‘If people didn’t know her, they lost out.’ Friends remember a Manatee schools leader

Shirin Gibson was known for her trademark smile and contagious energy.

On paper, she was an executive director for Manatee County schools. But to many in the community, Gibson — or Cookie, as friends called her — was a trusted helper and friend.

Coworkers and local families were shaken by the news of Gibson’s sudden passing on Dec. 12. She died from cardiac arrest at 47 years old, leaving behind a trove of stories and lives that were made better by her presence.

“She always used to wear red lipstick,” said Dominique Prater, one of Gibson’s former students. “That always stuck out to me. She loved her red lipstick and I thought she was so pretty. I used to tell everyone.”

Gibson joined the School District of Manatee County as a teacher’s aide in 1996. She went on to become a teacher from 1997 to 2007, followed by 10 years as an assistant principal and a principal at different schools. Her last three years were spent as a district-level administrator.

Prater knew her as the leader of Tillman Elementary School about 10 years ago. Now 19 years old, Prater said she was a troubled student who made frequent visits to Gibson’s office.

Instead of scolding and dismissing students, she would start a conversation. Students and families said Gibson truly wanted to understand the issues and to find a solution.

“Before she took initiative, writing me up or suspending me, she always talked to me to understand why I did it,” Prater said.

“It was never too aggressive,” she continued. “It was always, you know, ‘I’m coming to you as a person.’ It was never, ‘I’m coming to you as your principal.’ It was heart-to-heart sometimes.”

Those conversations helped Prater to see beyond the walls of Tillman Elementary and into the future. She has since graduated from Palmetto High School and set her sights on an associate’s degree from Ultimate Medical Academy.

Principals came and went during her K-12 education — their names and faces were lost in time. But the death of Gibson felt personal for many, Prater said, describing the chill sent through her body.

“I don’t remember none of them,” Prater said. “But her — I remember her. I remember Dr. Gibson.”

‘IT’S SO HEARTBREAKING’

Prater likely shared space with the son of Jennifer Hancock, who attended Tillman Elementary School from prekindergarten through fifth grade. Had he not met Gibson, the son may have struggled to the point of dropping out, his mother said.

His intelligence and potential were hampered by a disability called developmental coordination disorder (DCD), which is commonly referred to as dyspraxia. The issue went undiagnosed until Gibson pointed the family to a specialist.

Treatments and other specialists began to fall into place, and Hancock now credits Gibson — along with the school staff she trained — for helping the student feel supported, capable and safe.

Hancock remembers the time when her son was bullied on his own school bus. The family went to Gibson for help, and she responded by pairing the son with a group of fifth-graders who kept trouble-makers at bay.

“I was never made to feel like I was bothering her or taking her time away from something else,” the mother said. “Whenever I needed anything, I knew I could call Dr. Gibson and she would give me her full undivided attention.”

“She always treated me like an important partner in her work,” Hancock continued. “What kind of parent feels like a partner to the principal?”

Gibson was never one to sit behind closed doors, said Heather McKay, a mother who knew Gibson as the leader of Gullett Elementary School. She navigated the school halls, bonded with students in the cafeteria and met with families at the drop of a hat.

No matter the challenge, she was always smiling and eager to help. And while Gibson was an ever-present leader, she never placed herself above coworkers, parents or community members, McKay said.

“In a company you have a boss and the staff,” McKay explained. “She treated herself as the staff. There was no separation. It was a team and she was exceptional.”

The school leader had a way of making other people feel special and important. McKay, who sometimes volunteered at the school, received a letter of recommendation from Gibson.

Such letters are often formal and dry, but Gibson wrote a letter that was so personal and heartfelt that McKay saved it in a protective cover. She plans to keep the memento forever.

“If people didn’t know her, they lost out,” McKay said. “That’s why it’s so heartbreaking. She was 47 years old and it’s a shame because she could have been a blessing to more lives.”

LOST IN THE RHYTHM

Gibson spent her formative years in Mumbai, the financial capital India, where she lived and learned with her parents. Her circle began to grow over the next several decades, as she explored new places and passions.

As a foodie, Gibson was like family to the chefs and servers at restaurants throughout Manatee and Sarasota counties.

She found a family in the many teachers and parents at local schools.

And she was family to all who shared a passion for Zumba, a popular type of dance fitness. Gibson adored the program and her “Z-Crew,” said Michelle Nungesser, an instructor-turned-friend.

It was January 2013 when Nungesser stood in the back of a Zumba class at Crunch Fitness, near the corner of University Parkway and Lockwood Ridge Road in Sarasota.

“She came up to me and introduced herself,” Nungesser said. “That was it — we became friends ever since that first day.”

Zumba was a good way to stay healthy and to escape their everyday worries. It was their happy place. And while Nungesser was a substitute Zumba instructor, she never wanted to become a regular teacher with scheduled classes.

That was before she met Gibson, who encouraged — if not pushed — Nungesser to teach more classes and mix up the scene. She brought Afrobeat, tango and other new genres and dances to the class. Gibson was there for every one.

“She seriously was my biggest fan,” Nungesser said. “She was my biggest supporter and I continued to do Zumba because of her.”

Nungesser taught her new friend the joys and benefits of Zumba. In return, Gibson taught her about the fun of being a foodie.

Their favorite place to visit together was Siam Gulf Sarasota. They bonded over papaya salads, a shared favorite, and Gibson would often enjoy the panang curry and shrimp rolls.

Other days, they would make a feast at home.

“We would always cook Asian food together,” Nungesser said. “As a matter of fact, several weeks ago she was at my house for like six hours. We cooked three different types of food.”

Gibson, who spoke about half a dozen languages, was fascinated by culture and learning. She found both in food and Zumba, her friend said.

One of their final conversations was about a new dance routine that Nungesser was planning. It was built around Vuelta Pa’ La Vuelta, a new song by Daddy Yankee and Marc Anthony.

The next day, at about 8:30 a.m. on Dec. 12, Nungesser was dancing when her phone began to ring. Gibson’s husband was calling to deliver the news. They were left only with memories.

“She lit up a room every time she walked in with that big smile,” Nungesser said. “Everyone loved her.”

A NIGHT LIKE ANY OTHER

Dec. 11 was a Friday — date night for Shirin Gibson and her husband, Billy. Stuck at home during the COVID-19 pandemic, they shared a cheese pizza, chicken wings and some red wine.

“We had the best relationship you can imagine,” Billy Gibson said. “Even if we argued — which we rarely did — we would laugh at the end.”

After wrapping up dinner and taking some work calls, Shirin Gibson watched “Yellowstone” on TV and then went to bed. For reasons unknown to her family, she fell victim to a sudden cardiac arrest the next morning, Billy Gibson said.

“One. Two. Three. Four.” He remembers following instructions from a 911 operator and performing CPR for what seemed like 10 or 15 minutes.

“This is a perfectly healthy woman,” Billy Gibson said. “I don’t understand it. This is a freak thing.”

A life well lived

While the loss was abrupt, friends and family knew that Shirin Gibson lived an extraordinary life in just 47 years.

She gained a passion for education and people while living in Mumbai (formerly known as Bombay). Her mother ran an all-girls school and her father was a diplomat.

As she began to travel, Shirin Gibson pursued new languages and cuisines. She had a Persian name that meant “sweet,” and as someone who loved cooking and baking, she grew into the nickname “Cookie.”

“I can assure you this woman was a chef,” Billy Gibson said. “Floyd Cardoz was a childhood friend in Mumbai. He was one of the big chefs in New York City and owned four restaurants. She was friendly with these people. She could have been — and probably would have been if she retired — a chef.”

Shirin Gibson later did finance work for Gold’s Gym in New York. She also worked with celebrities and other high-profile guests at a luxury hotel in New York City, her husband said.

All of her experiences led to an acute understanding of people and their needs. As an educator and leader in Manatee County schools, countless families and coworkers found a partner in Shirin Gibson.

“The parents that came and complained, some of the principals don’t like that,” her husband said. “Cookie thought it was fabulous. She thought the complaints they brought were to benefit their children. It was not a bad thing to complain.”

Shirin Gibson worked as a teacher from 1997 to 2007, before leading Daughtrey Elementary and Tillman Elementary as an assistant principal between 2007 and 2010.

Never satisfied, Gibson earned a doctorate in education leadership and moved on to become the principal of Tillman, Sea Breeze and Gullett elementary schools between 2010 to 2017.

Shirin Gibson — or Dr. Gibson, as coworkers knew her — moved to the administration building in downtown Bradenton three years ago, working as the director of assessment, accountability and research.

And last year she took on her final job: the executive director of curriculum and professional learning.

How do you honor such a positive force in the community? School district leaders will continue that discussion after winter break. For now, the district has teamed up with Manatee Education Foundation to raise money for paraprofessionals — Gibson’s first job.

Interested donors can send a check to the Manatee Education Foundation, 1023 Manatee Ave. W., Suite 215 in Bradenton, with attention to the “Dr. Shirin Gibson Paraprofessional Scholarship Fund.”

Mitchell Teitelbaum, the school district’s attorney, said he came to respect Shirin Gibson’s all-in attitude. Whether it be teaching, leading, cooking or dancing, she never did things halfway.

“She lived three lifetimes in one,” he said. “She lived life to its fullest.”

This story was originally published December 31, 2020 at 5:00 AM.