only are you understanding it,” he said, “you’re enjoying it. You grasp their sense of humor and notice things most people miss or don’t care about.”

I’ve come to realize that I learned one of my most valuable teaching skills from Mr. Reisman: the ability to recognize and draw out a student’s natural talents. Throughout my years as an educator, I’ve tried to apply that same approach. In many ways, this was his greatest strength—focusing on each student, identifying their strengths, and helping them build on them.

Mr. Reisman had a knack for exposing us to all sorts of wild things inspired by literature, and one of those gems was Monty Python. Now, I’ve always been more of a Benny Hill and Dave Allen kind of person, but the dry, absurd British humor of Monty Python hit me in just the right way. Watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail in class was… let’s just say, eventful. There were knights, coconuts, and more silliness than you could shake a fish at—and the laughter was nonstop. Of course, all that chaos led to some surprisingly deep discussions too.

Since it was our senior year, Mr. Reisman organized a class field trip. We were set to go to a downtown theatre in the evening to see Shear Madness, an interactive murder mystery where the audience determines the outcome.

Before the trip, a heated debate erupted in the classroom about where to eat. Half the class wanted McDonald’s, and the other half preferred Burger King. I chose not to participate in the debate, which surprised Mr. Reisman. He stopped everyone and asked for my thoughts, as if I were some kind of tie-breaker.

I simply replied, “How about Russel’s?”—a place I had recently discovered. To my surprise, everyone agreed, the debate was over, and I got a silent thumbs-up from Mr. Reisman. I felt like a revolutionary of sorts.

That moment perfectly captured how great our class was. Opinions could sway freely without pressure, and everyone could be themselves. Nothing was forced, and that was simply amazing.

As the months went by, Mr. Reisman asked everyone to prepare a short speech about the future. Many great speeches followed, but it was Carl who stole the show and coined a catchphrase. Carl dreamed of starting a band and becoming a professional musician. At one point in his speech, he said, “You have to practice all the time to be good because when you suck, you suck.” The line instantly struck a chord with the audience, turning Carl into a celebrity.

The year flew by, and every day was filled with laughter, learning, and a sense of accomplishment. We loved starting our mornings with Mr. Reisman, and yet, even with the excitement of graduation on the horizon, his presence made each day feel meaningful. Having Mr. Reisman as our teacher was truly a gift—a once-in-a-lifetime blessing. He was more than an extraordinary educator; he was a mentor, a guide, and a friend who knew just when to inspire, support, or simply listen. I know I speak for many when I say that his impact went far beyond the classroom. I am deeply, sincerely grateful that he came into my life, touched it, and made it better in ways I will never forget.

When I look at the yearbook from 1988, I feel that wonderful time all over again. Vikki wrote, “You made me laugh a lot in English.” Jennie wrote, “I’m glad we met.” Mike wished me good luck with soccer, Franca wanted to listen to the band I was starting at the time, and Chuck wrote, “This year has been totally gnarly.” Reading these notes, you can feel the good vibes, the happiness.

As happy as we were graduating, nobody wanted to leave Mr. Reisman behind. I felt we had grown into a very special unit. Looking back now, I know there were many such units out there, but ours was unique. Seeing what former students are posting about Mr. Reisman, everything they say reflects exactly what I would say and think. It’s a big thank-you for being there.

The story should have ended there, but there was one more chapter. Four years after graduating, I returned to East Leyden as a support staff employee, with the title of Bilingual Tutor. It was wonderful to be back in a place I knew and loved, and most of my former teachers were still there—including Mr. Reisman. He was overjoyed to see me and extremely supportive.

We crossed paths often, and during one social gathering, Mr. Reisman suggested that perhaps we could be on a first-name basis from now on. My response was an unequivocal no. I had a tremendous respect for him—and for all my former teachers—and that was a line I would never dare to cross.

Years later, one of my students wrote in a journal that school is like a temple and the teachers are like gods. In that moment, reading those words, I realized that’s exactly how I had felt toward Mr. Reisman, or any other former teacher from East Leyden.

You have an incredible army of former students who love and respect you, Mr. Reisman. Your legacy will live on forever. Thank you!

Mark Kadzielawa

GALLERY OF PHOTOS: