Supporting Each Other Through Life

My husband and I, who are both white, in hiking clothing, sitting on a rock. I have a backpack on my back and there are trees and low plants in the background.

“We take the backpack during each other’s weak part,” my husband said to me as we were finishing the second half of a hike. He was referring to the fact that I carried the backpack with the water and food on the uphills, where he struggles, and he carried it on the downhills that stress out my fussy knees. I hadn’t even thought of it that way, but that’s exactly what we were doing that day. In fact, that’s what we do through so much of our lives, both for each other and those around us.

My husband and I have been married for 18 years and together for 24. We’re both neurodivergent and have executive function challenges. I joke that if you put us together, you may get one person’s worth of executive function. He has social anxiety, but is charming. I am kind of fearless, but often don’t make a good first impression socially. He’s hilarious with the kids, while I tend to be more emotional. We complement each other well.

Continue reading

Sitting with our Pain from the Election Results

“No no no no,” I whispered to myself as I sat on the edge of my bed, looking at my phone. It was the 2024 Election results. I stared at the map mostly covered in red. I focused on the line showing who got what electoral votes, with Donald Trump easily crossing it with 277 out of the required 270.

Once we got the kids off to school, my husband put his head down on his hands and started crying. I walked over, put my arms around him, and wept too.

All day, I felt empty and raw. A sense of despair buried itself into me and wouldn’t let go. All of the exhaustion from election stress and all of the other shit going on in my life overwhelmed me. A fog settled over my mind.

This was my thought pattern – variations on a theme: “We did everything we could, but it wasn’t enough. I did everything I could, but it wasn’t enough. So what’s the point? Why bother? Why did I spend all of that time phone banking and having people hang up on me? Writing postcards? Why the hell bother with climate action now anyway? What difference does it make when he’s back in office and wants to destroy it all anyway? What the hell is all of my life’s work for anyway?!”

Continue reading

Experiments in Collective Living

Five kids and two adults standing at the edge of the water in the ocean, backs to the camera. The waves are relatively gentle.

“Seriously, they walked seven miles in one day when we were in New York City,” I insisted to my friend, who we were traveling with. She gave me a skeptical look.

Four hours later, my older kid was pulling and my younger kid was pushing a cart that had two of the other kids traveling with us in it, one of them sound asleep. My kids ran / walked the entire length of the boardwalk back to our condo, pushing the cart for most of it.

That was just one example of many conflicting expectations that arose on our recent trip to Ocean City with two other families. With six adults and six kids, there were differences in terms of what to eat, when to eat, bedtime, and screen time. Every family does things differently, but you don’t realize how differently until you live with them for several days. Fortunately, through communication and collaboration, all three families were able to make it work together. It gave us a taste of what it would be like to live more communally.

Continue reading

Imperfect Choices and Messed-Up Realities

The U.S. capital building with a huge crowd of people waving American flags in front of it
At Obama’s inauguration. It was so cold.

Shivering with my feet hurting, my mouth nevertheless formed a wide smile as I watched the screen. My own hands grasping the sleeves of my coat, I watched Barack Obama hold his hand up as part of his swearing-in as the President of the United States of America. I blinked away tears against the cold wind, knowing that my own work had helped bring our country to this point. I had knocked on doors, talked to potential voters, and built relationships with other volunteers. After witnessing Bush’s legacy through my college years, I had fully bought into Hope and Change. As a new federal employee, I was proud that I helped choose my next boss and the leader of our government. Standing in the dead January grass on the National Mall at the Presidential inauguration – yet still too far away to see what was going on – was the proudest I ever felt as an American.

A little less than eight years later, I sat on my bed weeping. I had gone to bed before the election results had come in, frustrated but still hoping against hope. Upon waking, I learned that Donald Trump had been elected president. I feared for my job, my friends in less privileged positions, and my children’s futures. My younger son was only six months old at the time. I wrote a letter to my children apologizing for our generation failing to stop it and promising them to fight as hard as I could for better things. And I did. But it constantly felt like a failing fight, two steps backward for every half-step forward. It was exhausting and unsustainable. 

Continue reading

We are all our hands and holders

A gray rabbit with a white face sitting on a striped cushion

As I held the furry gray and white body against my chest, a sense of warmth moved through me. This rabbit had been abandoned in the streets of Washington DC, sitting in her cage for God knows how long before being rescued. And yet she let me pick her up. She could have scratched or bitten me, but she just wanted to be held closely, with love. The fact that she felt safe around me was an honor.

While most of us have never been abandoned as completely as she was, we’ve all be hurt by people in some way or another. Yet like her, we need to rely on others.

Continue reading

Eating our way through our local plants

A white hand (mine) holding mulberries

As I ran, mulberries bounced out of my hand, trailing behind me as if I was some sort of fruit-based Hansel and Gretel. I paused in my run to pick mulberries from a neighbor’s tree – they littered the sidewalk, so they weren’t going to be missed – and had overestimated how many I could hold while jogging. Bringing them home, I announced, “Mulberries!” and dropped them in a plastic bowl. My older son ate them quickly, staining his mouth dark purple.

Continue reading

Searching for alternatives to impossible problems

A cartoon showing the trolley problem with you on one track and five identical clones of you on the other track. It says "What do you do?" and offers the choices of Pull the Lever or Do Nothing.

The computer screen showed a line drawing of the classic philosophical thought experiment called The Trolley Problem. Except instead of stick figure people tied to the railroad tracks like in the original version – which asks you to decide whether to redirect the trolley and save the 5 people on the tracks but kill a single person on the alternate track – it was a choice between you and five identical clones of you.

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting twist,” I commented to my older son, who was both laughing and seriously contemplating the moral implications of this ridiculous choice. It was one of a series of increasingly silly versions of the problem that he was futzing around with. I pointed out, “You know, a lot of people think the original version is silly too because it only offers those two awful choices. Which is true. I guess the thing is that it makes us think about who gets hurt in the decisions we make.”

While the trolley problem itself is ridiculous, there are plenty of versions of it in our society, like people who posit that we have to trade off between environmental protection and the economy. Or posit that to have a good life, we have to screw over Amazon workers so we can have overnight delivery. (In fact, one of the versions says “A trolley is heading towards one guy. You can pull the lever to divert it to the other track, but then your Amazon package will be late. What do you do?”) Or that we don’t have an obligation to pay school taxes over a certain age because well, that’s not *our* responsibility. At that point, society is not even presenting us with an impossible choice – it’s saying that we don’t have to care at all. After all, it’s not our responsibility if the trolley is going to run someone over.

Except it is.

Continue reading

Cute Robot Dogs and Raising Kids Who Ask Questions

A robot dog that has a yellow and black body "standing" on top of a set of uneven stairs with two children and an adult looking through a window on the other side

The dog stretched its legs, sniffed around, and laid down to rest. All totally normal dog things. Except this one was made of metal and settled itself into a charging station. All of the kids watching from outside a window cried “Awww!” They were crying in wonder of not just a dog, but a robot dog! How cool is that, right? Maybe.

Once I pulled the kids away from the window and bought tickets to get in the Boston Museum of Science (where we were), I discovered that the robot dog was part of a larger artificial intelligence (AI) exhibit. I talk a lot about using AI for science in work, so I was intrigued. How was the Museum of Science going to explain AI in a way that was interesting to non-scientists?

Continue reading

Being Reflected in History

A shiny reflective object with a photo of the People's Climate Movement march with people of various races and ages holding signs in front of the U.S. Capital. A woman taking a photo and a child are reflected in the surface.

I stared at my face being reflected back at me from a shining silver surface. Beyond my reflection, there was a photograph laser-etched in black that felt very familiar. Activists of all ages and races yelled and held signs declaring the “People’s Climate Movement” in front of the U.S. Capital.

“I was at this event! Heck, you were at this event!” I exclaimed to my seven year old. We were at an exhibit called “Look Here” at the National Building Museum (shush, it’s much cooler than it sounds). The piece of art combined giant kaleioscopic sculptures with huge metal versions of childhood fortune tellers. Some of the fortune tellers had surfaces printed with photos of historic events in Washington D.C. Other ones featured the 1964 March on Washington and the AIDS quilt.

But to see this one – a photo my kids and I could have been in – was startling. It put us in the company of other people marching on Washington who made history. We were part of that group. We were part of history.

Continue reading