Brian “Maynard” Welsh, 51, of Hamilton Square died August 29. During his 30-year teaching career he taught social studies and coached the boys varsity soccer team at West Windsor-Plainsboro High School South.
A lifelong area resident, he was born in Trenton and graduated from Our Lady of Sorrows School; Steinert High School, Class of 1976; and Rider University, Class of 1980. He devoted a large part of his life to the game of soccer — including playing on teams in high school and college and coaching his children in recreational soccer. An active parishioner of St. Gregory the Great Roman Catholic Church, and a longtime member of the Hibernians, he cheered for his favorite team, the Oakland Raiders, often.
Survivors include his wife, Elizabeth Welsh; his children, Kelly, Ryan, Mollie, Kendall, and Shannon; his sisters and brothers-in-law, Kathy and Randy Hanenberg, and Alice and John Andres; his brother and sister-in-law, Kevin and Carol Welsh; his former wife and longtime friend, Anne C. Woodrick (mother of Kelly, Ryan, and Mollie); his nephews, Christopher, Kyle, Maxx, and Zack, and special aunts, Ruth McDowell and Ruth Burchell.
Former students told each other about his death through Facebook and it was only minutes before the news spread throughout the online community. New pages were set up, memorials were posted, and sharing stories and grieving were public. Plans were later made to dedicate the first day of school, Tuesday, September 7, to Welsh.
A scholarship fund for his younger children was created and shirts may be purchased at https://wwpsouthalumni.org for $20 to benefit the fund. Donations may be made to the Kendall, Shannon, and Mollie Welsh College Fund, c/o Wachovia Bank, 1177 Route 33, Hamilton Square 08690.
The WW-P school district has offered resources for students and parents through its website, ww-p.org. A memorial service held at St. Gregory the Great R.C. Church on Friday, September 3, was attended by a standing room crowd, including many students, alumni, and teachers from WW-P.
Speakers at the celebration of life included his brother, Kevin Welsh; his sister; Kathy Welsh; and his children, Kelly, Ryan, and Mollie Welsh. Other speakers include Libby Vinson, a student; Chris Sullivan, a player; Bryan Fisher, a colleague; and several friends. The back of the program showed the lyrics to Bruce Springsteen’s “Glory Days.”
To the Editor: Brian Welsh’s Gifts
In the outpouring of remembrance and thoughts present across the last few days in the connections between alumni of West Windsor-Plainsboro High School, it’s immediately possible to spot the nature of the impact left on our lives by the gifts of Brian Welsh. His personal energy in the classroom was unmatched; he taught with passion, unapologetic bombast, and vibrancy. I remember his fervent lessons on civil discourse and responsibility—but perhaps I remember even more how his teachings broke beyond the boundaries of his classroom—literally.
In my time at WWPHS, Mr. Welsh’s room was above “The Pit,” an open area that extended into several concourses and other open-classroom sections of the school. His voice would cascade throughout the entire wing of the school when he really got going. It almost felt as if it was by design; his ideas and vigor were too big to remain trapped within the standard confines of four walls, 20-some-odd desks and a door. And that’s how Mr. Welsh worked; if you were within earshot, he left his mark.
In the times in my adult life in which I’ve been lucky enough to teach, I’ve thought often of Mr. Welsh and the other teachers in my life like him. I think often about my own methods, and how there’s an occasional temptation towards teaching by rote, of opening up a standard lesson plan and releasing myself from the responsibility of individual connection.
It’s easy to get discouraged by disengaged students, or perceptions of an apathetic administration, or a thousand other hurdles that can mar the unique and rare talents and joys of being an educator. It’s much harder to tap into the parts of yourself that are more than just the purveyor of textbook knowledge and to continually use those parts to engage and unlock the gifts of your students. It’s much harder to tap into something that can be both grounded and inspirational, and yet still operate successfully within the confines of a classroom.
Mr. Welsh was one of the sterling examples at WW-P of a teacher who could do just that. His lessons echo within me and within the enormous number of other students he reached. He taught us, in no uncertain terms, that discourse was worth it. Civic responsibility and participation is worth it. Voting is always worth it. And that there’s a solid, unmovable value in both listening to and having the contrary opinion at times; in choosing our perspectives and taking a stand, we have a responsibility to both our voices and our ability to listen, and we owe it to ourselves to learn how and when to use those abilities best. His thoughts have stayed with me, 11 years later. And I know I’m not alone.
The image of him — voice raised, quick to laugh, face bright red, riling up a room-full of students — remains vivid and clear in my head. That’s the thing about the best teachers we encounter in our lives; we see them for their strengths, and what they can impart to us, and the parts of being human that are epic, and sturdy, and renewable, year after year, giving us wisdom one classroom period at a time. And that is noble and true, but it is not the whole story. And it is easy to forget that.There’s more to all of us, as people, and sometimes that becomes easy to forget, even as memories and lessons learned from our teachers become indelible parts of who we are. And when something like this happens, it’s both a horrific shock and a reminder that the people we idolize and encapsulate aren’t ever that far off from us.
I feel lucky to have known you, Mr. Welsh. Thank you for everything.
John Elliott
WW-P High School Class of 2000
South Spirit Lives
The WW-P community has been shaken up by the recent news of Brian Welsh’s death. To this community, Mr. Welsh was more than just a teacher, coach and colleague — he was a mentor. I cannot think of a single student Mr. Welsh hasn’t touched in some way or another. Upon hearing the news myself, I couldn’t help but think about the profound impact he had on my peers and me.
The students of South pride themselves on the unique spirit of the school’s student body. Mr. Welsh embodied this spirit and had the ability to change so many students’ lives as a result of this. He made a whole-hearted effort to know as many students as possible every year and provide them with a wealth of knowledge and support.
Mr. Welsh’s legacy at South truly shows what it means to be a successful teacher. He wasn’t just good at teaching — he was good at being a mentor and role model. He would light up a room with his presence, let alone his provocative lectures.
His bellowing voice from the mezzanine always made students smile, and the passion through which he taught is unforgettable. He was able to engage, entertain, motivate, and inspire students. Because of this, he is so fondly remembered, and now, so deeply missed.
He reached out to students — whether it was helping them with academics or personal issues. His incredible wisdom, optimism, and insight is what made him so radiant and allowed him to have the impact he has had on South. He had the unique ability to bring the best out of each and every one of his students. As a former student of South, I am proud to say many of the things I have learned about myself and growing up in the last few years have been a result of Mr. Welsh. For that, I am indebted.
All of the things I can say and have said about Mr. Welsh are things that every teacher and student at South feels — whether they had the opportunity to know him or not. He has been so much a part of my life and the lives of everyone who had the pleasure of knowing him.
While this is a tremendous loss to the community, the spirit of South that still lives on serves as a constant reminder of the extraordinary man who in many ways defined the school.
Tanya Chanda
HS South Class of 2008
Sparkle in the Eye
I was a new kid at WWPHS in 1981, and having Mr. Welsh as my seventh grade social studies teacher instantly made me feel like part of a community. He connected with us so powerfully (strange to now realize he was only 10 years older than we were). He was so funny, so sharp, so supportive, with a sparkle in his eye and a mischievous grin. And oh that curly blond hair!
He cheered my early attempts at “comedy” and that meant so much to me and always will. How lucky we were to have seventh through twelfth grade in the same building. Mr. Welsh was a constant force in our lives through those all-important teen years, whether as a teacher, coach, football announcer, mentor, or just a trusted friend in Commons 1.
Thank you for everything, Mr. Welsh. I will never forget you, and the WWPHS Class of 1987 will never forget you.
Jack Silbert
Class of 1987
Hoboken
Lessons Learned In & Out of Class
Brian Welsh was one of kind. I had him as a teacher and coach and he was my friend. He taught me life lessons on and off the field and in and out of the classroom. He had a huge impact on my life. I will always look back on the “Glory Days” and smile because man we sure had some fun. What a great man and he will be missed.
You’ve gotta hand it to the Welsh for coaching the Pirates the way he did not being able to pick his team and with odds stacked against him, he vowed no surrender. With a hungry heart and a reason to believe, he took the Pirates to the promised land. They’re tougher than the rest. Some might say they’re … born to run. All of WWP, a lucky town, looking back it’s nothing but Glory days, indeed.
Thank you for everything you have ever done for me Welsh.
Jonathan Hatcher
Princeton Junction
High School South Class Of 2003
To the Children:
While I never had the opportunity to meet any of you in person I felt compelled to write you a letter from my classroom here in New Delhi, India. My heart goes out to all of you. Your father’s spirit lives on in the lives of the countless people he has touched.
Like your father I’m a social studies teacher and I want all of you to know that your father touched the hearts and minds of so many students and he will be missed. He nurtured citizenship, leadership, and a sense of efficacy in me. You are in my prayers.
Meena Srinivasan
President, WWP Class of 1998
New Delhi, India
