Frances O’Connor

Retirement Tribute

 

It was by a strange and fortunate combination of fate and malaise that most all of us here have had our lives touched by Ms. O’Connor. Some of you may not know this, but several years back as an undergraduate at the University of Kentucky, Ms. O’Connor approached the school’s arena scheduling with the dream and aspiration of becoming the best architect this world has known. Much to her dismay, the line for future architecture majors was just too long for her liking. Never being the type who would tolerate something as petty and conformist as having to waste precious time waiting in line, she chose a shorter line and our lives are better because of it. She chose the education line.

 

We students of Ms. Taylor/O’Connor will take true this story as a perfect metaphor for a woman who never seems to have the patience for simply “going through the motions.” This image is further bolstered by a combination of sage-like wisdom and the easy spirit of that fun aunt you can’t wait to visit over the holidays. We, her friends and co-workers, would agree but we’ve also been privy to the core of Frances, the engine that drives her blithe spirit. That is the drive and strength to raise two highly-successful and wonderful daughters single-handedly, pour every inch of her heart and soul into her teaching on a daily basis, and maintain a vast network of friends and family who rely on her compassion and outlook to get through their day. This woman, who has been known to wear other people’s glasses by mistake is driven by a fierce sense of determination which is strengthened by razor-sharp intelligence (she’ll be shaking her head) and balanced by a pragmatic sense that her life is too short for the mundane and her voice too important to be silenced.

 

One of the most frustrating things about working with Frances is her ability to see the one step beyond what the rest of us see. I want to thank her for all the time she spent waiting patiently for me to realize that when she said “Take my word for it, this isn’t going to work,” I should have just taken her word for it. Luckily for many of us here, Ms. Taylor/O’Connor knows it’s the experiences in life, not directives that fuel our learning. We collect facts by doing worksheets, but we experience from the juiciness of a watermelon on a warm fall day, we feel from visions of gathering pecans and two homemade kites flying off into the sunset and we grow by understanding that you never really get to know a person until you crawl inside his skin and walk around in it. Frances is a big picture lady who has spent far too much time in her life waiting patiently for the rest of us to figure it out. Where the average teacher sees lesson plans, Frances sees the opportunity to teach someone how to experience life, her big picture, beyond the insignificant details and to the heart of what it means to be human. This is a gift you cannot teach this in an education course. This is what makes her a treasure to us all.

 

Her outlook is both deceptively simple and intricately layered. Commenting on our nation’s recent war-torn and conservative swing, Frances will answer, “Commas.” When life turns conservative and uncertain, people gravitate toward skills and commas. We take refuge in the black and white, the known and unknown. It is a comfort for us. Knowing Frances as we do, we know that she has never and will never settle for life’s black and white status quo. Frances has always existed in the yellows and blues and greens and purples, and has pushed and pushed in the true spirit of St. Francis school and Frank Q Caycee for her students to understand that life is fleeting and much too important to worry about conformity, conventional wisdom and the next “new” buzzy trend. In every ounce of her teaching Frances wants us all to know what so many of us today have forgotten in our over-scheduled lives that, “The only bond worth anything between human beings is their humanness.” and only a few scholars and poets ever see our Earth for its true beauty. As we celebrate a successful career, I mourn the tie that’s been severed between Frances and our children. Anyone can go to school to teach, few are ever blessed with the wisdom of an Atticus Finch, the graceful and elegant passion of a Miss Maudie, the child-like understanding of a Scout as well as the ability to recognize all of Life’s Mockingbirds.

 

Long past today, Frances will continue to dance her way gracefully through life in her flowing light linens and bright and varied hats. As always, some of us will see this dance as that of a woman blissfully naive to the intricacies of life. However all of us here, who know her, see the dance of a loving mother, teacher, friend, and intellectual who is far too knowing to care, and far too passionate about life to simply wait in line.

 

Brian Archibald