Mr. Zidek, Chemistry King

The first day of class we all piled into the fake room made up of foldable walls and sat at our desks, quiet for a moment and waiting. Mr. Zidek was sitting at his computer and made no sign of getting up from it. The chatter increased slowly as we realized he didn't mind us enjoying ourselves on the very first day. It was the last class of our schedules, too, so I'm sure he figured it was going to be a tricky semester. Plenty of students were CTE (Career and Technical Engineering) kids who, if you don't know Weaver, are the part-time students from other schools. Certainly, they hadn't signed up for Weaver to take a Chemistry class... They were probably there for the automotive or construction departments. What they probably didn't expect, though, was the opportunity to have an incredibly kind and knowledgeable teacher who guided us in improving our understanding of science.

One of those students is a friend of mine. I didn't know he'd be in the class, so finding a seat next to him was a pleasant surprise. Almost thirty minutes into our hour-and-a-half block of class, Mr. Zidek stood up. Everyone hushed themselves almost immediately. He took his time walking to the front of the class. If I remember correctly, he wrote his name on the board behind him, did a slow 180° to face us, and sighed for what seemed like a full three minutes.

"My name is Mr. Zidek. It's pronounced 'zy-dek.' Just like it's spelled." He took many pauses in between sentences and spoke slowly, almost drearily. Almost. Maybe he was checking if we were listening. But I thought then that he's just a thoughtful man. "Listen," he went on, "I know... that you are all here at Weaver for your... Your drawings, and your music, and..." (Turning to the side of the class with mostly CTE students) "...Your cars and wood-work as well." He smirked sideways. "I know Chemistry is not one of your priorities in High School! So let's make a deal. I'm going to help you as much as I can, and all you have to do to keep your end of the promise is to listen and do your homework."

Then he laughed, and we were all startled.

That semester, Mr. Zidek became my best friend, and I'm not even slightly joking. I looked forward to his class every day. He was too patient with me -- I did NOT deserve it! I basically claimed his rolling chair, drew nearly-obscene illustrations on his second white board every day, and sometimes put up fake announcements for quizzes that weren't happening. My CTE friend and I were constantly goofin'. I developed my friendships with two amazing women who are still friends of mine today in his class. And, I didn't keep up with my end of his deal: barely did the homework, slept in class, you know, the usual.

All of us were like that. And Mr. Zidek kept on loving us as his students, letting us draw on things and help each other on papers or assignments that we were supposed to do ourselves. There was never a SINGLE lunch period where he didn't have nearly ten students coming to him asking questions. He never had a lunch period where he could just Sit. And. Eat. I and a friend of mine had lunch with him amidst the tutoring nearly every day.

Every afternoon you'd see him directing traffic in the middle of the parking lot. He didn't have to do that. Maybe he was assigned the job, but, all year? Every year?

He spoke to me about his son a lot. Kept me updated with his works and murals. But more than anything, he listened. He'd listen to me ramble on about every ambitious dream, every ridiculous painting I was working on. He'd listen to me rant about my issues at home, my issues in school, my issues with other teachers. He'd listen to so much, and I, so little. I do not feel guilty because I know he wouldn't have wanted me to.

He cared about people so much. I've never had someone that I personally developed a relationship with pass away. I miss you, Mr. Zidek. Wish I'd had one more chance to talk to you. It's okay. I will invite you to my meditation circle next time I meditate, hope you'll join me. Thank you for everything you were and are to me and all of us! Peace to you in the next step of your spirit's existence.❤

What is art but expression? What is expression but existence?

ABSGELLER