Mr. Barlowe

I learned that my favorite high school teacher died this week. Philip Barlowe had taught English and creative writing for 27 years at Lowell High School. We exchanged a couple of letters while I was in college, but otherwise, I had no idea when he retired or where he was living.

When it came to writing and creative expression, Mr. Barlowe taught me to be myself. I can still hear him saying "don't write that down 'cause then you'll remember it."

He spoke with a peculiar cadence that could be mistaken for a drunk. My buddies and I joked about his got-dressed-in-the dark attire, which on any given day could include cherry red leather boat shoes, no socks, pink cotton pants and/or a black Cross-Colors T-shirt. He resembled popcorn legend Orville Redenbacher, complete with black rimmed glasses and white hair.

I took Mr. Barlowe's AP Composition class my junior year and his creative writing class as an elective my senior year. He loved top 10 lists. The class would often split into groups and color up poster-size paper with top 10 lists on vocabulary words, for example. We were also required to keep a journal for the class. My entire goal with the journal was to make him laugh - the entries were written with the thought he would be reading them, and I wanted to impress him.

Mr. Barlowe encouraged us to stretch ourselves. He rewarded effort and creativity, no matter how off-the-wall we went. I don't recall one particular moment that sticks with me. His influence is felt more in the creative mindset that he taught me how to tap. I don't want to make him sound like a guru. Maybe it's best to credit Mr. Barlowe for fortifying a foundation for writing along with respect for the English language.

Thank you, Mr. Barlowe.