Interoffice Mail

Mid-day today, I got a group Facebook message from a friend of mine, C:

Hey! If you are getting this message it’s because either you have posted about Warren or I think you might like/support her.

On my way to work today, I realized that I drive by her house every day. People are leaving notes and flowers on her porch. 

Cambridge loves you

With this realization, C had had a flash of inspiration. Her plan was simple: she was offering to deliver any messages any of us wanted to send to Elizabeth Warren. If we could email our message to C by 5, she’d print them all out and then drop them on Warren’s porch as C made her way home from work.

Obviously, this was one of those offers that could not be refused.

Here’s a photo C sent of all our messages bundled together before they were delivered*:

That’s my name, lower left

I toyed with the idea of sharing my message to Warren here on JALC, but I decided against that.

It’s not that I said anything especially profound, because good Gaia that was not the case. My heart was so full, I was barely able to put together sentences. And I’m sure what sentences I did put together were more platitudes than punditry.

And that’s okay. Because however awkward the phrasing, I was writing from the heart. And even if the note only gets read by someone on Warren’s staff, this small endeavor has been so healing for me today.

It’s not just about having a chance to express my sorrow and admiration to Senator Warren, or about getting to tell her I will be at the very front of the line to hear her when she does share her thoughts about the role of sexism in the 2020 presidential race.

(Though don’t get me wrong: both of those things were plenty cathartic.)

A big piece of today’s healing for me was the sense of community. The tangible reminder that no, I am not in this alone and that we can be stronger together.**

C putting two and two together as she saw Warren’s neighbors leaving tokens of support and thanks and comfort. The incredible generosity of her reaching out to all of us in her circle of friends and family. To give us a chance for our expression and catharsis—and to give Warren a chance to hear from more supporters, from all our different locations and our life circumstances. (Including my husband, who wrote his own note that I sent as part of my email to C.)

And the pictures C sent us of all the chalk messages that are building up on the brick sidewalks.


  • Your campaign meant so much to me
  • It’s what girls do
  • Cambridge loves you
  • Love you, Queen
  • You continue to give me hope
  • Thank you
  • Thank you
  • Thank you

This has all helped remind me about the better angels of our human nature, to restore just a little bit of my faith in humanity.

My heart is a little bit more healed after this experience than it was before it.

And that’s a wonderful gift to have received today.


* You will notice that none of these first names actually begin with a “C.” Yes, Virginia, I deliberately chose an initial-cum-pseudonym that doesn’t match anything on the envelope. It seemed the best way to protect my friend’s privacy until and unless she tells me she’s comfortable being represented in this story by name.

** Whoops. Didn’t mean to metaphorically name-check the 2016 campaign, there. But I’ma leaving that sentiment unedited.


Image credit: My friend. Used with permission, not licensed for any further distribution.

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