A longtime friend died yesterday in an automobile accident on her way back from Clovis to Albuquerque. She and a colleague died after their car collided with a large truck.
Joyce Briscoe and her husband John helped on my very first Land Commissioner race back in 1982. She was a charter memeber of the State Land Advisory Board that I passed through the legislature. She represented teachers. Joyce was a gifted and much loved teacher in the Albuquerque Public Schools. Her students revered her and she was named Disney's Teacher of the Year in 1990. She specialized in Literature and more importantly she taught her students to think critically. She was a champion of science. She was described this way by the ACLU when they awarded her the Volunteer of the Year Award in 2005.
"Joyce Briscoe will receive the ACLU Volunteer of the Year Award for her assistance in the ACLU public education program. Among her contributions, Joyce organized community demonstrations to raise awareness about the USA Patriot Act; organized an ACLU workshop on teacher rights through the teacher's’ union; and organized projects centering on student privacy, military recruitment, and intelligent design. She recently retired from 25 years of teaching American literature, Western civilization and government at Manzano, La Cueva and Sandia High Schools."
Joyce often asked me to speak to her government classes and I always gladly accepted. It was very rewarding for me to see her interactions with her students who obviously stood in awe of her. There are just not enough people around like Joyce.
I talked with her husband John this afternoon. He is an architect and all around decent man. He and Joyce had their fingers in every good cause in New Mexico. I asked him what I could do to help him out and he said, "you and other progressives just win your elections for Joyce." Thats all he wanted.
5 comments:
Joyce Briscoe was one of my teachers at La Cueva. I can't say I always agreed with her politically, although I'm a Democrat. But she had a passion for what she did and a love of great literature -- and literature, rather than history, was her strong suit. Her dedication to civil liberties will long be missed. I am certain her memory will live on in many La Cueva, Sandia, and Manzano alumni.
At Manzano High School in the 1980s, we were taught to call Joyce Briscoe “Ms. Briscoe” and when we graduated in 1986 our transition to “the real world” was marked by her permission to call her Joyce. With this first name familiarity, came a card with her phone number. We could call her, she told us. Not just to jabber on the phone and not if there was anyone else we thought might be helpful, but in an emergency, we could call her. I carried this card in my wallet until I
graduated from college, until it was too frayed and
worn to be of any use. I carried it because it
reminded me that Joyce had my back. And that meant
something.
Joyce took the clock off the wall and outlawed
wristwatches. She asked that we write all our papers
on recycled paper and, at the end of the year, let us
scrawl our warm wishes and silly jokes on the walls of
her classroom instead of the pages of a yearbook. She
wore a sailor suit to teach Moby Dick and though she
professed an aversion to hugging, she looped an arm
around my shoulders when I got in to the college of my
choice.
Joyce had an innate understanding of the myopic nature
of high school students. She spent her energy helping
us lift our eyes from our own navels (and those of the
hottie in the next desk) so that we might gaze at the
world around us. Enforced “cultural encounters” took
my classmates and I to the Greek Festival, downtown
for Dim Sum lunches and to the seats of the Guild and
Don Panchos for French films. She believed that by
living in the world and experiencing as much of it as
possible, you couldn’t help but build a kind of love
and respect for your fellow humans.
This morning, when I heard that Joyce had been killed,
I felt like a part of my foundation had shifted. I
haven’t seen her in some time, but I can hear her
voice, I can feel the charge of her conviction. I am
lucky enough to have wonderful, supportive parents and
friends and all of these people have helped to shape
the person I am today. Joyce was one of these people.
I am a better, smarter and kinder person because she
was in my life and I know somehow that there are a lot
of us who feel this same way. The best way to honor
Joyce is to keep our curiosity alive and to live as
honestly as we can. She would like that. I think she
would expect it.
Tanya Ward Goodman
1044 Manzanita St.
Los Angeles, CA 90029
323-251-4091
t Manzano High School in the 1980s, we were taught to
call Joyce Briscoe “Ms. Briscoe” and when we graduated
in 1986 our transition to “the real world” was marked
by her permission to call her Joyce. With this first
name familiarity, came a card with her phone number.
We could call her, she told us. Not just to jabber on
the phone and not if there was anyone else we thought
might be helpful, but in an emergency, we could call
her. I carried this card in my wallet until I
graduated from college, until it was too frayed and
worn to be of any use. I carried it because it
reminded me that Joyce had my back. And that meant
something.
Joyce took the clock off the wall and outlawed
wristwatches. She asked that we write all our papers
on recycled paper and, at the end of the year, let us
scrawl our warm wishes and silly jokes on the walls of
her classroom instead of the pages of a yearbook. She
wore a sailor suit to teach Moby Dick and though she
professed an aversion to hugging, she looped an arm
around my shoulders when I got in to the college of my
choice.
Joyce had an innate understanding of the myopic nature
of high school students. She spent her energy helping
us lift our eyes from our own navels (and those of the
hottie in the next desk) so that we might gaze at the
world around us. Enforced “cultural encounters” took
my classmates and I to the Greek Festival, downtown
for Dim Sum lunches and to the seats of the Guild and
Don Panchos for French films. She believed that by
living in the world and experiencing as much of it as
possible, you couldn’t help but build a kind of love
and respect for your fellow humans.
This morning, when I heard that Joyce had been killed,
I felt like a part of my foundation had shifted. I
haven’t seen her in some time, but I can hear her
voice, I can feel the charge of her conviction. I am
lucky enough to have wonderful, supportive parents and
friends and all of these people have helped to shape
the person I am today. Joyce was one of these people.
I am a better, smarter and kinder person because she
was in my life and I know somehow that there are a lot
of us who feel this same way. The best way to honor
Joyce is to keep our curiosity alive and to live as
honestly as we can. She would like that. I think she
would expect it.
Tanya Ward Goodman
Los Angeles, CA
campfiresally@yahoo.com
Like Tanya I was lucky enough to have Joyce as a teacher at Manzano. She constantly pushed and challenged and encouraged. There was no forced sentiment or false concern. With Joyce, you got what you saw and you knew that in the end she truly believed in you.
After graduation I would frequently run into Joyce around town. She encouraged me to go into teaching and later on the law school.
She lived a life that made such a positive impact on so many. Thank God I had the opportunity to cross her path.
annie chavez
ann_e_chavez@yahoo.com
Joyce ignited my passion for literature over a grueling semester of "Moby Dick" at La Cueva High School. Although she and I had nothing in common personally, we forged a lovely friendship based on a common thirst for literature. Joyce inspired, encouraged and challenged me like no other teacher. I credit her with my decision to double major in English Literature and Secondary Education. She left a void when she retired from APS, and now that void is more deeply felt. I am so grateful to have had her for a teacher and friend.
Francesca Strascina Garcia
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