11/10/2025
Our hearts are heavy with the loss of such a caring, knowledgeable, and deeply committed teacher and learner.
While with us at Teachers College from 2009 to 2024, Sheridan served as Professor of Practice in Arts and Humanities and for many years as Director of the Program in English Education and the Teaching of English. Before coming to TC, he was Professor of English and Education (emeritus) at the University of California, Santa Barbara, where he taught for nearly forty years and directed the South Coast Writing Project and the Literature Institute for Teachers.
A former President of the National Council of Teachers of English (1997–98), Sheridan also served on the presidential team from 1995–2000 and received the NCTE Distinguished Service Award in 2007 for his leadership, teaching, and exemplary writing. His influential book, The Literature Workshop: Teaching Texts and Their Readers (Heinemann, 2003), received the Richard Meade Award for outstanding research in English education.
Our students reflect our collective sense of loss and gratitude. One writes, “Like everyone who had the chance to take classes with Sheridan, I’m endlessly grateful I had the chance to learn from him. I hope to carry and share his persistent curiosity and open-mindedness forever.” Another remembers: “Sheridan loved the classroom more than anybody—so impassioned and unafraid of the knotty nature of ideas and dialogue.” And many, each in their own way remind us of Sheridan’s commitment to students: “If I can make any of my students feel as smart and interesting as Sheridan made me feel, that will be the greatest testament to his legacy that I could offer.”
His partner captures Sheridan’s spirit best: “As you think of Sheridan, remember that reading Milton’s Paradise Lost will help you understand the dangers of consuming false knowledge; that teaching is the enemy of learning; and that embracing confusion leads to an advanced state of understanding. Interrupt often when you hear injustices and disagree loudly when your principles are offended. And always, write.”
His lessons remain with us—in the questions we keep asking, in the courage to enter confusion, and in the quiet joy of discovery that animated his every class. Sheridan taught us to think with others, to interrupt for justice, and to write our way toward understanding. His presence lingers in the rooms where learning still feels alive, generous, and unfinished. As Mary Oliver reminds us,
“To live in this world you must be able to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.”
