Walking into Room 222 at THS, you might notice the beehive tucked into the corner or the miniature mushrooms huddled on the edges of a desk. Maybe there’s a half-finished crossword on the board, or a student passionately arguing about The Scarlet Letter while someone else is trying to perfect their thesis using the famous “Whitehead Formula.” Whatever it is, the room always feels alive. And at the center of it all is Mr. Gary Whitehead, the English teacher whose retirement this year marks the end of an extraordinary 29-year career at THS.
For many of us, Whitehead has been a mentor, a literary guide, a trailblazer, and—whether he’d admit it or not—a co-conspirator in whimsical adventures that go well beyond the yellow-brick classroom walls. Students leave his class not only as stronger writers, but as more thoughtful, curious people (and, occasionally, better crossword solvers, we’d assume).
“I didn’t dream of becoming a teacher when I was young, but I always loved my teachers,” Whitehead said. “To me, they seemed wonderfully human, and even in their fallibility, there were lessons to glean.”

He recalled one particular figure who left an indelible mark: his high school English teacher, Mr. Butlin. With thick glasses, a comb-over, and tweed jackets, Butlin was, in Whitehead’s words, “a marvel.” Along with his father, who was also a teacher, Butlin became one of the figures who shaped Whitehead’s path.
“If I became an English teacher because I loved to read and write, it was also because I wanted to be like those two men,” Whitehead said.
That same admiration has since come full circle. Over nearly three decades, Whitehead has become that figure for countless students at Tenafly.
In the classroom, Whitehead isn’t afraid to digress and share his hobbies with his students, whether it be discussing mushroom foraging, recommending a favorite restaurant (Okinami, for those wondering), or working through a New York Times crossword puzzle with his class. As a result of Whitehead’s communicative personality, every interaction in Room 222 is a learning experience for both the student and the teacher.
“After 29 years of teaching, it’s become abundantly clear to me that my students have much to impart, whether it’s the features of the latest iOS, the sublimity of Taylor Swift, the hazards of social media, or new ways of thinking about Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God,” Whitehead said.
The mutual exchange—teacher learning from student as much as student learning from teacher—is what has made Whitehead’s classroom distinct. Whitehead’s classroom has always been built on a philosophy of curiosity and openness. Literature, in his class, has never been confined to the pages of a book but rather serves as a way to recognize patterns beyond it—how humans feel, think, and find value in everyday life. Whitehead has applied that same philosophy to countless facets of his life outside the classroom, whether that is through his love for mushroom foraging, pickleball, or even a Pilates workout.
Beyond the classroom, his influence has extended throughout the wider Tenafly community. As the longtime advisor of The Echo (which, yes, you are currently reading) and, earlier in his career, Omega, Whitehead has helped students discover how writing can be more than just a school assignment. It could be a creative outlet, a way for students to express themselves and find their own voices.
He has also helped share the belief that literature should extend beyond the classroom walls. When recalling some of his most memorable moments at THS, Whitehead mentioned organizing a trip for his AP Lang class to see To Kill a Mockingbird on Broadway, where actor and THS alumnus Ed Harris later joined students for a talkback session. It’s the kind of thing that sounds unreal until you realize—it’s also very on brand for Whitehead.

Of course, not all of his stories come from planned trips. Some are born from spontaneity. Like the time he ended up on Cash Cab. When a colleague returned from a New York field trip, buzzing about a mysterious “new TV show” looking for participants, Whitehead already knew. He’d heard his students talk about Cash Cab for weeks, googled the casting director on the spot, and simply winked at his colleagues as Ben Bailey’s cab pulled up. That instinct—connecting the dots before anyone else, staying one step ahead—is exactly what made him such a remarkable teacher. It’s the same instinct that pushed him into teaching in the first place.
That same instinct led him to Tenafly in the first place. Whitehead describes his arrival at teaching at Tenafly as almost accidental and a result of “colossal good luck.” Back in the spring of 1997, tired of drudging with work for dental and medical magazines at a publishing company in Ramsey, armed with a teaching certificate and little direction, Whitehead sent out letters to local high schools from a phone book. When Tenafly offered him a full-time position, he gladly accepted the offer because it was “full pay,” and he has never left since.
“I had no idea what I was doing,” Whitehead said, looking back on his early years.
The panic attacks were real, but the anxiety gave way to something rare: a teacher who didn’t just explain literature but made you feel it, who didn’t just assign writing but made you want to be better at it. Over time, the uncertainty turned into confidence. He realized he had a knack for teaching—and more importantly, that he genuinely loved it.
And we’re all kind of glad he stuck with it. What first began as a pragmatic decision has become a defining career for Whitehead, marked by his relentless guidance for students, teachers, and fellow journalists at Tenafly.
Over the years, Room 222 has become a space filled with personality and history. It is filled with memorabilia and little gifts from students over the years. From a cookie tote of an old student’s creation to a crochet Scarlet A hanging on his wall, and the collection of Homies who have a birds-eye view of the class, you can tell the effort he has put into getting to know everyone who walks through his door.
His wise and humble attitude has shaped us and thousands of others into students we aspired to be. In Journalism, he taught us to be open and honest in our writing, and in AP Lang, he pushed us to notice the little details. While those who take AP Lang or Journalism in the future will not be able to experience Whitehead’s teachings, his lessons at Tenafly will be carried out well beyond his retirement.
As he prepares for retirement, Whitehead is looking forward to something unfamiliar: time. Time to read, write, travel, and simply enjoy the quieter moments that have long been overshadowed by grading and lesson planning. This summer, he will attend a writing residency in Vermont, followed by a cruise to Alaska. His fifth book of poetry, Seeing Double, has been published this month, and Whitehead hopes to do a reading of it at the Tenafly Public Library this fall.
Still, stepping away won’t be easy.
“I’ll miss the students and my colleagues the most,” Whitehead said. “THS has been such an integral part of my identity for almost thirty years.”
And for the THS community, the feeling is mutual. There are teachers who deliver a curriculum, and then there are teachers who change the way you think entirely. Whitehead was always the latter. What made Room 222 different wasn’t the beehive in the corner or the mushrooms on the desk—it was him. Even today, his curiosity still remains contagious, and his belief in his students remains unwavering. He heads into retirement having shaped far more than writers. He shaped thinkers, leaving an impact that those who sat in his classroom will carry with them for the rest of their lives.
THS will miss you, Mr. Whitehead. All the best.




























































































































































