The Legacy of Joel Krakoff: What I Learned from my First Mentor and Teacher

Joel Krakoff would have turned 81 today. A son, brother, husband, father, grandfather, and elementary school teacher, he has missed out on countless life events since he passed suddenly and unexpectedly on June 24, 1995. My dad has missed out on so much quality time with his brother and retired civil rights attorney Jerry Krakoff, my uncle, who once desegregated parts of Mississippi’s public school system. He has missed the past 25 years with my mother, who still lives in the same house where she and my dad moved into back in 1960 in Pittsburgh. He has missed out on seeing how my two older brothers’ and my lives have developed, including the birth of his grandchildren, major highs and lows that come with life’s journey, and the countless events and conversations that his presence would have changed. So much has changed since he died as a result of complications from Wolff Parkinson White Syndrome at 55. But his lessons remain rich in wisdom and as relevant, perhaps even more so, than they did back then, while reaching an audience far behind his own family.

Embrace Others for Exactly Who they are

“If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears the beat of a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.” – Henry David Thoreau

This was my dad’s favorite quote. As a kid, I remember reading it daily as it was framed and hung in our house. It’s the quote I’ve thought most about since my birth. As I aged and matured, my interpretation of it deepened along with the connection it helped me make between my dad’s teachings and its meaning. 

It seems timely in 2020 to remember how clear my dad’s expectations of me were: accept others for who they were period. I learned at a young age that all humans were to be accepted, appreciated, celebrated, and respected. My dad talked to me when I was a young boy about the subjects that are tearing our country apart – race, sexuality, religion, gender, ethnicity, or ANYTHING else that makes us different from one another. My dad included discussions about accepting people whose opinions might be quite different from my own. He talked about all people having value and that the characteristic that really mattered was the person’s character. My dad taught me from birth to seek friendships of all kinds, shapes, colors, and sizes, and my life has been much fuller because of it. And I learned to be proud of who I am. I grew up as one of the only Jewish kids in the school district where I attended school and faced a number of conflicts, one particularly serious in nature that included a hate crime and a group of self-proclaimed, “skin head,” but because of my dad I also have always been proud of my own heritage and genetic background and defended what made me who I am fiercely. Because of him, I also have always been quick and decisive in stepping up to defend others who face any form of bigotry, discrimination, or wrongful violation of basic rights. He would be deeply saddened to see the hate and bigotry that divides our people today. 

Growth Mindset Before it was Called Growth Mindset

When I have faced my most daunting obstacles to success both personally and professionally, I have always reminded myself of the commitment to perseverance that my dad ingrained in me as a kid. I remember talking with him about how our greatest teachers were disappointment and shortcomings. 

When I initially considered changing career paths from sports journalism to education, my dad suggested I complete my bachelor’s degree in journalism as planned and re-evaluate knowing I could always return to school for a graduate degree in education. He invited me into his third-grade classroom to observe to gauge whether I really wanted to follow his path. What I remembered most from visits to his classroom was how he celebrated wrong answers from his students. He praised students’ effort and willingness to take intellectual risks even when offering incorrect answers to questions. In my own times of struggle as a young man, he would tell me that if something was easy I really wasn’t learning anything because that would mean I already knew how to do it. Frustration precedes learning, after all. The students who learned in his classroom in the Baldwin-Whitehall School District between 1972 and 1995 learned to keep going when they made mistakes and to always seek the path of growth and learning rather than frustration or stagnation. Imagine if all students and educators truly embraced this mindset. He knew the importance of growth mindset before Dr. Carol Dweck coined the term at Stanford University. 

Obligation to ALL Kids

I remember my dad’s stories at home about his students. He talked often about students, challenges, and what motivated him. There wasn’t a day he complained about his job because he never saw teaching as a job. It was truly his passion and calling. But the stories that stand tallest in my memory are my dad’s talks about kids he worried about. The kids who in his view lacked a champion.

When my dad would share stories of students he was concerned about, whether it was because of learning deficits or social emotional concerns, he told personalized, customized stories of concern. He would talk about how every student and person needed different kinds of help to be successful in school or life. Well before President George W. Bush’s administration introduced “No Child Left Behind,” my dad would spend his weekends considering strategies that might help him to provide the support particular students needed to change their paths from struggle to success. He would say things like, “It’s just not working for this kids, so I have to find a way to give him what he needs.” In an era of education that came before differentiated instruction became an art, my dad worked to offer different students different agendas in his class depending on their needs. 

Then there were the house calls or visits. When a student struggled, my dad would spend quite a bit of his evenings sometimes talking to a student’s parents on the phone, trying to involve them in the plan to help. On some occasions, I recall him heading off to drop by students’ houses to check on them or to talk with their families about redirecting the student’s path. He took ownership over student failure even when it wasn’t directly resulting from his teaching. For my dad, when a student failed, he owned it and felt that he failed to push the right button for that individual student. You might ask how I’m so sure. If you knew my dad, you know that he talked EVERYTHING out and repeatedly until he was sure his course of action was the best. If there is one thing I remember from my childhood and young adulthood, it was my dad’s reflections of his teaching and life experiences. 

Value in Honesty, Discussion, Empathy, and Forgiveness – Restorative Discipline Before it was Called Restorative Discipline

I heard all the stories about my dad’s own childhood. To put it mildly, he was no angel. He had his share of dust-ups with peers, his two brothers, and didn’t always like to follow rules. My grandfather, his father, was the opposite of passive. So the household conflicts were stuff of legend when my dad was growing up. Perhaps the formula of rebellious kid and hard-headed, aggressive dad explained my dad’s approach to parenting and teaching when it came to discipline.

My dad brought a strong presence with him into any teacher or father scenario. He had rules and they were never optional. Nor were they negotiable or created collaboratively. He was stubborn in that sense. There was right and there was wrong and there were consequences. He was the parent, I was the kid, he was the teacher, and his children in his classroom were the students. In no way was there equal footing. But ironically, once a situation was over, it was over. For good.

My dad had this ability to forgive kids. His own and his students. Of course, when you messed up, you had to first endure the lengthy discussion that followed that would methodically cover your poor choice, why it was poor, and include you facing your mistake, apologizing to everyone who suffered as a result of your mistake, and taking any steps necessary to, “make things right.” But he had the uncanny ability once a situation was managed and rectified thoroughly, to forgive the wrong doer, understand that the wrong doer can learn from his or her mistake and become a better person for it, and to leave the situation in the past. There weren’t grudges. Only fresh starts to do better and the freedom to grow rather than languish in self-loathing and reduced self-expectations. He never gave up on anyone who mattered to him, and everyone mattered.