by Sidney Brant

McCaskey students take an obligatory chemistry course as sophomores. By the end of the school year, two camps of people emerge–those who forget 6.02 X 10²³ and go on with their lives, and those who are left desperate for more knowledge to explain the deceivingly complex processes that compose our entire existence. From the latter emerges a fringe group of students, loyal and obsequious in their devotion to the subject, who will sign up for IB chemistry. 

My own standard-level IB chemistry class was sacred. This can be ascribed to its uncharacteristically small size for McCaskey, which continued to shrink until just seven students remained. The Darwinian thinning of the class left a group of kids so dedicated to the subject that, when we were absent from school, we would show up for 5th period and leave promptly after. 

The animating force behind the magic of the class, though, was the teacher. Mr. M’Mugambi taught IB chemistry at McCaskey for almost two decades, so when my classmates and I heard rumors of his retirement last spring, we didn’t believe it. When he confirmed it, casually telling the seven of us from a lab table in the back of the classroom, back turned as he messed around with a burette, we were at a loss for words (except for one student who managed an “oh”). 

Subsequently, Mrs. Ascherl’s retirement was announced–another veteran McCaskey chemistry teacher. The faces of chemistry at McCaskey were leaving, and it felt like the entire department was doomed to crumble without the very teachers who instilled a love for the subject in so many students. 

Teenagers envision so many scenarios in our heads–dead parents, broken friendships, missing dogs–but a teacher retiring never really crosses a teenager’s mind until it happens. Suddenly the impact is overwhelming, their presence indispensable. What happens when you realize that the teachers don’t live at school, and that the lost wing does in fact exist without Mr. M’Mugambi standing outside of his door, newspaper in hand? 

Halfway through the 2023-2024 school year, I am pleased to report that the lost wing is still standing, and that juniors can still be heard stressing and obsessing over IB chemistry in such a way that can only be provoked by passion. Mr. Phillips-Cary (P.C. for short) greets his students from the dent in the floor where Mr. M’Mugambi stood for so many years. Before he moved into room 251, P.C. taught at East. He didn’t know he would be teaching IB Chemistry this year, but when Mr. Deardorff approached him about it, P.C. said, “it was an easy decision to say yes […] I wanted to be challenged.” 

P.C. didn’t plan on becoming a teacher, either. Straight out of college he went into lab science, but it wasn’t long before the nonsocial setting became unbearable. He eventually made the decision to go back to school to become a teacher, “When I was in college, I was a chemistry tutor for a lot of other students and I really enjoyed it, so I contacted my professor and he told me to become a chemistry teacher […] I didn’t know what I was getting myself into until I was actually in the classroom, but all of a sudden everything just clicked, and I knew this was exactly what I was supposed to do.”

P.C. initially came to McCaskey as a student teacher, and although there wasn’t a job available at first, the school had already made an impact on him, “I loved knowing Mr. M’Mugambi, Mrs. Asherl, Mr. Deardorff–all of them solidified a sense of community here, so when a job did open up I knew I had to come back. There is a homey feeling here you just don’t get anywhere else.” 

Two of the three people that P.C. named as part of what drew him to McCaskey in the first place are no longer at the school. “It’s very hard because not only were they my colleagues, they were my friends. It’s hard to see how our chemistry department has lost great and valuable people, and how we’re struggling to find new people.” Their impact though, is still palpable: “what they’ve shared and brought to the table from the time that they were here, which is a very extensive amount of time, is incredibly valuable and beneficial to our department.”

P.C.’s love for teaching is obvious in the detail of his lessons, and the attention he pays to every student. Students are  receptive to his enthusiastic, affable demeanor and love for the subject–this was clear at the National Honor Society induction ceremony last Thursday. P.C. was given the distinct honor of being chosen by three different students to pin them, a task for someone who the student feels has had a profound impact on their life– “I still can’t believe the amount of connections I have made to students…when students tell me I’m their favorite teacher it’s kind of hard to believe sometimes, because there are so many great teachers in this school […] it really warms my heart.”

For P.C., knowing students on a personal level and vise versa is an important part of who he is as a teacher, “I want my students to know me for who I am as a person, and care for me as a person […] the way that I talk to my student is the way I talk to anybody.”

P.C. has quickly become the bond holding the chemistry department together, continuing to pique the curiosity of students and producing a new group of kids who are obsessively devoted to the science. The spirit of chemistry at McCaskey is still alive. The retirement of M’Mugambi and Asherl was a significant loss, and the department has changed a lot, but with P.C. leading the charge and taking on IB chemistry, a new era has begun.