Some chapters in a career close the way they should, with time to say goodbye properly, to thank the people who made the work meaningful, and to mark the ending before the next beginning.
And some chapters close faster than you would like.
When I was hired as Assistant Superintendent of West Vancouver Schools in 2007, the timing meant a rushed departure from Riverside Secondary in Port Coquitlam, where I had spent five of my six years in the Coquitlam School District, first as VP and then as principal. There was a goodbye, but not the one I would have chosen. Not enough time to properly say what I wanted to say to the staff, students, and families who had given me so much.
This week, nineteen years later, I was inducted into the Riverside Wall of Excellence, a recognition for past staff and students who have made contributions to the school and community. I was asked to speak at the ceremony in the school theatre.
I did not think of it as an award night. I thought of it as a chance to finally close the loop. Nineteen years later, I finally got to.
Here is what I said (at the bottom of the post is the video of the speech):
“I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.”
That quote from The Office has stayed with me for years, because the truth is, most of us only realize how special a time was after it has passed.
And for me, Riverside Secondary became one of those places.
To be standing here tonight is honestly emotional, because Riverside was never just a school to me. It was a community that shaped who I became as a leader, as a person, and as someone who still deeply believes in the power of public education.
When I arrived at Riverside as a 27 year old vice principal, I was young enough that some people probably wondered if I was lost and looking for Mr. Lepore’s Social Studies 11 class. And the funny thing is, Mr. Lepore was teaching here then and is still teaching here now.
In fact, at one of my very first staff meetings, a teacher asked how old I was. When I said “27,” she looked at me and said, “I have underwear older than you.”
And honestly… Riverside always kept it real.
But what mattered most was this: people could have watched me struggle. They could have sat back and thought, “Well, let’s see if this kid can figure it out.”
But that is not what Riverside did.
The staff here did everything they could to help me succeed. They supported me, challenged me, guided me, laughed with me, and occasionally rescued me from situations I probably created myself.
This school was still young and still figuring out who it wanted to be. But there was this incredible energy here. Riverside embraced innovation, technology, school spirit, and excellence before those things became buzzwords. There were championship athletic teams, extraordinary arts performances, and every once in a while I would nervously pick up the latest edition of The Eddy to see what students were saying about us. Sometimes it was insightful. Sometimes it was brutally honest. Usually both.
People cared deeply about building something special together. And they did.
Now… I should also say that not every Riverside memory was inspirational.
Some of you may have heard stories of the Halloween assembly streaker incident. For those who haven’t, buckle up.
One year, during an October 31st school assembly, a streaker appeared and ran through the gym. And without really thinking this through, I chased him all the way out to Gates Park while dressed in a full Riddler costume.
To this day, I honestly do not know which one of us looked more alarming to the public.
But in many ways, that story captures Riverside perfectly. This was a school full of energy, unpredictability, joy, and people willing to jump in and help each other no matter what happened.
What Riverside taught me most was something bigger. It taught me how extraordinary public education really is.
Every single day, 1200 students and 100 staff members, supported by families who trusted this school with the thing they love most in the world, came together to create opportunity, belonging, care, and hope. To the parents in this room: that trust you place in schools like Riverside matters more than you know, and the staff here have always been worthy of it.
That is not ordinary. And sometimes I worry we forget how remarkable that actually is.
Nineteen years later, I still think about Riverside almost daily. The lessons I learned here still guide me as Superintendent in West Vancouver. And if I am being completely honest, even after all these years and all the schools I have worked with, Riverside still feels like home.
I was surrounded by so many wonderful people I learned from during my time here. There are far too many to name, but I want to acknowledge the admin partners who shaped both this school and me like: Bryan Evans, Michael Grice, Mary O’Neil, and Todd Clerkson. Their friendship and leadership meant everything.
So to the students sitting here tonight: I hope you understand something earlier than most of us do.
These might actually be the good old days.
Not because everything is perfect. Not because every moment is easy. But because you are surrounded by people building community together.
One day, years from now, you will remember teachers who believed in you, friends who carried you through hard times, and ordinary moments in hallways that somehow became unforgettable.
Trust me. Even the weird assembly stories stay with you.
Thank you to Riverside for shaping my life in ways I could never have understood at 27 years old. And thank you for this incredible honour.
The longer I work in education, the more convinced I become that schools are remembered less for their buildings and programs than for the people who fill them.
Walking back into Riverside reminded me that most of what matters in a career is not what you did but who you did it alongside. I was lucky to land in that community when I did, and luckier still to finally get the chance to say so properly.
Some chapters close faster than you would like. This one finally closed the way it should have.

What a lovely piece. You saved us, Chris. You created that home for all of us.
I couldn’t not make at least a passing reference to the Eddy! What a special part of the school. I miss school journalism.
Riverside was still a new school built with such different bricks that those first few years were a challenge until you came along, wise beyond your 27 years, and became the cement that bound us together. You created not just a school family but an environment that honoured innovation in education.
This is so generous. I am not sure I was all that wise at 27, but I was surrounded by people who were, and who were patient enough to let me figure things out alongside them. The innovation, the spirit, the family you are describing, that was already in the DNA of the place. What a wonderful time for me to be there.
Just an amazing honour, Chris. I always knew your decision to come to West Vancouver was a difficult one to make – and that part of your heart remained elsewhere. Still, you have made all the different in West Van Schools, too. Congratulations!
I just feel so lucky to have had amazing experiences in 3 different districts – as a teacher in Richmond, a school administrator in Coquitlam and as a district administrator in West Vancouver. I feel lucky to have worked with so many interesting people. You know I feel the same way about our times together in West Vancouver as those I wrote about in Coquitlam. I have lived through a lot of “good ol’ days.
Ah, I love this. Everything you shared feels so spot on! After four years as a student at Riverside and now closing in on twenty years working with students from many different schools and communities, something remarkable I have found is that I can almost always spot a Riversider, amidst all the other students, before they even tell me they are one. And my husband, who never went to Riverside, has picked up on that same special something and can now identify a Riverside student in our work just as easily as I can.
There just seems to be a certain kindness, sincerity, and intentionality among the students, teachers, and staff who have been touched by this community, and I will forever be grateful to have been surrounded by it during some of the most important years of my life.
Thank you, Mr. Kennedy, for all of your contributions to this special place for so, so many of us. And thank you for sharing the streaker story, as I had yet to hear that one!
The idea that you and your husband can spot a Riversider before they even say so, and that kindness, sincerity, and intentionality are the tells, that is about the most beautiful thing anyone could say about a school community. You have described something. Thank you for carrying that spirit into your own work with students. Riverside lives on in more places than people know. And glad (I think) I could bring the streaker story to a broader audience.
Chris, it was always clear that you were a star. I feel so fortunate to have had the chance to work together. In my brief return to Riverside as Principal I couldn’t stop telling the staff how unique and special Riverside still is. Those were indeed the good old days 🙂
Cheers,
Todd
Todd, seeing your name in the comments made my day. Working alongside you was a real privilege – and full of laughs most days! And I know how much your return to Riverside as principal meant to that community, even if the time was shorter than any of us would have wanted. The fact that you were still telling staff how special the place was says everything about who you are. These were indeed the good old days. Grateful for you.
Perfectly said , Chris. Riverside was/is a community of learning and growth for everyone.
Ron, coming from you that means a great deal. You were exactly the kind of quiet, steady presence that made Riverside what it was. The community you are describing was built by people like you showing up and doing the work with integrity every single day. Thank you for everything you gave that place.
Lovely words Chris. As the child of two educators I am keenly aware of the closeness of certain faculty teams and the memories of place. It was nice hear yours. Perhaps what stood out the most was you naming names – being personal. Thanks for sharing the stories and bringing those imprints to you work and leadership in West Vancouver. Cheers!
Thank you for this. You make a really good point about naming names. It is something I feel strongly about. General gratitude is easy. Saying out loud that specific people shaped you, and why, is the thing that actually honours them. Appreciate all our connections.