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Philippe, who officially joined our team this week, would like to offer a course in financial literacy to our middle schoolers next year. I researched the suggested content for similar courses in France and found that the recommendation is for students to learn to read bank statements using Guy de Maupassant’s “The Necklace” as a reference (a short story all our 8th graders know well, thanks to Mr. LeMartelot).

Cast your minds back to a time when we were still called EINY. Some of you may already know this, but the previous occupant of the Elementary & Middle School Building was the Elite Model Agency. Even though it’s been 15 years since we took over the space, notepads with the Elite logo on them still linger in our cabinets, and we still receive mail addressed to Elite’s models and agents. So you can imagine, during the first few months after EINY moved in, the number of beautiful young things who called at 111 E 22nd Street, dressed to the nines and cool as cucumbers, trying to land contracts as top models.

I’m back this week, just a little cranky about the 50-something responses Philippe had to his letter last week–my response rate is far, far lower! (Andria and I have a weekly squabble over the readership reports of my letter vs. her Memo–I beat her soundly every time, so that’s some comfort!) I do, of course, forgive you all because Philippe’s announcement was an important one and worthy of all the congratulations you sent his way. The announcement is, as I am sure you all realized, very good news for The École, especially as we are preparing for a new phase in our school’s history.

Over the years, Laurence and I have intentionally remained discreet about our private lives and my professional career. One reason is that I have worked for 27 years (more than half my life) as a partner at Renaissance Technologies, a hedge fund that is more than discreet—it is completely opaque and mysterious when viewed from the outside. Renaissance is, however, legendary in the world of finance for its outstanding performance over the decades.

“William the Conqueror didn’t want to be called ‘the Conqueror,’” writes Michel Foucault, because the nickname betrayed the fact that the power he exercised over the English did not come from a legitimate dynastic claim. We know that history is always written by the powerful, by those who have the privilege of choosing on behalf of others what is important and what is not.