A Tribute to a Beloved Coach, Mentor, Friend

eter Greer remembers Rick Parris as the friend who always brought him a sandwich on their hikes. Nancy Thompson remembers him as the intuitively brilliant mathematician who once looked across the academy softball field and told her its dimensions, completely accurately, off the top of his head. Eric Bergofsky remembers him as the man who was happiest when he had a good bowl of oatmeal for breakfast-- which he did, everyday.To Darby Henry, Parris was the prep-year math teacher who came to all her JV ice-hockey games. To Sam Helms, he was the instructor who gave him extra credit when he (correctly, but mistakenly) answered a question that was not on the test. And to Paula Gaither he was the patient, kindly coach who yelled maxims like "dos manos" and "gloves are just a distraction" across the softball field.Mr. Parris, who taught math at Exeter for 40 years, died suddenly of cancer last October, aged 67 years. But no one he worked with, taught, coached, inspired or befriended is likely ever to forget him.In recent conversations as well as in comments earlier this year, many people who knew Mr. Parris praised his work not only around the Harkness table, on the playing fields, and in the dorm, but also in the greater math world beyond the PEA campus.“Rick Parris is a major figure in high school mathematics education—he has impacted thousands upon thousands of teachers and students worldwide, through his work in competitions, software development and through the Exeter problem sets,” mathematics instructor Joseph Wolfson said at Parris’ memorial service.But Mr. Parris’ true passion lay here at Exeter, said religion instructor Peter Vorkink.“Here was a man who could have done many many things in his life and he chose to dedicate himself to math, math education and getting students interested in and excited by mathematics—that is a rare gift,” Vorkink said. “[Rick Parris] was a wonderful example of someone with virtually no ego and considerable humility whose real love is what goes on around the Harkness table every day in the classroom.”Darby Henry, a senior taught by Parris her prep winter, said that he had a perfect balance between seriousness and playfulness. “Mr. Parris had an ability to know exactly what his students needed,” she said. “130 math plus prep winter plus H format doesn’t usually equal happiness, but because of Mr. Parris it was greater than happiness—it the reason to get through the day.”Teachers and students alike spoke of Parris’ great ability to inspire his students through his infectious love of math and uncanny gift for conveying it to students.“Again and again, students tell of how his class changed something basic in their self-understanding,” Reverend Robert Thompson said, in an interview with the Exonian earlier this year. “Perhaps I am naïve, but this is remarkable to me; I am accustomed to understanding that the humanities are where you have life-altering experiences. Apparently, his love of mathematics was so infectious, that in his competent, caring hands, students were enabled to see their very existence in a new way.”In her Exonian column earlier this year, Ange Clayton said he was able to pass his excitement on to his students.“The enthusiasm he had for the subject was intoxicating,” Clayton said. “Each one of those 50-minute periods I spent with him was more than a class; it was a discovery. Not once did we go through the homework problems monotonously, we took each one and delved beneath its surface until some higher understanding was reached. In our explorations, Mr. Parris was right there beside us, pushing us to look beneath the face value of each assignment.”Parris’ infectious passion overflowed into every facet of his life. As a girls’ softball coach, Parris inspired students and fellow coaches with his unlimited patience. It was as if he had all the time in the world for students who needed the most help.Nancy Thompson, who worked with Parris for six years as a softball coach, recalled Parris’ dry, subtle sense of humor, and said she watched him endlessly help- ing players.“He would take girls under his wing and teach them from the ground up,” said Thompson. “He had so much patience and was willing to take as much time as a student needed in order to help them. All they needed to do was ask and he would do anything. HewouldworkononeskillwiththegirlssometimestothepointwhereI would think ‘they are STILL working on that?’”Parris’ flair as a teacher and as a coach ultimately emanated from his endlessly thoughtful personality.“He was absolutely considerate,” Darby said. “Only five people would actually come to our JV hockey games. Four of those people would be parents and the other one was Mr. Parris. He would always stop to see how you were doing on the path, even if you didn’t have him as a teacher.”Since he died, Parris has been celebrated in a number of ways. In November, The Academy held a memorial service in Assembly Hall, where speakers included colleagues, former and current students, members of his family, and family friends.So many people—from around the world—wanted to speak at the service that the organizers had great difficulty in trimming the list and keeping speakers’ remarks short, according to Vorkink.“We got messages from people in many different countries who knew Mr. Par- ris,” he said. “When you add all the requests up, we could have been there for hours.” The selected speakers reminisced with affection and sadness about a man theyknew and loved.“I cannot overemphasize how much his trust and support meant to me,” Wolfsontold the crowd during Parris’ funeral. “I recognized that I was in the presence of a master, even if he would never characterize himself as such. That he would trust me to offer opinions on his work was a big deal, and I suspect that all of us, colleagues and students alike, experienced this same level of respect from Rick.”Sam Helms, an upper, recalled the time when he sought Mr. Parris’ help after he misunderstood a problem on a test and answered a different, trickier question. “After taking a look at my answer, which was correct for the more difficult problem that I had done, he smiled and said "You've just earned yourself some extra credit."To honor the memory of her husband, Mr. Parris’ wife Pamela Parris, set up a “Rick Parris Fund” that would contribute to student financial aid and faculty outreach initiatives. Mrs. Parris worked with the Office of Institutional Advancement, which manages such funds, to further her idea.“He himself grew up in a family that never could have afforded to send him to the schools that he went to as an undergraduate or for his Ph.D.,” she said in a previ- ous interview with the Exonian. “I thought that a fund would make the most sense, because I know that he felt very strongly about getting students here whose families can’t afford to send them.”The “Rick Parris Fund” will also cover training for math teachers at peer institu- tions who express interest in using PEA’s math materials, Mrs. Parris said. “I was told it provoked an outpouring of contributions.”In addition, this year the relay for life event was held in honor of Mr. Parris.Meanwhile it is clear that Mr. Parris’ memory will live on in the hearts and minds of everyone he touched.“I think the memory of someone like Mr. Parris, given how important he was to so many people, is not likely to fade over time,” Vorkink said. “He left such a strong impression on so many people, there was such an outpouring of affection for him, that those memories will be very lasting.”Darby recalled how Mr. Parris always wore a maroon and white track boathouse, an athletic jacket, when he was walking to the gym,” recalled Darby. “Whenever I see that boathouse I always think it’s him. It reminds me of how he would always wave to me, how he was always always a comfort to see around campus and how he was part of what made Exeter feel like home for a lot of people.”Principal Tom Hassan said it was an “honor and privilege” to have worked with Mr. Parris, calling him “one of those heroic instructors who make Exeter great.”“Shunning the limelight, he was a person who could not do enough for those around him,” Hassan said. “He lived non sibi, in that he consistently did more than he was asked or expected to do.”Students and faculty now have to fill the void left by Mr. Parris.“But now what?” Wolfson asked the crowd at the end of his speech. “When we assemble this coming summer to revise our problems books, what are we going to do without Rick?