Peace, I Hope

It's been a little hard to stay focused on education for the last week, what with the sense that outside our small office overlooking Connecticut Avenue, history is unfolding by the minute, hour and day. And because I've been somewhat obsessively reading the many moving tributes to and reflections on David Foster Wallace, who died last week, far too young. Over the past year I've consumed virtually every piece of non-fiction he wrote, and in doing so I was awestruck at his insight and mastery of prose. There was also, regardless of topic, a humility and essential human decency in the personality behind the writing that was chastening in a way; he challenged you with the example of his generosity of spirit and discipline of mind. He was also ruthlessly honest and self-critical, so with that in mind I'll simply note that there are times when I meet someone smarter than I or read someone who is a more talented and skilled writer, and I can't avoid pangs of jealousy and self-doubt, yet Wallace was one of those people who was so much smarter and so much more talented and accomplished that such small feelings seemed foolish, and I was just grateful that he chose to share his ideas and work, too briefly, with the world.

Plus, he was all about the greatness of The Wire. Peace, DFW.