Jessie Streich-Kest, who graduated from Murrow in 2006, was tragically killed along with her friend Jacob Vogelman in Hurricane Sandy. Jessie typified the ideal Murrow student as she enthusiastically participated in We The People and Senior AP Seminar English. Communication Arts teacher Mr. John Faciano remembers her fondly in her class and as a tribute wrote this touching piece.

Jessie Streich-Kest was a student in my Senior Advanced Placement Seminar class during her senior year at Murrow, the last year it was offered.  The class was perfect for her—it was originally created and designed by students in 1997.  The idea was to offer students who were intensely interested in English Language and Literature an opportunity to explore novels, poetry, non-fiction and drama at a faster pace in a Socratic discussion-centered environment.  When I told her that it was a class designed by students, she seemed a bit relieved, as if her faith in humanity was bolstered by a few degrees.  I believed that she was proud to be a part of what had then become a Murrow tradition created by students, and it was a perfect place for her to engage with her class mates in a subject she had loved.

Jessie spoke freely, argued logically, had strength and conviction in her opinions, yet never dominated  a discussion.  She viewed the class as a team working together towards a goal of understanding, and if there was dissension, as there often was, she argued her point patiently and confidently, and if others couldn’t be swayed, she valued and strove for consensus.

Jessie didn’t just talk about fairness, or injustice, or apathy—she acted, she lived the ideals and truths she believed.  I know this because she spoke to me about what she was doing with her time outside of school, with the organizations she was involved with, and when she asked me to be adviser for a new club she was organizing at Murrow, I reluctantly refused.  (How I regret that decision now!)  During the hours she would spend with me in the Yearbook office waiting for her next meeting with Mr. Lodico, or event or activity to begin, we would talk, many times with her dear friend Sam Lewis at her side.  We’d go over class discussions, admire brilliant points made by her peers that day, and then things would move to topics suggested by the texts, to issues of human rights,animal rights, gender equality, education policy, national security, the Patriot Act—she was ready to talk about anything.  I urged her to go to law school, become a lawyer so she could sue people—that we needed her to do that because she had such a fine sense of moral and ethical right and wrong.  Jessie refused.  Yet she wanted to know where I stood on these issues, demanded that I took a stance, and G-d forbid I didn’t have an opinion on something, I would get “the look,” an expression in her eyes and mouth that instantly made me feel as if I were not trying hard enough, that having a stance or an opinion on the issues was somehow connected with my ability to be empathetic and compassionate with the world, as if it were my responsibility to humanity to believe in something.  She was right.

She expected and often demanded the best of people, especially the adults in her life.  She wouldn’t allow any of them to let her down—she wouldn’t give you the chance, and in fact, you didn’t want to.  I knew I was in the presence of greatness when I was with Jessie, near to the best that is humanity, near the force and spirit that was able to bring out the best in me and others.  Life without Jessie is an immense,unspeakable loss, yet what we have lost I see and feel reflected and alive and vibrant in the people whose lives she touched.