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Brian Barry reflects on 52 years at RIT

Associate Professor Brian Barry began his RIT career in 1973. After 52 years of teaching, he is set to retire on June 30. Barry was jointly appointed to the College of Liberal Arts’ Department of Sociology and Anthropology and the Department of Psychology. Early in his career, he served as the Caroline Werner Gannett Professor. When reflecting on his time at RIT, he says a point of pride was introducing new courses to campus, including the ever-popular Death and Dying course.

Barry describes himself as an intellectually curious person and an avid reader. Teaching was the perfect career for Barry, as it allowed him to read and explore those curiosities. Working in higher education was a particular joy because, he says, college students are really beginning to think and explore various issues as they settle into their own beliefs, making for engaging and fascinating conversations.

When it came to his approach to instruction, Barry made room for these student-driven conversations. He says that one thing that has marked his teaching career is that he didn’t bring notes to class. 

“At one point, I convinced myself that it was unfair to expect students to learn things that I haven’t learned or that I needed to reference notes to report on,” said Barry. “There was a spontaneity to that way of interacting with students that was enhanced by this approach.”

Many of the courses Barry taught explored topics that are very personal. He describes the subject matter as exploring the “broader spectrum of who the students are personally,” and he says he is proud of the community of trust he and the students created in the classroom.

As he looks toward starting his retirement, he shared some reflections on his career.

Why were you interested in teaching Death and Dying?

Originally, I wasn't interested in it. My first dean in the College of Liberal Arts, Paul Bernstein, saw that Johns Hopkins was offering a course in death and dying. He asked me whether I'd be interested in setting up a parallel course, and I said no. I was much more interested in political issues than I was in death and dying. But then my mother died of breast cancer, and I realized that there were some things happening to me, and things that I observed in other people, that were worth analyzing more academically. So, I put together the course.

One of the ironic things about the process was that when the curriculum committee looked at it for their approval, they said I needed to change the title to something like Thanatology 101. They thought Death and Dying may be too foreboding and it wouldn’t attract much of an audience, but if we called it Thanatology—which is the Greek word for death—maybe I’d be able to get it started. I ignored that advice and, as it turned out, we didn't encounter that problem at all. 

I've taught Death and Dying for over 40 years now. At one point, when we were on the quarter system, I was teaching it up to 10 times each year. The demand for the course has been insatiable. I’m proud of both the fact that I put the course together and that it was received so well. 

I always joke that nobody taking the course has ever died during the course. I tell students that we deal with some heavy topics, but I try to keep a relatively light approach. I didn’t want this to be a course that students dread coming to because it brings them down psychologically. I've never received a negative reaction saying this course was too depressing. I tend to get a welcoming response because very few people have an opportunity to talk about what's going on when they're grieving. I oftentimes get letters from students at the end of the semester, or even much later, saying that they were dealing with a death in their family or friendship network and they think the course really helped them get through it. That is always gratifying to learn.

What are some of your most cherished memories from your teaching career?

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a man and a young woman stand in a livingroom. The woman holds a diploma from college.

Provided

Some of Brian Barry’s fond memories from his time on campus include seeing his daughter Christine earn her RIT diploma.

The best memories come from the relationships I’ve built with my students. A few years ago, there was a student in my Death and Dying course who made infrequent but very thoughtful contributions to the discussions we were having. I told her how impressed I was by her contributions and invited her to be my teaching assistant for two years. We've stayed in touch since she graduated. In fact, we formed a two-person book club together and we try to pick a book each month to read and discuss. We’ve not always done things on time, but her friendship has meant a lot to me. 

There's another student that I formed a friendship with who went on to set up her own company where she offers grief services to people in prison. She now works in five different prisons in the Midwest. To find out that some of the students are not only benefiting personally, but they’re also finding a way to integrate what we talked about in class into their lives and careers, is really a gratifying experience. 

What are your post-RIT plans?

I'm going to do a large amount of reading, which has been a lifetime habit. I may even read some books that I don't have to take notes on, so there could be a more relaxed kind of approach. I hope to do a little bit of writing, and I've got two topics I want to expand upon. I also hope to continue to nurture the good relationship I've formed with our granddaughter. Unfortunately, I am also someone with Parkinson's disease now, which is the reason I had to retire. I'm going to be spending more time than I'd like going back and forth to medical appointments. But generally, I’m looking forward to a relaxed retirement.

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