The Hudson School Magic

The Hudson School stands out from our peers for our teacher retention. Not only is our average teacher tenure more than twice the national average, but each member of the group featured here has more than 20 years of bringing Hudson School magic to our classrooms.

As both a current teacher, and a former student, I have benefitted in two ways from this group of 20+ year pros. First, many on this list were my teachers; these were the people who greeted me each morning in my homeroom, and who encouraged my classmates, siblings, and me to excel each day. I was on the receiving end of their expertise and knowledge as well as their utter commitment to teaching and to their discipline.

Second, having joined the THS faculty in 2015, these are now my colleagues. I am still benefiting from their expertise, knowledge, and commitment. They set the bar high not only as educators, but also as examples of what it truly means to be lifelong learners and mentors. And they’ve built relationships with students that have transcended the classroom and continue today. Their longevity, fierce commitment, and enduring impact speak to the magic of The Hudson School.

To honor these educators, we recently asked them to share a memory, lesson, or inspirational moment. Their responses are as eclectic as their classes and teaching styles.

-Randi Roberts '05

Isabelle Monaco

French Teacher

One of the constants at Hudson has been the freedom to teach in any way we want. No imposed textbook or methodology. I have always been grateful for this creative freedom. One of my early experiments was teaching through French cinema. One year, I had an all-girl class and the movie 8 Femmes by Francois Ozon was very much in vogue. After watching and studying the film, which is a black comedy musical mystery with eight big-name French stars, we decided to spoof it. Students created a Hudson School murder mystery, learned the songs, acted the scenario out, and filmed it! We had a lot of fun doing it. I still have the DVD if someone is interested!

Ari Räisä

Science Department Chair

The longer I have taught, the more motivated I have become. In this particular moment, it seems to me that critical thinking and, specifically critical thinking about sources of information, is more important than ever before. As a teacher, a huge part of my job is teaching students to analyze the vast amount of information that is available to them. Citizens who know how to question things are not easily tricked with misinformation and propaganda. Real science teaches fact-based decision-making, honesty, and hard work through research. It educates you on how to question and whom to trust. Even after all these years, I love teaching and feel incredibly stimulated by its challenges. What can I say? I am an excitable person, and I feel passionate about what I do.

Ritsuko Yokota

Japanese Teacher

Since the Park building was constructed, I've spent most of my teaching time in Room 204—the lovely library space. It's often filled with students as we create art, practice calligraphy, sing, and dance. One morning, as I walked into the room, I was greeted with a delightful surprise: It was filled with beautifully folded origami cranes and flowers! No one knew who had made them. It was a heartwarming reminder of the supportive and creative spirit our school nurtures in both students and teachers.

Dan Burrell

Athletic Director

Here is one of my favorite stories that exemplifies a Hudson athlete: I had an athlete on the track team that just wanted to be a part of the team. At practice, he struggled just to do a warmup lap around Church Square Park, walking after a few steps in every drill. At track meets, I never made him (or any student) run unless he wanted to. My only caveat was: If you start a race, you must finish the race or you have to find your own way home. This was an empty threat, of course, but it was my way of saying: If you start something, you have to finish it. That’s a good life lesson. One chilly and rainy Saturday morning in Secaucus, this particular athlete came up to me and said he wanted to do the 3200-meter run, which is eight laps around the track. I reminded him that there were consequences to not finishing the race, and he said he knew. I signed him up for the race, and he ran. He was doing his best, but struggling. After two, three, four times around the track, other competitors had lapped him. Still, he kept on going! And his teammates were cheering him on in the rain and giving him support! He was stumbling and breathing heavily, but he never quit. He still had two laps to go when the other competitors had all finished, and runners were lining up for the next race. Didn’t matter. He kept going. As he approached the finish line, the crowd was clapping and cheering, and his teammates were waiting with water and hugs. After he crossed the finish line, he went off to the side and collapsed, as he was incredibly tired. His teammates jumped on him and celebrated as if he had won a gold medal in the Olympics. When he came to me, I said “I am so proud of you.” He said “Coach, I had to prove to myself that I could do it because you said, ‘If you put your mind to it and want it, you can do anything.’”

Jeffrey Gould

Social Studies Teacher

The day I first visited The Hudson School, I donned my finest suit. Walking in, it was apparent that I was an outsider, since no one else was dressed so formally. Mrs. Newman's office, and the entire high school, were located in the Hoboken Public Library. I walked up the creaky grand staircase and felt I was going up into someone's attic. I walked down the twisted hallway, only to discover that there was a violin lesson taking place there. After seeing all this I was beginning to wonder if this was a place where I would actually want to teach. In Mrs. Newman's cramped corner office, we had a lovely, free-flowing discussion. She then invited me to observe a few classes. I first went to World Civ class, where Charlie Case was leading a discussion requiring students to dig deeply into the nature of a piece of art from the Newark Museum; it was a very impressive demonstration. I next went to one of Andy Stapp's classes. The fact that it was conducted in the basement—where I had to duck on several occasions to avoid hitting my head on low-hanging pipes—was a bit disquieting, to say the least. But with Andy's vast expanse of knowledge, it was no surprise the class was astonishing.

After my visit, I quickly realized that a school’s building has little bearing on its quality; what’s far more important is the learning that takes place within those hallowed walls. It was at that moment that I knew that my soul truly belonged at The Hudson School! I can't possibly imagine my life without Hudson and am grateful to Mrs. Newman every day.

Emily Ford Sytsma

Lower School Division Head

One of the things that I noticed right away when I started teaching here is the love this community has for stories. Whether it is the stories shared in our daily gatherings or those recounted by the teachers around the lunchroom tables, stories are told every day. Over the years, some of the stories shared have changed my life, and sometimes the act of sharing a story from my own life has changed me too. This is a place where every person’s story matters, and people take time to hear them.

Margarita Dominguez

World Language Department Chair, Spanish Teacher

Walking into Hudson, I felt like I was walking into a temple of learning. Back then, we were based in the Hoboken Public Library. There was often music coming from stairwell landings because there were not enough classrooms, so teachers found various other spaces. Entering the teachers’ break room, I would hear passionate conversations about social justice topics, literature, and their teaching experiences. I admired how students focused on learning, regardless of the building conditions. Their level of engagement, intellectual maturity, and curiosity motivated (and still motivates me today) me a great deal.

Adam Sentoni

Acting and Music Teacher

This year’s upper school production of The Lion in Winter marks the 20^th stage production I have directed at THS. Over the years—regardless of changes in the school, in the world, and in the generational focus—one thing has remained constant: Theater productions have called upon levels of courage, compassion, and commitment from the students in fundamental and life-expanding ways. It takes an incredible amount of work and preparation to perform: The students must fulfill the seemingly insurmountable task of memorizing, on average, two hours of lines, dialogue, and staging—all the while, they’re employing empathy and irony to understand and communicate a character, and they’re collaborating with the rest of the cast and crew. Then, to perform, they summon incredible courage and stamina to present their work to the community. It’s a colossal undertaking that they, year after year, accomplish with great personal struggle and success. The look in their eyes after a performance—the tears and sense of accomplishment, the embedded memories in their spirits—have been a moving experience to share and witness.

Rebecca Brasser

First Grade Teacher

As a teacher, I have always aimed to provide a sense of calm stability in the classroom. That was easier said than done during my first year of teaching, when our class fish kept dying–addressing pet loss grief with first graders was not in my teacher training! Finally, in the spring of 2003, we welcomed Hermione, our class turtle, and she has been with me ever since. Hermione embodies the stability that children crave, and they, in turn, learn what Hermione, and all animals, need in order to feel safe. She is as much a part of the community as our students, teachers, and parents.

Jack Coggins

Assistant Head of School

If the lifespan of the universe were scaled down to one calendar year, my entire THS tenure could be cozily tucked into the final one-tenth of one second leading up to that present midnight. Dauntingly insignificant am I...are we. And yet I am…we are. Too much of that lonely tenth of a second was consumed with a fear that, more than just being, I had to be something or someone. I do not judge myself too harshly for capitulating to this calling card of humanity, but in looking back, I do find solace in that THS, as much as any community might have, consistently invited me to simply be.