Marvin "Pete" Hokom

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September 9, 2020 · via iPhone

Thanks to Mr. Hokum, and his classes at Mt. Eden, I came to love math. His humor and love of teaching made every class enjoyable (even the tests!). I’ve been able to spread the love of math to my own children as well. Knowledge is power! Rest in Power!

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March 11, 2020

Mr. Hokom was my math teacher at Mt. Eden and I will never forget him. He made me like math and he was so kind and funny and it was clear he cared so much about his students. He was my favorite math teacher and probably even my favorite teacher at Mt.... more

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June 22, 2019

I think I’ve been putting off writing down my thoughts about my Great Uncle Pete (always called simply Uncle Pete) because I haven't wanted to accept that he's not here anymore. And yet one of the things I respected most about Uncle Pete was how open... moreI think I’ve been putting off writing down my thoughts about my Great Uncle Pete (always called simply Uncle Pete) because I haven't wanted to accept that he's not here anymore. And yet one of the things I respected most about Uncle Pete was how open he was. Whether something was pleasant or painful, he was always willing to talk to me about it. And thats how I want to be. So here goes.

I learned so much from Uncle Pete. I quite literally learned Algebra from him. When I was 13, I hated Algebra, and I was struggling. Uncle Pete was able to teach me not only how to solve the problems, but the methodology and concept behind why they should be solved. I cant put Algebra into words the way he could, so I won’t try, but to learn that there was reason behind it all, a history, a purpose besides torturing teenagers, was eye opening.

Although we were always friendly, I didn't become close to Uncle Pete until I went to college. Berkeley was close enough to Newark, and I would have dinners with Pete and Dena every month or so. These dinners were unlike any others that I had previously experienced. They were massive in scope. They’d take hours. They felt European. There was time for drinks, time for snacks, time for dinner, time for dessert, then maybe some cheese, more drinks, perhaps a couple changes of venue between the dinner table, the living room and the sitting room at the front of the house. Maybe some records would be played. Jazz or country or something good. And the whole time, the house would be filled with conversation. Dena knew how to talk (God, she was good at it) and so did Pete. They chatted about anything and everything. And it was all interesting. And they were interested. In me, my studies, my thoughts, my plans. Everything.

When they found out I was taking an acting class in college, they took it upon themselves to invite me to plays. Pete and Dena were long time subscribers at Berkeley Rep and made sure to procure me an extra seat any chance they could. I had never really seen legitimate theatre. My mother was a huge supporter of the arts, but growing up in Stockton didn't lend itself to seeing ground-breaking, cutting-edge theatre. (No offense to my amazing brother David and his 5th grade star turn in The Stockton Civic Theatre’s production of The Pirates of Penzance!) Of the plays they took me to, three come to mind. One was called Tragedy: A Tragedy, which was a comedy about the world ending. One was a one man show about Brooklyn in which Danny Hoch inhabited about 20 different characters. But the one that was so profoundly impactful, the one that I credit the pursuit of a career in the theatre, was Joe Turner’s Come and Gone by Uncle Petes all-time favorite playwright, August Wilson. Before the play Pete taught me about Wilson, how he wrote a 10 play cycle, each set in a different decade and all of them about being black in America. Most take place in Pittsburgh. They are funny, tragic, poetic, beautiful plays. Plays with depth and meaning. Plays whose suspense keeps you on the edge of your seat. Plays that feed the soul.

The production of Joe Turner’s Come and Gone was probably the best play I’ve ever seen. It is certainly the most impactful. It was a play about characters that didn't look like me or talk like me. It was set in the 1911. And yet, everything about it was utterly human and relateable. The whole play felt like a religious experience. The final lines were uttered, “You shining like new money.” The lights faded to black, the audience took a collective inhale, and the applause began. Before we could get out of our seats to give a well deserved standing ovation, Uncle Pete leaned over to me, looked me in the eye and asked simply “Isn’t theatre wonderful?” Its a moment I”ll never forget. And a moment that has had an immeasurable impact on my life.

When I started acting in plays around the Bay Area, Pete and Dena were there supporting me. When I was doing a play in San Francisco but living in Stockton and needed a place to stay, Pete and Dena opened their home to me. When my mom got sick, they were people I could count on. I could talk to them, be comforted and fed by them, be quiet and sad with them. When I needed some part-time work, they paid me to paint the interior of their house for a summer. And of course that led to many more lengthy and wonderful dinners. Its time that I absolutely cherish.

When I moved away to grad school Uncle Pete and I kept in fairly good touch through email every month or two. When Dena passed, I was so taken back by how open and honest he was about his sadness. He didn't sugar coat anything. He loved her so fully and was heart broken by her loss. I respected his honesty and his vulnerability.

After moving to New York, Uncle Pete and I had a new tradition every time I’d visit California. I would book the red eye flight for my return to New York and set aside time on the last day of my trip to stop into Newark. I’d get to his house around 4pm. We’d chat, have dinner, and then proceed to drink Manhattans and laugh and solve the worlds problems until I reluctantly took an Uber to SFO around 9:30. We got really drunk and really merry and just really enjoyed each other. We had three of these pre flight catch up sessions, each one more fun than the last.

There’s a lot more that Uncle Pete taught me about: Chimay Beer, Johnny Hodges, Ella Fitzgerald, Gruner Veltliner, Sloppy Joes, Hog Island Oysters, The New Yorker Magazine, the great Russian novelists, existentialism, spicy Thai Food, how to skunk-proof a backyard deck, the list goes on. But I think the thing I learned most about Uncle Pete was how to value a relationship. I know I had a special relationship with him and I know so many other people did as well. And those other relationships had there own traditions and focal points that were crafted and nurtured because Uncle Pete valued them. He loved people, loved what made them different and unique, and loved engaging them in a meaningful way. He taught people, he listened to people, he inspired people.

There’s a lot I’ll miss about Uncle Pete. I’m not quite ready to say goodbye. So instead I’ll take a page out of his book, raise a glass, and say “Prost!”, “Skol!” “And Here’s Mud In Your Eye!” less

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Shannan Dugan What a beautiful tribute. I loved learning more about your uncle beyond whatl he did for the students at Mt. Eden and our relationship there with him.
- March 11, 2020

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June 21, 2019

Below are some comments from former students:

Mr. Marvin Hokom was an amazing person and teacher. It is a testament to what a great person and teacher he was that many of his former students, from his 40+ years of teaching, kept in touch with him. I've... more

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June 17, 2019 · via iPhone

A wonderfully humble teacher, mentor, friend to hundreds of us throughout his career. I will miss my colleague from across the hall at MEHS.

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Amy Donnellan He mentioned recently how happy he was to run into you at the BART station! Thank you for your comment!
- June 21, 2019