Austin Poole, principal of Epiphany School in Culpeper, will retire at the end of the school year.
Until the last day of classes June 9, Principal Poole’s duties rarely will fall into a traditional eight-hour work routine.
“The role has developed over the years to being 24-7,” Poole said. “I used to get e-mails at midnight. I’ll never forget one dad at the end said, ‘Enjoy the rest of your night.’ And I’d been in bed for two hours,” laughed Poole. “I’ve got to be up at 5; I can’t be up at midnight to be happy and smiling and patient the next day.”
During his 38-year career, Poole spent 31 years in school administration; 28 in the Arlington diocese. He met his future wife, Liz — also an educator — at the University of Kent in Canterbury, England, from which both graduated in 1982.
In 1984 — after the couple taught summer camps at Linton Hall in Bristow — the Benedictine sisters invited both to work there. Poole served as Linton Hall teacher, dormitory prefect and admissions director (1984-86 and 1987-92). Liz, principal for 15 years, is now director of alumni and community relations.
Before becoming principal of Epiphany in 2017, Poole was principal of St. Ann School in Arlington (1992-95); admissions director at Highland School in Warrenton (1995-98); and principal of Our Lady of Good Counsel Catholic School in Vienna (1998-2017).
The couple are parishioners of St. John the Evangelist Church in Warrenton.
Poole said retirement leaves him with “mixed emotions. I’ve enjoyed tremendously working with students and their families in Catholic schools.”
Complete retirement, however, isn’t in his energetic nature. “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” he said. “I’m looking at something perhaps with less hours and a little less stress, if I can find it.”
Epiphany draws most of its 193 students from families at Culpeper’s Precious Blood Church.
“We are grateful for everything Austin has done that has helped the school,” said Father Kevin B. Walsh, pastor.
A transplanted Brit, Poole’s accent retains the charm of his birthplace, Melton Mowbray, a picture-perfect English town about 20 miles from Nottingham. Still, his relatives can detect a difference.
“After a year or two, I’d go back to England and my nephews and nieces would tease me about how American I sounded,” he said.
So, it must be asked: Did he watch the Coronation of King Charles III? Poole sheepishly admits that — nothing against the monarchy — he did not. There were Premier League matches on; Poole was a semi-professional soccer player before coming to America.
Poole has an engaging, easy-going attitude in a job filled with unexpected surprises. He was once alerted that the girls bathroom was flooded. Students gathered to watch as Poole gamely strode in to determine the cause. Emerging with his shoes soaked but a leak located, a kindergartner had some practical advice for her principal: “Mr. Poole, may I suggest that if you need to use the restroom, you use the boys?” Poole laughs at the memory. The tiny scholar wasn’t being a smart-aleck, he said, she was just making a sensible recommendation.
“It’s all about relationships,” Poole said. “If I can build relationships with the students, then I find that I can be a more effective teacher, and they oftentimes will want to participate more and put in their best efforts.” Poole has seen his students form lifelong friendships and mentor one another.
Faith, too, has an essential role.
“Being a principal of a Catholic school really allows you to share your faith,” Poole explained. His habit has been to speak to assembled students after Friday Mass, imparting thoughts and stories. Fidgeting students sometimes made him doubt his impact. But then a friend who teaches religion at Bishop O’Connell High School in Arlington shared something.
“He showed me a few of the journals of former St. Ann students who basically said, ‘Mr. Poole spoke about this after Mass last year,’ ” Poole recalled. “So, then you start thinking, well, perhaps something is getting through, and they do pay attention.”
Heatherington is a freelancer in Alexandria.
