Golden compass, golden plates, golden rule

Travel along the outer loop of the Washington Beltway, and at one point the spires of a Mormon Temple suddenly come into view, rising above a railroad bridge. In apparent response to the spires’ Oz-like appearance, some years ago some wag scrawled the words “SURRENDER DOROTHY” on that bridge. (Last time I was there, the words had been scrubbed, but in such a precise way that you could still tell what they had been.)

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The end of an era

By the time you read this, dear reader, I will have moved. This is the last column that I will write sitting at my desk here at 321A Humboldt Street.

My new apartment isn’t far. It is still off the Graham stop on the L train, but instead of turning right at the White Castle, you turn left and walk down to 49 Maspeth. I think it’s four blocks away.

Endings and beginnings are interesting moments to write about, especially when there are clear events marking them in your mind. I find them almost always bittersweet. Goodbye to the familiar and comfortable and hello to the new and potentially exciting.

I have lived here for the past two and a half years, and besides my mother’s house on Grassy Swamp Road, it’s the longest I’ve spent in one place.

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Tipping toward a change

As I contemplate writing this piece, it seems logical that this bit of communication should address what I consider not only my vocation, but a passion: education. Education is central to my individual and our collective success in negotiating a complex and rapidly changing world.

Much is written about education, often largely condemning a system that all of us experience. This negativity is limiting. So let’s look to the future changes in the system as being both substantive and meaningful for those of us who will experience it for the first time, as well as for others who will return to develop or hone skills in order to fully experience the world around us.

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