This one punched me in the gut, as Jason has been my mentor, friend, colleague, and spirit since arriving to Connecticut in 2011. He took me under his wings, guided me into the political part of my work, and modeled exactly how you use intellect, wit, a passion for teachers and young people, and beauty to make the world a better place. He was an English professor, a champion for writing, and an incredible family man. For the past year, as he learned of his cancer, he fought with pure hope and devotion (as he always has done). Each and every day, he shared his joy of journalism and news, his appreciation for gardens, light, skies, and trees, and total joy for his wife and kids. Not once did he complain, share any pain, or question this journey. Instead, he maintained happiness and purpose. He wrote. He shared. He championed everyone around him.
This is hard.
Jason and I were NWP roommates at the Annual Spring Meeting where we advocated for writing instruction, our work, and the importance of funding programs for teachers. We lobbied each and every year with Jim Himes, Chris Murphy, John Larson, Rosa DeLauro, Richard Blumenthal, & Joe Courtney. They always welcomed the two of us, and our teaching teams, with open arms, tremendous respect for the work we do, and appreciation for educators and classrooms. Jason showed me the ropes and, together, we have maintained National Writing Project work across Connecticut. We even loved doing shots with John in his office on St. Patrick's Day (although John would probably deny it)
Jason fell during the summer of 2023, thinking it was another bout of Lyme disease, or some aspect of Covid. He kept passing out, and finally ended up in the hospital where they found cancer spreading throughout his body. He couldn't be at his 2024 summer institute for teachers because he was hospitalized, but he continued to take part from a screen so he could champion their leadership. He never let the cancer stop him from what he loved most - being one of the best cheerleaders for writing instruction in our State.
We learned Jason was moved to hospice over the weekend, during the NCTE convention. I knew things were progressing rapidly, simply by his actions on social media. As a man who was constant about sharing news on his feeds, family stories, teacher greatness, and school coverage, his posts began to be more focused on nature...the beauty of a blooming flower or the light that hit a particular leaf in a certain way. He captured bliss daily...simple posts & reminders of how precious life is.
Jason and I live the world of grants. To do what we do, funding needs to be constant...that is, finding ways to invest in teacher leadership and young people. Jason's youth programming was stellar, as he published writers across the state each year and advocated for the excellence of public schools. He remained a lifelong learner, too, always asking questions, reading abundantly (I mean, non-stop), and trying to find solutions for a complicated world. He also weaved a foundation for his incredible work by networking, building infrastructure, and threading excellence in all he could.
And he loved a good margarita, as that was the go-to after lobbying in Washington or leading workshops in this or that state.
There are a million and one thoughts running through my head as I process the news, but the one that keeps coming to the forefront is the absolute integrity in which he lived his life. It was a spiritual strength that was at his core...something stronger than his literary passions and elbow-patched, sport coat meanderings. He lived by actions which were often underscored by his intelligence and question for brilliance. I sent him a collage of the beautiful photos he was posting to Facebook in his final months and wrote that these images were giving me purpose for my life. I wanted to return the favor as he moved back into hospitals and hospice. He hand-wrote a note & mailed it to me, outlining what he knew to be inevitable and naming he'd give the fight his best shot, but was practical by the statistics. He used each and every second of his last days (and entire life) to do good for others.
I always felt like Robin Williams meets Pee Wee Herman meets Jim Carrey when working around him, as he was always poised, articulate, determined, and astute with language, literacy, traditions, and canonical ways of knowing (his heart was always with Hawthorne). At the same time, he loved to laugh alongside me, especially as the lobbying work became more obvious to me and I'd ask questions of the offices. What's the craziest lobbying group you meet with each year? It turned out there is a passionate crew of chicken-lovers who speak for the chickens and raise funds to support them. When I asked, Do they come to the halls of Congress dressed as chickens or do they where suits like us? Jason chuckled and said, "I think of such questions, but Crandall will actually ask them."
We put so many miles on the ground together, walking from building to building, creating folders that advocated for our teachers, and sharing a love for National Writing Project work. We had a brotherhood that is hard to describe, and sometimes I'd look at his face and wonder if we shared bloodlines, histories, and family beyond our titles. Each and every year, Jason won incredible teaching accolades and every student I get at Fairfield who had Jason in their undergraduate days always sang praises of his classes being the best, a life-changing opportunity, and most important classes they ever took.
Phew. 55 years young. Way too soon. And I'm simply thinking of our more egotistical sides - the days when we talked about our own college experiences - when we discovered we both had long, luxurious hair that made us feel kingly and indestructible. When we realized this, we immediately found pictures of these days and passed them along to one another. Generation X hippies, perhaps....nerds who loved words...geeks who found meaning in books and discussing ideas....men who lived in our heads.
I am feeling for his family right now...his UCONN friends...his teacher leaders. It all came on quickly, and it is true - Dr. Jason Courtmanche is irreplaceable...the shoes will be impossible to fill, as he always took enormous steps in all that he did....a true teacher....a dedicated leader...a profound intellect. And I'm thinking about my first visit to his campus, where we laid out collaborative plans for the future. He knew I was a Syracuse guy and he covered UCONN basketball as a journalist during his undergraduate days. He made sure I could step into Gampel Pavilion, to feel the legacy (and rivalry) of college sport. He loved his work, that campus, and the labor of the National Writing Project mission hosted in the State.
I went for several walks yesterday where I simply let the memories return and the emotions do what they do. The tears are with tremendous respect for a man I admired, learned from, and appreciated. We operated in the parallel, always finding guidance in one another....
this loss will be felt for a very, very long time.
It is somewhat surreal, but I know the WWJD philosophy of how Jason would get things done: focus, scholarship, a celebration of teachers and young people as writers, and always those reminders that life is beautiful...precious...something to be cherished. Something to be captured in literary forms.
Dr. Courtmanche led by example, and I know his influence lives within me...within Connecticut....across the National Writing Project network, and throughout all the schools he's influenced. I will carry his fight onward and look to the sky, the sun, the rain, the glimmers of hope, and human kindness to do the work as he graciously mentored me to do. This is the Jason way....and my heart sends all it can to those hurting the most from this departure.
I am a better man because of Jason Courtmanche. Today, Thanksgiving, I'm giving thanks for the influence he had on me and for all he brought to our world. Jason's resilience has been remarkable and throughout his fight he maintained a focus on beauty, justice, intellect, and family. He remained a remarkable man until the very end. He leaves a legacy behind...and will now be a brilliant star in the sky.
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