Remembering ‘Pogo’: A teacher’s influence beyond the classroom

Editor’s note: This article, written by Maggie Jay, pays tribute to Jon Pogatchnik, a longtime educator in Eden Prairie, who died on Dec. 4. As one of his former students, Jay reflects on the profound impact Pogatchnik had on her life and career.

I first met Jon Pogatchnik when I was 12, trying my hand at the Central Middle School cross-country team for the first time. I was terrible. I hated running. Luckily, “Pogo,” as he was known, didn’t care if I came in first place or last place. He cared about the effort and dedication put into the sport, and even though mine was minimal, he held me to a high standard, encouraged me, and ultimately made me a better athlete. 

I did not know this then, but his ability to push you, make you think, and make you care would have a massive impact on the rest of my personal and professional life. 

When I was a sophomore at Eden Prairie High School, I signed up to take Advanced Placement United States History (APUSH). I was a nervous overachiever who was terrified of failure. APUSH had a reputation for being one of the hardest AP classes in the school, and I found that it very much lived up to the reputation. After one quarter, I was switched into Pogo’s classroom, where I would remain for the following semester. I joined his class in the fall of 2015, almost a year after his son, Jack, had tragically passed away. I remember his class being the hardest academic experience of my life up until that point. I spent hours pouring over Eric Foner’s “Give Me Liberty!,” making online flashcards, and answering document-based questions about political cartoons of Andrew Jackson. 

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Somewhere, through all of the stress of achievement, Pogo taught me how to learn. He made people who had died centuries before feel real and tangible in the classroom. He connected the past and the present and taught us just how invaluable history is. For the first time in my life, I practiced academic critical thinking and civic engagement. Every day in his class, Pogo encouraged and inspired me to go beyond grades into meaningful understanding, empathetic discussion, and effective compromise. He managed to take a student who was fixated on achievement and transform her into a student who cared deeply about learning. Believe me, that is no easy feat. 

I’m writing this today in my own history classroom in Orting, Washington. In the summer of 2017 Pogo wrote me a recommendation letter for my application to the University of Wisconsin-Madison, which I graduated from in 2021 with a degree in history. In 2022 I wrote a personal statement about my experience in his class and I was accepted into UW’s master’s program for curriculum and instruction. Almost two years later, I’m typing this on my lunch break as I wait for my own U.S. history students to arrive for fourth period. I can say with 100% certainty that my dreams, both their conception and achievement, were a result of the semester I spent in Pogo’s room, learning not only how to be a historian, but how to be a person. 

Throughout the semester, Pogo would occasionally talk about his son, Jack. Through tears, he would recall how empathetic, intelligent, funny, and hard-working Jack was. I always cherished when Pogo would talk about his son. His vulnerability was an enormous act of courage and strength that touched and inspired even the most burnt-out and history-averse students in the room.

On the last day of APUSH, Pogo announced that he would be giving the “Jack Pogatchnik Award” to two students who consistently demonstrated qualities that Jack had in spades. I will never forget hearing him say my name somewhere in the mix. I sat at my desk for long enough that he jokingly said, “Get up here, you!” I tearfully accepted the award from him and tried, for the first of what would become many times, to explain how much that moment meant to me. As a child who constantly thought that I was never enough, Pogo’s faith in me quite literally transformed the trajectory of my life. When I think of Pogo now, I think of the 16-year-old girl who was in absolute disbelief that someone as amazing as Jon Pogatchnik thought I was worth investing in. 

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It’s rare that people can pinpoint the exact moment or the exact person that transformed their life, but I know that my moment is June 10, 2016, and my person is Jon Pogatchnik. He invested in me, encouraged me, and believed in me even when I did not believe in myself. That’s more than a good teacher, that’s an amazing human being, and that’s what Pogo was, every second I had the privilege of knowing him. 

I had the fortunate coincidence to run into Pogo one of the last times I was in Minnesota. I was sitting at Excelsior Brewing Company with my mom when I saw him out of the corner of my eye. I stood up to say hi to him, not sure if he would remember me from a semester of history nearly eight years prior. Pogo made eye contact with me, threw his arms out, and shouted, “Maggie Jay!” with zero hesitation. We caught up for the next 10 minutes. I told him about my job offer to teach history across the country. He told me about his new job delivering flowers. We talked and laughed and hugged. I will never forget those 10 minutes – trying once again to communicate my thanks and appreciation for a man who did so much for me. I don’t know if I was successful, but what I do know is that I will spend the rest of my career trying to be half of what Pogo was to me. 

There are hundreds of people who have stories exactly like mine. Students, friends, colleagues, and family whose lives Pogo impacted in indescribable ways. I don’t know if it’s possible to capture his legacy and impact in just a few words, but I do know that he will live on in the hearts and minds of the people who loved him, and the people who learned from him.

I know that the day after he passed, I put the picture of me accepting that award from him on my class slides and told a new generation of students about Jon Pogatchnik, a person unlike anyone else I have ever known. I do know that he will never be forgotten, that the world is infinitely emptier without him and that all of us are better for the moments that we spent with Pogo. 

All my love forever.

About the writer: Maggie Jay graduated from EPHS in 2018. She attended the University of Wisconsin-Madison for the following five years, earning undergraduate degrees in history and English, along with a master’s degree in curriculum and instruction. She now teaches high school history and civics in Orting, Washington.