The Passing of a Great Friend and Mentor: Dr. Jan Ramjerdi

Thoughts captured on Saturday, March 15, 2025

One of the things that made the end of January so tough was that I lost a really good friend, colleague, mentor, writing artist and creative: Dr. Jan Ramjerdi. I met Jan in May 2002 at the Atlantic Center for the Arts during an artist residency. We were all in the writing group with Master Artist and Poet Anne Waldman.

I remember my journey in just getting there – driving from Philadelphia to New Smyrna Beach, Florida (via Atlanta, GA). I was trying to figure out what my path was going to be, but I knew I wanted to write. I had written drafts of two different novels, so I was nervous and anxious and excited to embark on this journey. I arrived a day late, but when I got there, I was warmly welcomed by the writers’ group. Then, on that first night, we were talking about the work we were all engaged in. And Jan said, “Well, what's your novel about? Do you have a copy of it? Well, let me see it. I’d love to read it.” So, I gave Jan a copy of the novel that evening.

The next day, Jan came to me and said, “Todd, your novel is incredible. You're an incredible writer and you have that thing that good writers have!” Jan didn't know how important it was at that time for me to hear those words from her It really allowed me to understand the decision I made was the right one: to embark on a year-long cross-country trip, checking in to different artist colonies and writing residencies. Jan and I stayed in touch during my travels.

A year later, I started to adjunct at Queensborough Community College (CUNY), teaching a Basic Education Skills course in writing. One day I'm walking down the hall – I look, and then I say, “Jan?!?” She looks and says, “Todd?!?” So I immediately say, “Jan, how are you? What are you doing here?” Her response was, “I work here. What are you doing here?” And I say, “I work here too!!!” And so one of the most random of coincidences brought us back together. It was indeed a moment of synergy that somehow brought us into the same English department at Queensborough Community College.

Jan was always around, and she was just a really good colleague, but an even greater friend. While we were at QCC together, Jan helped me to reimagine what teaching could look like. She also helped me to reimagine what writing could look like. She helped to navigate me through one of the most difficult moments in the publishing process for my first book, tor’cha. Jan made sure my book project didn't get scrapped or shelved because of creative differences with the initial publishing press. Instead, she helped to usher me to one of her friends who was running a small press by the name of Swank Books. And the rest is history for my first interactive novel, tor’cha. Jan and I always stayed in touch, and always communicated.

Over the past few years, Jan had a tough time with some environmental health issues, which caused her to not really be able to be stationary in the same place. But when I reconnected with Jan just this past summer (Summer 2024), I was happy to hear that she had just bought a house on Prudence Island in Rhode Island. She was really excited and really happy. She said to me – in typical Jan fashion – “Todd, come to Prudence!” And I said, “Okay, let me figure it out.” And thankfully, we were able to figure out making a family road trip up to Rhode Island to go see Jan. It was really great to see her. I hadn't seen her in a few years, but it felt like I had seen her yesterday. It was fantastic to be in her presence, just having fun and thoughtful conversations again. She got a chance to meet my daughters and see my wife again. I was able to give her a copy of "K for the Way," and she was ecstatic to see my new book in print. She marveled at the cover and the production quality – all things that Jan was always in tune with when it came to books. It was also good to know that she was finally settling in and getting stationary in one place.

When I was on my way up to Boston to receive the Russell Award at NCTE in November, I was texting with Jan. Of course, her first message to me: “Todd! Come to Prudence!” And I was like, “Jan, I can't make it this time because of the conference.” But on my drive back home from Boston, we did get to have a long phone call. And I knew I was going to reach out to Jan when I was up at Saint George's – it was a no brainer! The ferry to Prudence Island is about 30 minutes away from St George's. And while the Prudence Island Ferry does makes for strategic scheduling, I was definitely going to work it out to be able to see Jan, especially given the fact that I’d be so close. But before I could start getting that underway, I got a message from Jan's son, Sean, saying that Jan wasn’t doing well health-wise. I immediately called him and while we were speaking, I said, “Sean, I'm going to be in Rhode Island next week. Do you think I need to go and see Jan now, or can it wait till I get up there?” I think Sean and everyone else thought it could wait until I got up there.

I arrived at St. George’s on Thursday, and planned to go see Jan on Saturday, after the Dent lecture on Thursday and the other obligations I had on Friday. Unfortunately, I got word that Jan passed away early Friday morning. It was really hard and such a tough moment. Jan has been such an important part of my writing life, and she's also been such an important part of my teaching life. Jan would always tell me, “You know, Todd, you're incredible! You're gonna have a tough time in the academy, though, because the academy loves status quo, and you are so far from status quo. But it’s that distance from status quo that makes you the extraordinary human being that you are. But just knowing academia, it will always be hard because they won't understand you.”

That advice was so genuine, and some of the truest words anyone has ever told me as I embarked on my tenure track position in academia. As tough as this loss was, I was really thankful that Jan’s family was able to schedule her ceremonies on Sunday; so I stayed up in Newport for an extra day, and then woke up early Sunday morning, and headed over to Bristol to catch the Prudence Island Ferry to be there for Jan’s services. Jan's sister asked me if I would be willing to speak and give Jan’s eulogy – of course, I said yes. The joke I shared was, “what’s the alternative – I say no and Jan comes and visits me in a special way?!?” All jokes aside, though, it was an absolute privilege and honor just to be able to speak and reminisce about my friend.

Jan was really a superhero. She lived a fantastic life. She lived every day to the fullest and she lived with no worries at all, and no regrets. Like all of us, Jan lived with her own human imperfections, but that didn’t stop Jan from being an extraordinary teacher and an incredible writer. She was someone who lifted people up in phenomenal ways, and there aren't too many people in the world who spend their time lifting people up.

So I wanted to take a second in the middle of what my January and February run was because, to a certain extent, I would not be able to even have a run, if not for the ways that Jan intervened in my life – on numerous times and numerous occasions, in numerous settings and moments where she made all the difference in the world. From supporting my humanity, to bailing me out, and all sorts of other fun and not-so-fun adventures. I'm really appreciative for Jan and who she was in my life. So I just wanted to take a minute to stop and capture these thoughts about my friend. But most important, I wanted to take a moment to say thank you to my good friend, Jan Ramjerdi. You will truly be missed. And while you're gone, I know you're still right here.