One of the most important people in my life died last month.
Rose Sleigh was best known in this area as an extraordinary teacher for thousands of students at San Dieguito and Torrey Pines high schools between the late 1960s and late ’80s.
In the 10 years prior to her arrival on our shores, Rose changed lives and made lifelong friends among the students of Box Elder High School in Brigham City, Utah.
Rose was my teacher from the fall of 1976 to the spring of 1977. She was a fantastic teacher, deeply engaged in the world of literature and the work of writing, fully present for her students, always challenging us and regularly affirming our efforts and achievements.
Rose was, however, much more than that. She was the most curious person I have ever known, interested in everything, from elephants to esoteric ideas.
At the same time, she had an intensity of caring that I’ve rarely found in other people.
Her antennae for detecting children in trouble were impeccable. I can’t begin to tell you how many stories I have heard from former students about the lengths to which she would go to attend to a young person in crisis or depression or in withdrawal from the world.
Extraordinary teacher, yes. But more important in my mind, Rose was an extraordinary human being who took it upon herself to see as many youths through the treacherous shoals of adolescence as possible. There are plenty of people alive today because she gave a damn.
I want to say that we were friends for an additional 45 years. Yet somehow the term “friend” doesn’t quite capture what we were to each other.
She was in some sense a soul mate of mine, a steady presence, an honest and entertaining conversationalist, a friend to my mother and my wife, a grandmother to my son, a center of sanity in this not-sane world.
As she entered her 90s and faced myriad health issues, I had the honor of assisting her through difficult times, just as she continued to help me in navigating my own years of parenting and working and aging.
I initiated a GoFundMe campaign for Rose when she had to leave her home of many years.
The publicization of that campaign led to an extraordinary thing: scores of former students and peers getting in touch and sharing with Rose what an extraordinary effect she had had on their lives.
Rose was surrounded by love and deep appreciation in this last period of her life. That was a gift.
A little less than two years ago, in this newspaper, Rose wrote a ‘Thank you’ to the students she had taught here, and to their parents. I’d like to leave those of you who knew and loved Rose with her final words in that piece:
“I have always loved words. And I have loved you. Watching you move through the arc of your lives has filled my heart and enriched my life. And I thank you.”
No Rose, we thank you. We miss you. And we love you.
Joshua Lazerson
Encinitas
