From your Students
Luc Groshens, 1ère S3:
It was an honour to know Mr Fiehler, and a privilege to have him as a teacher. I had the chance to talk to him personally and to some extent intimately. He shared a piece of life with me, from his life in Korea, to his favorite hockey team: the Pittsburgh Penguins. That was the honour. He was also a caring and passionate teacher, always going out of his way to help us. That was the privilege.
Julie Vesval, 1ère L:
I most sincerely think that Mr Fiehler is one of those teachers I will never forget. Fun, creative and caring, he taught the one class I really loved going to just because I knew I wouldn’t ever get bored of it. He will be dearly missed.
Marguerite Metral, 1ère ES
I never had the chance to have Mr Fiehler as a teacher. As a student in FIS I walk by him in the corridors every day. He was a handsome and young teacher, he always had a smile on his face. Hence this tragedy was not predictable.
Anna de Courcy-Ireland, 1ère S
Dear "Plethora-of-Requirements-Burdened Students", Dear "Prolific Pupils", Dear "Potent Pupils"... Dear Passionate Mr Fiehler, your smile, your knowledge, and your care will be missed. Mr Fiehler, we will miss you, and forever cherish you.
Marie Chum, Terminale L
I had Mr Fiehler as a teacher for a year, and he was one of my favorites. After that, whenever I came across him in the halls, I would wave and say hi with the biggest smile, and he would answer with a sweet and slightly embarrassed manner. After a while, he began to wave first because he knew I would act like a puppy the moment I saw him. It made me so happy !
Elliot Subtil, Terminale ES
The only teacher on earth to find amazingly suitable and various names to qualify his Pupils. Mr. Fiehler wasn’t a great teacher at all, he was an amazing teacher with a kind personality and an open smile that invited his students to participate and progress in his classes. No man could teach “The Scarlet Letter” better than him. He will be more than missed for we have lost a precious member of our OIB family. My condolences to his family. Stay strong.
Logan de Raspide-Ross, 1ere S
The first time I met Mr. Fiehler was during my Brevet OIB Oral Exam. I’d come up with a problematique that read as follows “How is love presented in dystopian visions of the future?” I recall him looking eager as I told him my problematique, and his excitement over the topic was obviously abundant. Towards the end of my presentation, he was completing my sentences at the same time as I was. From his half shy, half wide and sincere smile, I could tell he’d enjoyed my presentation. We then talked for over 15 minutes about these dystopian concepts and books until he checked the time, and alarmed told me the next student was supposed to be passing. He then hurriedly finished the conversation by giving me a book he loved that he thought I should read. He smiled and told me it’d been a pleasure to meet me. That was 2 years ago.
Lucy Cotillon, Terminale ES
Mr Fiehler had one of those rare and kind faces that immediately filled you with a sense of reassurance and trust. He would never pass you in the corridor without sending a friendly smile or greeting your way. I had always noticed the tenderness in his optimistic, hopeful eyes, as if they searched for the best in you as you spoke to him. I now realise that they had also been tinted with a trace of sadness.
Mr Fiehler was always immaculately dressed, with that little grey rucksack he wore on both shoulders, and a water bottle in his hand. I imagine him walking through the corridors looking a bit lost and confused, as if he knew he was supposed to be somewhere but didn’t know where exactly. As curious and possibly intrusive students we had jokingly speculated at his private life - we imagined that he was in a relationship with a Russian model with high cheekbones called Svetlana, or that he went to see his personal trainer in Sheung Wan on Thursdays. As a class who’s crazy about our OIB teachers, we had always tried to find out as much as we could about them. But Mr Fiehler was always so discreet, so private, and he had almost become something of a mystery to us. I remember one time on a rooftop in Happy Valley some time last year, Zoe and I were peering at the people in their living rooms in the tall buildings that surrounded us. We watched them as they lived their personal, individual lives, unaware of the fact that they were being contemplated by two pairs of invasive eyes. We were the artful voyeurs. And we had imagined our teacher Paul Fiehler, watching television in his clean, orderly apartment on that Saturday night. I had thought that he had a perfect life, since I knew so little about it. I now realise that I could not have been more wrong.
I’m sorry for all the signs we missed. I’m sorry for misjudging you. I’m sorry for never thanking you for everything you had taught me. I hope you know how grateful I am - now that it is too late.
You will be missed.
Rest in peace.