whatever it takes
I love This American Life on NPR. When I was at Cranbrook I would draw quietly at my desk with my headphones on, plugged into the computer, streaming episode after episode. I have listened to almost all of them.
I submitted an essay of mine to them recently, with a note gushing and bragging about how much I know This American Life and how inspiring it is. They rejected it with a form letter that suggested I listen to the show to see what work might best fit their style. I could only laugh. And resubmit it to them again. I really think that their aesthetic is closely aligned with mine, close enough that if I moved to Chicago I would work for them in a heartbeat.
I listened to their recent episode this past Sunday while I was making a really delicious dessert for some dinner guests. I cried through most of Act One, and felt inspired enough that even now when I think of that episode I feel full in my stomach, this feeling like I need to and should jump out into the world and save it right now. It’s about a man who had a child too young, didn’t know how to parent yet and didn’t know how to be a success in his own life. Then he grew up, and twenty years later he had a child again, this time with enough money and knowledge to raise it well. (Maybe that is relevant. Maybe that is the person I love.) He learns that it doesn’t take much to raise a child well, but those first few years are everything. He teaches what he knows — pretty much he just tells new, poor parents to read to their children — and the results break my heart and restore it.
