When I graduated from Harvard, I had a lovely boyfriend—and he wanted to travel the world with me. I’d saved up for this trip by working, in the wee hours of the morning, at a place called The Air Charter Guide. There, I used my terrible German and
For the most part, I don’t trust my childhood memories of South Africa. I think most of them aren’t memories at all, just photographs I’ve seen. In a few cases, though, there are no photos, so the images in my mind’s eye must be real memories:
“I’m a hard-core capitalist, and my son’s a socialist. We argue about this stuff all the time,” said a friend after reading my last piece. I liked the sound of that. Engaging a teenager in rigorous debate is a great reason to adopt an extreme stance, at least
If there’s a bright side to Team Democracy’s leadership vacuum, maybe it’s this: it forces each of us to decide, all alone in the dark, what we believe. Here’s where I come out: I don’t just believe in private enterprise. I love it. I love
One of my earliest jobs involved writing speeches for the CEO of a processed meats business. At the time, I knew very little about processed meats and even less about business. My routine was to panic quietly for weeks, then pull an all-nighter. There was something about an empty office
The nicest rejection I ever received came from the famed psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi—the so-called “father of flow.” In 2011, he declined to be interviewed for Work Stew with this gem: “Thanks, Kate, but I am so overwhelmed by various commitments that I can't possibly consider even something
Tomorrow marks three months since the Inauguration. An otherwise lovely person (you know who you are) told me yesterday, “We’re only seven percent of the way through this term.” Ack. Single digits—and already this handout I made during the campaign reads like the most depressing bingo card ever:
A few weeks ago, Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer was one of the Democrats I wanted to see taking turns talking directly—every day—to the American people. She’s popular and pragmatic, and back in 2020, when Trump dismissed her as “that woman from Michigan,” she adopted the label with
The purpose of this post is to update you on five housekeeping matters: 1. Publishing cadence. After some experimentation, I’ve settled on a weekly post: from now on, you can expect to hear from me every Friday. 2. Monthly chats. Thirteen (!) people have signed up for the monthly Zooms
Years ago, in a fitness class I took with my colleagues, the instructor, who was petite and preternaturally bendy, would demonstrate a floor exercise she wanted us all to do. She’d then look at me, tall and decidedly unbendy, and say to no one in particular: “If this is
This is my neighborhood on Bainbridge Island, a 35-minute ferry ride from Seattle. There has been a collection of Trump signs in this yard non-stop for nearly a decade, since well before the 2016 election. One especially large sign, which has disappeared in recent weeks, was festooned with holiday lights
I’m working on a difficult post about a drama unfolding in my neighborhood: the guy who’s had Trump signs out non-stop since 2015 is now getting his fence tagged with “Nazi” in black spray paint. Some of you know that after 30 years in the private sector, I’