A jack-of-all-trades. That’s one way to describe Mr. Myles Bacon in the few months he’s been on the Bishop’s campus.
He sings the “Star Spangled Banner” during Bishop’s sports games and coaches middle-schoolers through handball. He has been a substitute teacher and, recently, he gave a chapel talk, elaborating on the significance of “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” also known as the Black national anthem.
Although he only arrived at Bishop’s last year, Mr. Bacon has quickly made his presence known on campus. When Mr. Bacon is mentioned during discussion, students light up. A buzz of chatter consists of many “We love Mr. Bacon’s” and “Mr. Bacon is the best.” One of these students, Gabrielle “Gabby” Gaspar (‘25) said that he taught her how to long jump during track and field season this year. “He’s so nice and encouraging,” she said, “I was so scared of falling on my face, but he helped me.”
Mr. Bacon has held a wide array of different jobs, ranging from a barback in a college-town pub, an intern for National Geographic, the head coach for University of North Carolina’s (UNC) handball team, and even a lead statistician and analyst for handball at the 2012 London Games. He’s also been a Uber and Lyft driver. “You can imagine my Lyft rides were dope,” he said, alluding to his outgoing personality. He really is a jack-of-all-trades.
It was while he was working as a bartender in a college town that he had a vision to come to San Diego — and eventually to Bishop’s.
The Vision:
On New Years Eve of 2018, Mr. Bacon was getting ready to leave his apartment and help out at his local bar on one of the busiest nights of the year. There had been some “things with the owner,” but Mr. Bacon was never one to let those kinds of squabbles affect him. Yet as Mr. Bacon was leaving, he heard a voice in his head — which was unusual. Although not clear or distinct, the voice had spoken to him a handful of times over the course of two to three years. “I don’t know if I would call it a vision, as much as it was an overwhelming feeling. Intuition if you will,” he said.
Mr. Bacon decided to stay at home that night. It was only after the new year began did Mr. Bacon find out that an altercation had broken out in the bar. “I know the nature of me. I would have been somewhere in the mix of that,” he said, “and that’s when I realized something much larger was going on.”
This was the same voice that told him to “pay attention to the chaos” and move to San Diego where his brothers lived. As a result, “I kind of hopped on a half-pipe of chaos, just dropped in. Stuff was going ahead of me, under me, and somehow in front of me,” Mr. Bacon said.
But he never lost faith, something Mr. Bacon said, “you can’t put a number on, but it is invaluable.”
Listening to this voice allowed him to view life as “kind of like this cruise-control thing” and have faith in the path ahead of him or — as he put it — “the whole flow of life.” He added, “You’re allowed to have anxiety or worry about stuff, but, in the end of it, as some people say ‘God’s got us.’ Or as old people say it: ‘let go and let God.’”
Shredding the Half-Pipe of Chaos:
Following his intuition, Mr. Bacon spent the next few months “couch-hopping” and “spare-rooming”, as he called it, until he eventually reached San Diego in March of 2019. He didn’t want to get too comfortable in one place. “My coming to San Diego in general was chaotic at best,” Mr. Bacon said.
He was making his way towards his two older brothers Malykke and Micah who lived in San Diego. His bond with his brothers was like a force that pulled him towards San Diego. Mr. Bacon admitted that 20 years ago he would have looked up to a lot of athletes. Now, Malykke, the oldest, is one of the people Mr. Bacon admires most. Malykke stepped in for their mom when she was going through tougher stages of Multiple Sclerosis, including loss of mobility and increased fatigue. “It was kinda like I wanted to impress him in a lot of ways.” Mr. Bacon also looked up to his middle brother, who received long-lasting injuries from a car crash. “He’s made the best of life with usage of half of his brain and limited functionality on his left hemisphere,” Mr. Bacon said.
Mr. Bacon always harbored this desire to have a supportive community — a home. “Having a place to call home was very important,” Mr. Bacon said. This core value informed Mr. Bacon’s decision to attend the University of North Carolina instead of Harvard University. “When I visited Harvard, I hated it. Like I hated it,” he said. He noted that the environment wasn’t “warm” and had “almost no humanity.” “And I’m not just saying that because it was Boston in January,” he said.
His time at UNC and with the handball team there allowed him to realize what kind of community he wanted. “I was hoping to find anything remotely similar to that feeling,” he said when describing his experience moving towards San Diego. Finding that feeling once he arrived in San Diego was much harder.
Mr. Bacon described his first two to three years in San Diego as “lost.” When he arrived in San Diego, his older brother suffered a stroke, which made Mr. Bacon a caretaker of both him and his middle brother. He subbed for the San Diego Unified School District and charter schools in Chula Vista and worked as a Lyft and Uber driver. Then the pandemic hit.
Mr. Bacon viewed the pandemic as a time for him to “reflect on some of the walls I had built up.” As he put it,“I’m in a big city, with a lot of people, yet I feel very alone. Why is that?”
During this time, Mr. Bacon realized one of his core values.“Everybody is born with their own light,” Mr. Bacon said, “As we go through life… we shed pieces of our light in exchange for acceptance.” Throughout the years, Mr. Bacon admitted that he “walled off my actual light.” The pandemic allowed him to “tap back into my actual light, through therapy and also just self reflection, a kind of self science — understanding more about who I am and why I’m where I’m at.”
This revelation was a pivotal moment in Mr. Bacon’s life. “It took so much weight off my shoulders,” he said.
During this time, Mr. Bacon felt the universe — and flow of life — decided to send him a lot of former relationships, including his former Exeter history teacher, Head of School Mr. Ron Kim.
Entering and Exiting Exeter:
In 1994, Mr. Bacon was accepted into Phillips Exeter Academy, one of the most renowned schools in America. At Exeter, he said, “I learned so much about life. My life. Other people’s lives.”
It was at Exeter where he met and grew close to Mr. Kim. “Mr. Kim was dope because he was relatively young compared to my old fart Latin teachers, like I had some ooooold teachers,” he said, laughing.
Mr. Bacon went on to explain how the relationship between him and Mr. Kim became like “an uncle-type relationship.” “He’ll get on you if you don’t do the right thing, but, at the end of the day, he’s down to be a pretty cool dude,” he said.
As Mr. Bacon adjusted to Exeter life, harkness discussions became one of the most poignant memories of the school.“There were Harkness warriors,” he said, “there were people who just came in and were like ‘Bam, Bam, Bam’ and you’re sitting there like, ‘Bruh, clearly you’re gonna get an A.’” These experiences taught Mr. Bacon conversational skills. He said, “I was able to take some Harkness warriors off their pedestal.”
He continued, “I’ve been able to use the experiences that I’ve had to not only include somebody in a conversation, but use what they say in conversation, but build towards a productive end.” He said that some conversations he has had “probably should have ended in a lot more fights, arguments, and bitter feels” if not for the Harkness skills he learned at Exeter.
Everyday, students roamed the hallways of their dorms. Being a boarding school, Exeter faculty lived in the same area as students, naturally forging deeper connections. Mr. Kim and Mr. Bacon occasionally played basketball together, strengthening their relationship. But, most of all, Mr. Bacon noted that Mr. Kim
made him feel welcome, “embracing…[students] in a couple realms here or there.” It was through this shared common ground — both literally and figuratively – that Mr. Bacon recognized that this was his community. “Like there was something home,” he said.
Mr. Bacon’s Childhood:
Springfield, Ohio was Mr. Bacon’s first home, where he grew up with his mom, Edna, and his two brothers. His mother had a tremendous influence on him and made major sacrifices for his benefit.
One winter, in seventh grade, his mom decided to cancel the gas in
the house. Mr. Bacon, his mom, and his two brothers had no way to take hot showers, only “luke warm-ish” ones. They used electric heaters. His mother did all of this so Mr. Bacon could go to a private Catholic school.
When he was in second grade, his mother found out they were living across from a drug dealer and alcoholic. Mr. Bacon was young, he didn’t know much, but he knew enough. His mom moved them
“all the way across town to get away from that.”
However, Mr. Bacon doesn’t just look up to his mom, he also looks up to his brothers. His middle brother, Micah, has a disability. Growing up with a disabled sibling made Mr. Bacon “more aware of compas
sion elements in life, understanding that people have differences and challenges.”
After their mom passed away, Mr. Bacon’s eldest brother, Malykke, stepped into her place. He “more or less took over the responsibilities of caring for our middle brother,” he said. For this, he is beyond grateful and continues to admire him.
“When we talk about people being ‘on the spectrum,’ what we fail to realize, as individuals, is that we are all on various ‘spectrums’ all the time,” explained Mr. Bacon. He gives an example of how someone can really love spicy food or sweet cereal in the morning.
As the youngest, Mr. Bacon was more prepared for school because he had older brothers. He sat on the ground playing, while listening to his mom go over math with his eldest brother. The repeated math equations imprinted themselves on his brain.
When he was in second grade, Mr. Bacon attended a sports camp, led by Ron Burton, a football player. It was a group of young kids, playing a variety of different sports, ranging from basketball to swim to dodgeball. However, the longer the time spent at this camp, the more he realized it wasn’t only about sports.
He said, “It had so much more to do with being a good person and being a good competitor. Because you can compete, but not be a good competitor.”
Before sixth grade, “If I won, I was gonna let you know it,” he said. He called himself “kinda a jerk.” This camp is where he learned a lot about humility, and the lesson stuck with him throughout his life thus far, shaping who he is today.
“Mr. Burton’s camp really taught me so much about just doing the work,” he said. Because, at the end of the day, what you do on the court speaks for itself. After the camp, Mr. Bacon knew he had changed. He knew it was for the better. He knew he was more “human.”
A while back, around 2016, he ran into one of his old competitors, someone named Tony Wrice. Mr. Wrice, at the time, was his biggest rival. However, he was able to connect with him again, because he was able to let that go.
Back to Bishop’s (Present)
In August of 2022, Mr. Bacon came to work at Bishop’s, first as a substitute teacher. He charmed many students with his engaging and outgoing personality, quickly becoming a favorite. Mr. Bacon arrives at school every morning with a warm smile that instantly brightens the day of someone passing by.
Bishop’s also gave Mr. Bacon a sense of nostalgia from his Exeter days. Sitting at the head of the classroom, looking over a crowd of students sitting at an oval table, having a discussion, Mr. Bacon thought, “Oh my god. I’m back home.”
One thing Mr. Bacon is proud of is his Black and Cherokee identity. He recently gave a chapel talk describing how the Black National Anthem “Lift Every Voice and Sing” had made a big impact on his life.
“Not only do I get to interact with so many diverse interests, intellects, athleticism, etcetera, but I also get the very special opportunity to be a positive Black person directly in front of you.”
Mr. Bacon noted that he mainly sees Black representation through news, music, movies, or sports. He strives to change this. Given his African and Cherokee identity, he is grateful and proud of the opportunity to “actually affect people tangibly in their lives that may or may not have had as many Black experiences.”
***
In the heat of the afternoon, right around 2:00, a swarm of about 30 middle-schoolers cluster right in front of the gym. Mr. Bacon, with a pair of black sunglasses hanging off the back of his head, stands at the center of the stretching circle. He’s smiling a wide grin — something that all students know him for. “When people see me walking around campus, I’m usually in a pretty good mood,” he said, “I’m like ‘How bad is life’?”
![Chair of the Mathematics Department Mrs. Catherine Beamer said, “[Mr. Maycock] brings a different perspective to looking at mathematical concepts. He’s introduced some really useful tools and strategies to our department, and he runs most of the math competitions like the AMC and California Math League.”](https://thebishopstower.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Screenshot-2024-05-08-at-8.59.21-AM.png)
