Julia Nefsky
Even though Barry was not my dissertation advisor or someone I worked very closely with, he was a tremendously warm and supportive presence for me throughout my time in graduate school at Berkeley.
When I began graduate school, I felt completely like a fish out of water; I had a bad case of imposter syndrome and felt that I did not know anything compared to my peers. That year Barry co-taught the first-year seminar with Hannah Ginsborg. I was too insecure to speak much during the seminar itself, but we wrote regular reading responses, which Hannah and Barry took turns reading and commenting on. So, Barry got to know me initially through those written responses, the occasional conversation, and also in his role as the Graduate Advisor that year. I also felt a connection to Barry as a fellow Torontonian. I still recall him describing to me how as a kid he used to swim and play in the Don River. (This amazed me because the Don River that Barry described was something of old storybooks for me, since it was largely destroyed in the construction of the Don Valley Parkway in the 1950s.)
After that first year, on many different occasions, Barry went out of his way to encourage me, and to directly address my lack of confidence. He told me in several different, but all very direct, ways that my work was good and that I should quit being so insecure. I also have some vivid memories, from later in graduate school, of Barry congratulating me about some work I had done or a talk I had given. He went out of his way to seek me out, tell me how pleased he was, and he did it in such a warm tone which made clear that he really did care.
There was something very unique and distinctly helpful about these interactions with Barry. He didn’t just address my work, but also me as a person. He made clear that he noticed and cared about how I was doing. And it felt as though he was keeping an eye out and cheering me on. In addition to my immense admiration for him as a philosopher, I feel deeply indebted to Barry for his kindness.