March 10, 2016
MPA founding faculty member Joan Munzner passed away peacefully on March 5, 2016. Joan was a master teacher, a brilliant mentor to her colleagues, and a woman of wit, courage, and insatiable curiosity. She loved MPA and touched many lives. Continue reading for fellow MPA founding faculty member Richard Meacock’s memorial letter to Joan Munzner.
Ave atque vale
Dear Joan,
I and many others who taught with you and who knew the power of your character will miss you mightily, as will the many of us whom you taught whether in the classroom or in the larger reaches of life. You were a teacher beyond compare, whether in a French class, or in a bar. You could imbue the most somber occasion with humor, and the most humorous times with thoughtfulness. I can still hear your voice. “Mind you…” and I would see a situation in a suddenly different light. You taught with rigorous gentleness, guiding kindly where needed, and guiding strictly where needed, often concurrently.
The first time I met you I was a new immigrant to the USA. At Breck your room was across the hallway from mine, and we waved to each other through the interior glass walls. You came across the no-man’s land of the Middle School hallway and started a friendship that did actually change my life. You were warm, funny, acerbic, gentle, loving, and one of the best listeners I have ever known. You did not suffer fools gladly, nor could you tolerate dishonesty or dissembling. You knew well those who were your friends and those who were your opponents. The former you loved with loyalty, the latter you let go with ease.
We moved together to help start MPA. Your dreams went a long way to making the school what it is today. You championed the idea that all teachers merit the same pay, a radical idea in those days when certain age-levels and subjects demanded different pay scales. Your vision was one of communal worth. You founded the world language department, and you gave it a cosmopolitan flavor. You had spent time in Northern Africa, and you always wanted your students to love the cultures of the languages you taught.
My friendship with your family was also seminal to my integration here, and you shared it generously. I remember your mother’s peach jam, Ari’s intellectual quipping, Naomi’s commitment ceremony. I remember your beloved hedgehogs and that you had been on a fencing team. I remember you meeting my mother and embracing her warmly. And I remember and am forever grateful for your unflappability when I came out. Oh, and yes, I used to call you Lydia Bunberry, and you called me Nigel after the naughty English prankster schoolboy of literature.
Goodbye to you, my dear, wise-funny woman that you were – and as you always said, “Mille bises.”
Love,
Nigel Molesworth
Richard Meacock
MPA founding faculty member
