A few months after the publication of an article I wrote for The Atlantic exploring what the education system would look like under an all private or all public school scenario, I was contacted by the editor of a publication called Ensia. Would I consider applying the same hypothetical scenario to fuel economy standards? I thought it was a great idea. The result was this article that discusses the potential impacts from proceeding with tough standards or abandoning standards altogether. In 2012, the Obama administration put in place fuel economy standards — phased in over time — that would roughly double the fuel economy of cars by 2025. President Trump has begun the process of rolling back the standards even though some automakers don’t support that. Statements from Honda and Ford indicate those companies are not asking for a rollback, while General Motors has said it is committed to reducing greenhouse gas emissions and supports an all-electric future. With the contentious fuel economy debate currently unfolding, it was an opportune time to engage in this thought experiment. I had the chance to interview those of all different types of ideologies and backgrounds who provided their varying perspectives. I believe this approach of allowing experts to discuss these types of issues in a more academic context, outside the political fray, leads to important discourse. It’s anybody’s guess as to what ultimately will happen with the standards, which have already significantly improved the fuel efficiency of cars. But the more information that’s available to the public on the potential implications, hopefully the better informed the discussions will be.
One of my favorite writing gigs is providing the “Second Act” stories to The Wall Street Journal’s Encore section twice a year. Second Acts focus on those who find a new passion in their fifty-plus years — be it a career or full-time hobby or avocation. I feel privileged to be able to share the journeys of such a disparate group of people. In the April 23rd edition, I was pleased to have written four articles. I was moved to hear about how an owner of an investment firm decided to open up a chocolate shop to employ disabled workers. There was also a physical therapist who decided to become a whitewater rafting guide, a teacher who launched a nonprofit to generate enthusiasm for the STEM fields in girls and a marketing executive who spends her retirement years traveling the world inexpensively by house sitting. Interviewing these types of individuals gives me hope that there are many exciting ways to spend one’s later years, provided, of course that you remain healthy. I’m sure that the zeal they have for these new pursuits helps to keep them both physically and emotionally healthy as well. I was just as intrigued by another story I told in the most recent Encore issue: a mission of developers of 55 plus active living communities to build eco-friendly residences. They found that older adults crave environmentally sustainable living, partly because it’s economical as well. I look forward to continuing my coverage of the ways older adults are embarking on their senior years with great enthusiasm and joy. I’m always looking for Second Act candidates, so if you know of anyone who has made an interesting late-in-life career switch, please contact me!
Technology has recently taken a beating. Mark Zuckerberg is set to testify this week about Facebook’s privacy practices — concerns that have sent the stock reeling. Our reliance on instantaneous communication and impersonal devices has been blamed for epidemic increases in mental health problems among young people. But there’s one area where technology is being viewed as a breakthrough: the advances it will bring to the fast growing elderly population. It’s been a busy week, so I’m just now getting around to debriefing on the What’s Next Boomer Summit I attended last month in San Francisco. In its 15th year, it’s the brainchild of Mary Furlong, an entrepreneur considered the “godmother” to those who are developing products aimed at improving the quality of life for older Americans. At this most recent gathering, I got a view of a variety of promising innovations. Apps have been developed for areas where they’re most desperately needed, like protecting the financial assets of the elderly. As AARP finds the majority of older Americans seek to remain in their homes as they age, there are a plethora of interactive technologies underway to help them. Robotics is ushering in an era that will allow not just supervision for older people, but socialization. As we take stock of the negative repercussions of technology, it’s uplifting to see the positive role it could ultimately play in improving the quality of life of aging Americans, who will soon comprise the majority; nearly one in five U.S. residents will be age 65 or older by 2030. Along those lines of living a fulfilling life, I write articles for The Wall Street Journal focused on those who switch to interesting new careers after 50. I’m always on the hunt for the next round of inspirational stories, so please contact me if you or someone you know would like to be featured.
When the Atlantic’s education editor asked me to pursue an article focused on private vs. public education systems, I didn’t hesitate. The assignment was intriguing. The Atlantic was launching a series called, “Moonshots,” where editors posted hypothetical questions that journalists would investigate. My article must answer the questions: What if all students were required to attend public school? And the contrary: What if all students were required to attend private school? The idea was to facilitate a conversation that would lead to insights on what makes for the best educational experience. I spent much of August researching the issue, speaking with leading educational experts, those working for both liberal and conservative think tanks, teachers, parents and students. The result was this article.
As the child of a public school teacher — my mother taught high school English in the Detroit Public Schools for 35 years — and as the sister of a middle school language arts public school teacher, I admit that I had some preconceived assumptions about private schools: that they catered to elite, affluent, mostly white students. But in the course of speaking to those on every part of the education spectrum, I learned that private schools are often more diverse than their surrounding public schools. Wealthy school districts are usually equated with pricey real estate that only the affluent can afford. This means that these districts are often have far less socioeconomic diversity than in private schools, where the school has the ability to ensure a diverse population of students. That’s not to say that private schools are perfect. Administrators can be far more selective and potentially discriminatory; they may not take in those with disabilities or other special needs. Large public schools turn away no one. And they’re often are able to offer a vastly more comprehensive curriculum, as well as a plethora of extracurricular activities.
What I took away from this fascinating exploration of our education institutions is that, in pitting private schools and charter “schools of choice” against public schools, we haven’t taken the time to focus on what each has to offer to students. Each system has its drawbacks. But if we would consider more the strengths of each type of learning environment, we could learn a lot about how to improve today’s systems — ultimately creating a far stronger educational system for our students.
When deciding what articles to pursue, I often look to compelling statistics to find the story. And the following statistics shocked me. In 2010, there were 1,182 deaths by suicide among those ages 15 to 18; that number jumped to 1,458 in 2015, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Two years ago, a CDC survey found that nearly 18 percent of high school students had seriously considered suicide in the previous twelve months. Suicide is the second leading cause of death among young people and it’s hit the area where I live hard. During the past academic year, our small community lost three young people to suicide. It would be easier to feel the sorrow and not probe this sensitive topic. It would be easier not to pester the grieving parents and have to ask them to relive the memories of their loved one. In other words, it would be easier to shy away from covering suicides. But avoiding the topic altogether has not proven helpful. Research shows that writing about teen suicide does not encourage more teens to take their lives. In fact, the data argues that awareness of the problem can lead to solutions and outreach and providing the help that our young people so desperately need. So I wrote my third article on the topic, this time for The Ann Arbor Observer. (I previously wrote an article for Good Housekeeping and another for The Michigan Alumnus. ) I’m grateful that the Roberts family understands the importance of spreading awareness on teen suicide and so bravely sat down with me to reminisce about their precious son. The reaction from the community to the piece has been extremely positive. Those who have been hit hard by suicides of young people all seem to realize that discussing this — not sweeping it under the rug as if it never happened — is key in addressing this epidemic. I hope there will be inroads and that I won’t have to write about this painful subject any time soon. But if there is another tragedy, I will not hesitate to confront the topic again. It’s something that any responsible member of the media should do.
As someone who works from home, I often long for a distraction. And my go-to source is Facebook. I strive to employ discipline by not allowing myself a peek of my social media feed unless I’ve put in a certain amount of hours or written the top of a complicated story or finished several interviews. Since I have limited in person interaction with other humans during the day, it’s my social reward for getting through a particularly challenging stint of assignments. I don’t post frequently (though my family members would beg to differ.) Instead, I enjoy peering into the lives of my friends and family. As a journalist, I’m most comfortable in the role of observer. Now that it’s summer, I find myself scrolling through endless streams of vacation pics. As I sit at my desk, I mentally photo shop myself into the many beach scenes, wishing I was there. This got me thinking about what I call the “vacation poster,” those who are only heard from on Facebook while on vacation. Whether it’s a beach in Northern Michigan, a nature hike in the mountains or a more exotic trip to Europe, there’s no end to these photos. Silent the rest of the year, the vacation posters are eager to share their happy memories while those memories are being made. Some post daily as if to say repeatedly, “look at the wonderful vacation I’m having!” With much time and thought given to the daily postings, I wonder how much they’re able to experience that vacation in the moment. I have found myself guilty of this as well, especially with my children. I have been so preoccupied with capturing the scene in a photo and envisioning the wonderful Facebook post that will ensue that I missed the chance to embrace the experience as it was unfolding. To be sure, many of those who post are truly eager to share their vacation photos and their enthusiasm for their summer getaway with dear friends and family and Facebook is the most convenient venue to do so widely. But I also wonder if there’s a deeper psychological reason: an interest in conveying to the public, in typical social media style, that life is good, even if it always isn’t. The positive comments that invariably follow: “The family adventure looks amazing!” “What a terrific trip!” “You look beautiful!” are validating. A vacation isn’t truly great unless those who see the photos say it is. I’m sure there are plenty of people who head on vacation and don’t give Facebook a second thought. They may be more interested in enjoying the time in a fresh destination than having others reflect on it. Do they ultimately enjoy their vacation more than those consumed with posting about it? Of course, it’s impossible to know. My husband and I are heading to Paris in the fall to visit my daughter who will be studying there. It’s the first time we’ve been to Europe since before our children were born and I’m very excited. But I’m going to try very hard not to envision each photo as an opportunity for a Facebook post — even thought that’s tempting. I’ll find out if my travel abroad is more positive when it’s not viewed through the lens of social media. A future blog will reveal the impact of this social media restraint! Happy travels to all of you this summer.
Our former minivan, above, jam packed for its last college venture.
After donating my 14-year-old minivan last month, I found myself becoming overwhelmed with emotion. The depth of my reaction surprised me and I decided to explore my feelings and the reason for them in an essay. I don’t often have the time amidst my many freelancing assignments to write personal essays. And I’ve had limited success with the few I’ve tried to sell. So after writing it, I showed it to my husband. He’s become my go-to person to bounce ideas off of over the many years we’ve been married. He always has good instincts about how a piece might be received and he’s been incredibly supportive of my writing. He often weighs in with valuable advice on how to improve my articles. But this time, his response and candor surprised me. “It’s so cheesy and cliche,” he said. “I don’t think you should try to sell it.” I shed tears while writing this piece and the subject moved me. I thought other moms my age would be able to identify with it. I wasn’t yet ready to accept his answer, so I had a close friend read it. “I’m sitting here in tears,” she said after reading it. Not comfortable accepting just her answer, I sent it to my sister, who is brutally honest. “I loved it,” she said. Buoyed by their remarks, I sent it to a few publications. I bet my husband that others would feel the same and that I would get it published. Within a few days, Real Simple accepted the article. After I posted it on Facebook, comments began streaming in, with numerous people sharing their stories of their attachment to their very old cars. It seemed I was not the only person who grew to love their vehicle and was reluctant to let it go. Jubilant that I had won the bet (unfortunately we never solidified any terms, so satisfaction was my only reward,) I told my husband that it didn’t matter so much to me that he didn’t like the piece, since he was not my target audience. This would resonate mostly with women, especially those with older children. And, indeed, almost all of those who responded favorably to my Facebook post were female. Other women were the ones who grew sentimental over the vehicle as I did. I find this division along gender lines interesting. Is it because more women tend to drive their kids around in the family vehicle, therefore cementing more memories behind the wheel? Why would men not feel the same? Or would they just be more ashamed to admit getting weepy at the prospect of parting with the family van? I don’t know the answers. But as I pitch stories, I always consider the audience of the publication I’m targeting to run my piece. As a freelancer, you want to make sure your stories — especially personal essays — land in the hands of those who can most identify with the subject of your article. It’s a key way to market your pieces and increase your chances of selling them. I knew a magazine with mostly female readers would be the right target for this essay. I’m glad my instincts were right.