March 2025
Dear Reader,
This week, my grandma called out-of-the-blue to tell me about a new soup she likes from Costco. She bought me 2 quarts. I love her.
I don’t only love her for the soup–she’s overall awesome. She studied at Berkeley in the 1960s, right in the thick of the historic campus protests. She double-majored in Political Science and International Relations. She planned to go into the foreign service, but was turned down because the recruiter thought she’d end up getting married and quitting. Then, when she applied to law school as a single mother, the school encouraged her to pick a career path where she could spend time with her children.
Until recently, I saw her as a woman whose bright ideas and big hopes were tragically foiled. Now, I’m reconsidering. If she was trying to improve her community, she’s certainly succeeded. She attends all sorts of city events (arriving at least 30 minutes early, of course), organizes dinners for widows in her neighborhood, knows each child in her ward by name, and spent decades serving as a public librarian.
I believe my grandma would have excelled in the foreign service or the courtroom, and I’m angry that she was barred from those halls of power. But the closed doors bother her less than they bother me. She has work to do and granddaughters to feed. She fills the world with the justice, generosity, wisdom, and love she always hoped it would hold. Society bends to the shape of this persistent, unromantic labor as much as (if not more than) to lofty ideals and broad policies.
This is a letter and not a manifesto, so I won’t try to explain any more. I’ll leave you to enjoy this issue, which is filled with ideas for getting involved in meaningful ways. To get the party started, here are two thoughts:
“The more I love humanity in general, the less I love man in particular. In my dreams, I often make plans for the service of humanity, and perhaps I might actually face crucifixion if it were suddenly necessary. Yet I am incapable of living in the same room with anyone for two days together.”
-Fyodor Dostoyevsky
“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing.”
-Annie Dillard
With that, I’m signing off. It’s 50 degrees for the first time since November, and I’d like to spend as many of my days as possible in the sunshine.
Yours,
Jane