Skip to content
Link copied to clipboard

This Philly elementary school unexpectedly lost a cherished teacher last summer. Now, her memory lives on.

Denise Jordan, 53, died just before the 2023-24 school year. Her colleagues at Barry Elementary in West Philly have dedicated a mural to her.

Asuncion Walters looks at the mural of her sister, Denise Jordan, a longtime kindergarten teacher at John Barry Elementary School in West Philadelphia during a kindergarten mural dedication and ceremony on Thursday.  Jordan died suddenly at age 53 last summer.
Asuncion Walters looks at the mural of her sister, Denise Jordan, a longtime kindergarten teacher at John Barry Elementary School in West Philadelphia during a kindergarten mural dedication and ceremony on Thursday. Jordan died suddenly at age 53 last summer.Read moreYong Kim / Staff Photographer

Room 105 at Barry Elementary sat empty for a whole year.

The space was bright and colorful, but assistant principal Jalyssa Barber insisted no one could use it. It had been the longtime space of Denise Jordan, a longtime kindergarten teacher who died unexpectedly in August 2023, stunning the school community. She was 53.

To keep Jordan’s memory alive for years to come, school leaders unveiled a mural painted in her honor last week as parents, teachers and Jordan’s family looked on.

Pass by Barry’s main office and you can’t miss it — smiling students, butterflies, with Jordan at the center against a blue backdrop. “In honor of Denise Jordan,” it reads. Outside Jordan’s classroom is a plaque honoring her, and the hallway is now called “Jordan’s Way.”

That her sister is forever memorialized at Barry brings Asuncion Walters both comfort and joy.

Jordan loved butterflies, cheetah print, and all things purple. She was particular about using only yellow Dial soap. She gave great advice, loved to teach her students the fundamentals of reading, and loved to watch shows in other languages. When the two sisters would go shopping, Jordan was always on the lookout for something for her classroom or her pupils, Walters said.

Students cried when they left her room, and came back often to visit.

“She was dynamic. She loved education; she loved her students — she called them her babies,” said Walters, motioning to the mural. “This is just such a beautiful, beautiful gesture.”

Barber was especially close to Jordan. The first time Barber ran into Jordan, Jordan didn’t know the younger woman was her assistant principal. She just saw someone in need of a little love and reached out.

“She said, ‘Are you hungry?’ and she handed me some almonds and cranberries,” said Barber.

Jordan taught at Barry for 15 years after a career in business. She just made people want to be around her, Barber said.

“If people couldn’t find me, they’d know I was in Room 105,” said Barber. “It was just a place to reset.”

Jordan encouraged Barber to join an aspiring principals program. She kept cans of soda in her refrigerator for days when Barber had a migraine and needed some caffeine.

They talked a few weeks before Jordan’s death. Barber knew Jordan was struggling with her diabetes, but Jordan rallied to give Barber a pep talk.

“She said, ‘Baby girl, you’re going to have a good school year. I’m proud of you. I’ll see you later,’” Barber remembers. “I told her, ‘Ms. Jordan, I love you.’”

Carmela Johnson-Brown was Jordan’s grade partner for years; they formed a bond based not just on being kindergarten teachers together, but also on mutual respect and admiration.

“Jordan and I always worked late together,” said Johnson-Brown. “She mentored my own children.”

Kimmora Gordon is now 14, a freshman at Motivation High School in West Philadelphia. But she still vividly remembers her kindergarten year, made magical by her favorite teacher: Ms. Jordan.

Even after she left Jordan’s classroom, Gordon said, she’d stop by Room 105 — when she was having a hard day, or when she just wanted some encouragement.

Jordan dispensed love, but “she did not play,” said Gordon. She expected a lot from her students, but “she was a safe space for me. She was always there when I needed her. She would always listen.”

On the last day of the 2022-23 school year, Gordon’s seventh-grade year, she saw Jordan as she was about to leave school. It was raining, and Jordan didn’t want Gordon to get wet, so she insisted her former student take her own umbrella. That was classic Jordan, Gordon said: thinking of others first.

“I can’t use that umbrella now,” Gordon said. “I miss her so much.”