This column makes no claim to do justice to its subject: a seasoned teacher, coach, advisor and club sponsor; an institution within an institution; a friendly, playful, hilarious, brilliant free spirit; a thinker and lover of words; and a father, husband and friend.

Imagine a normally even-tempered 53-year-old man hiding out in the house of his gleefully loud in-laws, surrounded by his daughter’s birthday party, sobbing in the bathroom.

That’s how I felt on Sunday when I received the devastating news about my friend and colleague Niko “Mr. T” Tsivourakis. The 46-year-old husband and father of two had died in his sleep. The void this sudden tragedy has left for so many people of all ages in Birmingham and beyond cannot really be described. But to preserve his memory, and because people should know, I will try to give just a glimmer, just a watered-down hint.

There are teachers who are drawn to the profession by their love of the subject, and there are teachers who are drawn to the profession by their love of young people. Since he hated logical fallacies, including false dichotomies, in Mr T’s case it was appropriately not an either/or. He was both of it. Among the countless other things he did at Altamont School for 18 years before an apparent heart attack separated him from his families at home and from work, he taught fifth and sixth grade English. He was the centerpiece of “Welcome Year” for most of our students, including my own biological children. He taught my daughters and coached one of them. He welcomed them, nurtured them, and taught them well. He created an environment where they learned to read and write and think more deeply, to become more aware of others and the big ideas of the world, and, perhaps most importantly, to realize that they were loved, something I will never take for granted or forget. His death just before the start of the school year shook my families at home and at work, but if I can manage to be an optimist, as Mr. T was, I can try to hold on to the strange fact that more tragedy can bring more unity: I know at least that my family is one of countless others feeling this pain. My daughters’ experiences were the rule, not the exception. (As I write this, on a visitation day before classes began, parents have already told me that Niko was the teacher who “got my little jock reading” or “got my math-and-science kid into literature.”) A successful sophomore with a Hindi name just walked in and told me, her voice cracking with excitement, that Mr. T was the reason she found the confidence years ago to gently correct the mispronunciation of her name. She said he made it very clear and public that it was important that He do it right. He taught a lot by explaining things well, and he taught a lot by example, by simply being who he was. All the examples would fill not one book, but a whole series.)

Niko’s intense curiosity and kindness are some of the qualities that cannot be acquired through study, but that all good teachers need. His classroom was a protected, benevolent kingdom where discussion and connection and humor and respect reigned. It was the perfect melting pot for getting young people to be truly educated, creative, expressive, engaged, and even ethical. And he was an equally encouraging force for his colleagues, always supportive, always ready to take over a class, share thoughts on how to help a student, initiate anything They are meant to help us work together, hone our craft, or just help us as people in general.

Even before I joined the faculty and experienced all this firsthand, he was one of the main reasons I applied for a position at Altamont. I already knew him because he had taught my oldest daughter (who is now in college), and I thought: If this institution includes such an honest, unpretentious, unconventional, eccentric, brilliant and truth-loving free spirit, then this is a place I can work.

And we work, with Mr. T being one of the staff members who sets the bar almost comically high. His work ethic was unmatched. He would get up even though there were many hours of darkness left to grade, plan, research, write parents, or stimulate his students’ hungry minds with reading or philosophy podcasts. He was always one of the first teachers on campus, and especially during football season, almost always one of the last. He organized end-of-season football games and pizza parties where parents competed against each other, and it was the most fun I’ve ever had with my girls and students.

At an English Department meeting in mid-August, we shared a little about our summers. Niko, who also taught summer school this year and most years, said something along the lines of “I really broke away from school for a while” by going on a family trip that was on his bucket list. The way he said it (and just knowing him) gave you the secret that his break from work was a rare exception. During that meeting, we were all happy for him that he had done that. Now we know it was even more meaningful than we thought.

If you think Mr. T was a boring geek, he loved to party and his teasing was legendary. My second day… I repeat, my second day when I was teaching a creative writing class for 5th and 6th graders at Altamont—remember, I’m new, I’m “out of the loop,” and I didn’t know these kids at all—several students from Mr. T’s classroom came into mine with a rehearsed message: “Mr. T says that even though this is a creative writing class, you are not creative another one Writer.” Wait, what? Nervous new teacher shakes head. Stunned. Silence. More silence… I’ve never been a new teacher who was bad-mouthed by another teacher. by students before. At some point I realized that this was an official greeting. But even that day, admittedly after some “okay, I guess this place is really different” reorganization, I realized how funny the situation was and I fell in my chair laughing so hard my eyes watered.

Now we prepare ourselves with sobs and tearful hugs, because there are still those eager, impressionable young people about to walk through the doors. Keep going, we tell ourselves. Keep going. That’s what Niko would have wanted. Ironically, the culture at Altamont – a mix of mission, tenacity, caring, love and support, the culture he embodied and fostered – is the attitude that will help us deal with the divide that hits us all in the chest when we think of him or walk past his classroom.

He was my friend, my children’s teacher, my beloved colleague, my joker and fellow thinker, but at least I know I’m not alone in this. Thank you, Mr. T., for everything.

Dan Carsen is a former journalist who teaches at the Altamont School in Birmingham. If you have a thought or story to share about Nicholas Niko “Mr. T.” Tsivourakis, sign the Guestbook here.

The service times are as follows:
Saturday, August 17 2024
We celebrate Niko, 6 p.m.
Family Life Center of the Catholic Church of St. Mark
7340 Cahaba Valley Rd,
Birmingham, AL 35242

Tuesday, August 20 2024:
Visit at 12 noon
Funeral service 2 p.m.
Reception follows
Family Life Center of the Catholic Church of St. Mark
7340 Cahaba Valley Rd,
Birmingham, AL 35242