News & Weekly Letters

In his novel 1984, George Orwell imagines a political regime that imposes its authority in part through language. Newspeak, the official language, is designed to reduce and control vocabulary and reflects the desire of the ruling power to limit its subjects’ ability to think. By restricting citizens’ capacity for language, by raising up certain words and trampling others underfoot, the Oceania dictatorship ultimately seeks to weaken people’s ability to reason and to think critically.

As promised in last week’s letter, I’d like to share the high school placements for our 19 8th Grade students today. This year’s results are truly exceptional and reflect not only the students’ hard work and dedication, along with that of their teachers, but also the commitment of their families. A stressful few months are coming to an end, and now the only thing left for each student to do is choose the school that fits them best.

February Break was an opportunity for me to hit pause on my regular routine and take some time to think. In moments like this, I like to retrace the path I’ve taken and the decisions I’ve made since I took over as head of The École in 2020. It helps, as I prepare for the 2026-2027 school year, ensure that the steps I take now are a logical continuation of what has gone before and are taking us in the right direction. Retracing that path, telling that story, is also a reminder that everything we hope to put in place ultimately takes shape through our colleagues.

With the forecast announcing another layer of snow followed by yet another wave of polar cold, I’ve decided to head to the sun—to Casablanca, to be precise—to attend a conference organized by our partners at the Mission Laïque française. I’ve never been to Casablanca, even though the name inevitably evokes the film of the same name, one of my favorites, in which the city doesn’t really feature; it serves above all as a symbol of history set ablaze, a city brimming with refugees desperately waiting for the next flight to Lisbon, the final stop on the way to America and freedom.

This morning, in an attempt to better protect myself from the polar cold that has us all at its mercy, I put on a big pair of boots I hadn’t worn in a long time. So long, in fact, that I had forgotten I had lost one of the tips at the end of a shoelace. That tiny piece of plastic, perfectly anodyne at first glance, is nevertheless of critical importance—and so my day got off to a rather poor start as I struggled to thread a stubborn, frayed lace through a minuscule eyelet. You know me well enough to see where this is going: there is most definitely a metaphor coming!