September 20, 2010
To the family of Dr. J.H. Kunkel,
With sadness, it came to my attention just yesterday that Dr. Kunkel had passed away in May. Please accept my belated condolences.
In 1993, I started my undergraduate studies at the University of Western Ontario in London, Ontario, Canada. I had the pleasure of taking Sociology 020 with John that year, one of my five first-year courses. While I went on to earn an honors degree in Philosophy, John's influence from that course permeated the rest of my academic career.
During my time at UWO, the first-year courses were conducted in large lecture halls that were well-populated--all five of my classes had over 300 students. As an individual, it was easy to see yourself as little more than a number, a face in the crowd. Furthermore, professors generally did not conceal the fact that they would rather be teaching graduate seminars. It quickly became obvious that John saw things differently.
During an early lecture, John encouraged us to visit him during office hours if for no other reason than to ensure that he "wasn't just twiddling his thumbs." I was intrigued by John's invitation and took him up on it the very next week. (While all of my other professors listed office hours on their course outline, none of them laid out the proverbial red carpet in this way.) While I am sure that I was a bit nervous approaching John's office door the first time, subsequent visits proved to be anxiety-free, thanks entirely to John's warmth, caring, and sense of humor.
My meetings with John became an almost-weekly tradition that often lasted the entire length of his office hours or more. While we occasionally discussed course content, it was more likely that we would get caught up talking about current events, his trips to Chile and the Yucatan Peninsula, or one of John's favorite topics--reasons why I should not go to Law School. (John did not hide his feelings when it came to describing the actions of defense attorneys as criminal.) Given the stresses of being a first-year student, my visits with John proved to be both insightful and therapeutic.
I would be remiss if I did not tell you how much John also liked to talk about family. He so often spoke about Katharine and Michael (not wanting to confuse one Michael for the other, he always referred to him as "my Michael") that I felt as though I knew them. While I do not recall the details of everything we discussed, it is hard to forget how proud John was when he talked about Michael obtaining his helicopter pilot's licence. By the end of my first year, I like to think that John and I had forged more of a friendship than a professor-student relationship, a sentiment that I am confident he shared.
I was disappointed when I found out that John was going to be retiring from UWO, but happy to know that he would be getting back to both Arizona and California. While our face-to-face meetings decreased following my first year, I continued to correspond with John by email when he left for the United States. Most recently, in January of 2008, he sent me a signed copy of his "The Winged Soul--Plato's Autobiography." This came just after I had proudly announced to John that I had completed my Masters of Education degree. I acknowledged John in the preface to my thesis, entitled "Exploring the Role of Proof in the Ontario Middle School Mathematics Curriculum":
"Throughout my undergraduate studies, I sought the informal counsel of my first year sociology professor, Dr. John Kunkel. Since retired, I continue to correspond with John and thank him for always encouraging me to think critically about my academic endeavours."
I am pretty sure that John was happy knowing that I opted out of Law School in favor of Teachers College. I earned my B.Ed. in 2000 and have been teaching middle school for the last 10 years. John's character and pedagogy continue to influence my professional practice to this day. I often quote John verbatim to my students when I share his "rule of thumb" for studying--"for every hour in class, you need to spend two hours out of class reviewing the work." I did not actually follow John's suggestion until somewhere during my third and fourth undergraduate years but hope that my students will heed his advice much sooner.
I am a big fan of author Mitch Albom's work, particularly his "Tuesdays With Morrie." When I read this story aloud with my students, I first think about my grandfather but I also cannot help thinking about John. He was undoubtedly one of the greatest teachers I have had come into my life. I particularly wish we could have had another "Tuesday" to chat about my two recent trips to John's native Berlin, a place I have come to love, and to generally update him on things going on in London, Ontario. I have never visited California but one of my goals was to come and see John in La Jolla. While John's passing means I will not be able to fulfill this dream in its entirety, I still vow to stop there when I come to the area, perhaps as soon as next summer.
While I am sure that John had a similar impact on countless other colleagues and students throughout his career, I wanted you to know that I for one held and will continue to hold him in the highest regard as a friend, teacher, and mentor.
"Have you ever really had a teacher? One who saw you as a raw but precious thing, a jewel that, with wisdom, could be polished to a proud shine? If you are lucky enough to find your way to such teachers, you will always find your way back. Sometimes it is only in your head. Sometimes it is right alongside their beds . . . . The teaching goes on" (Albom, M., Tuesdays With Morrie, 1997).
Thanks for reading. From my family to yours, all the best.
Sincerely,
Mike Dlouhy
London, ON
CANADA
mkdlouhy@sympatico.ca
