The Intersection of Humanity and AI

The Impact of Mary Curtis: Lessons in Compassion and Care

3–5 minutes

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Every once in a while, someone joins a school community and becomes part of its heartbeat. Not in loud, flashy ways. Not with fanfare or the spotlight. But through steady presence, quiet care, and an unshakable commitment to making others feel seen, heard, and valued. Mary Curtis is one of those people.

This month, Mary is retiring from her role as a paraeducator. It is a moment filled with gratitude, emotion, and reflection for all who have had the privilege of working beside her. She may not seek attention, but her absence will be felt deeply across our school community, especially in the halls of our alternative high school, where she has been a constant source of support, stability, and gentle humor.

Mary’s journey in our schools is not a typical one. Between 1997 and 2015, she served in the Food Service department. For nearly two decades, she quietly nurtured students from a role that many overlook, but which is absolutely essential to the life of a school. Those years were not just about meals. They were about smiles at the lunch line, remembering names, checking in on students, and creating a moment of kindness in the middle of a student’s day. That, in itself, is a legacy.

In May of 2016, Mary returned—not to her previous role, but as a secretary sub. And then, a few months later, she took on a new role as a paraeducator. It’s easy to think of that shift as a career transition, but for those of us who know Mary, it feels more like a deepening of her lifelong commitment to caring for students and serving with heart. From day one, she made an impact—not with volume or bravado, but with her quiet strength, her calm demeanor, and her unshakeable belief in the students we serve.

Working at an alternative high school brings unique joys and challenges. It asks you to meet students where they are, to understand the weight they carry, and to offer them both structure and compassion. Not everyone is built for that kind of work. But Mary is.

She has a gift for connection. She notices the student who avoids eye contact. She shows patience when others feel frustrated. She gently teases with just the right tone to make a student laugh on a hard day. Her sense of humor is soft and unassuming, but it lands exactly when it needs to. Students who have been hardened by life’s circumstances often found in Mary something unexpected: kindness without judgment.

Mary doesn’t need to speak loudly to be heard. Her presence communicates all the right things. I see you. I care. You matter. These are the messages she has delivered every day, simply by showing up and doing her work with love and intention.

I can say without hesitation that I have felt the impact of Mary’s presence in my own life. On difficult days, she offered encouragement without ever making it a performance. On overwhelming days, she reminded me—often without saying a word—that it would be okay. She has a calming effect that is hard to explain and impossible to forget. To work beside someone who exudes that kind of steady peace is truly a gift.

There’s a strength in Mary that goes far beyond what most people see on the surface. It is a strength that has carried her through years of service, adapting to new roles, meeting new challenges, and always keeping her focus on the people in front of her. That strength has shown students what it means to keep showing up, even when life gets hard. It has reminded staff members that it’s possible to lead with gentleness and still be deeply respected.

As we say goodbye to Mary in her role as a paraeducator, we are not just marking an end. We are honoring a legacy. Her impact will linger in every classroom she stepped into, in the lives of students she quietly supported, and in the culture of kindness she helped nurture at our alternative high school.

Mary may be retiring from her daily work in our schools, but the work she has done here will continue to ripple outward. The students she encouraged will carry her kindness with them as they move forward. The colleagues she supported will take her example with them into the next school year. And those of us who had the privilege to know her will not forget what she gave us—a steady reminder that presence matters, that kindness matters, and that the quietest voices often carry the greatest wisdom.

To Mary: thank you. Thank you for your years of service. Thank you for your grace, your humor, your patience, and your strength. Thank you for being exactly who our students and staff needed you to be.

You have left your mark—not just in memories, but in hearts.

You will be missed more than words can say.

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