I have always been composing sentences in my head: descriptions of scenes, relationships, and experiences. I just never had the courage to put them anywhere but in a personal journal. I was afraid of revealing myself as a fraud (I’m not a real writer!) or hurting someone’s feelings (sorry, Mom, in advance). I spent most of my professional life writing memos, policy position papers and reports. Not the type of writing I had in mind. Sometime after I turned 50 I realized that I wasn’t so afraid (no, thankfully my mother didn’t die, I think I finally made peace with the risk). I began to write in a real way, with the intention of sharing it. My kids signed me up for my first writing workshop, as a retirement gift, and I have been plugging away at it since (five years now– time flies!)
So, I am writing this blog to provide a space to put my reflections on growing up in Brooklyn in the ‘60s and ‘70s as part of an extended Jewish family. I think there are some stories to tell. If they are only of interest to my family, at least this will be an efficient way to share them!
As the years have gone on, I also realized that my interest in public policy was as much a part of me as memories of childhood. I write the occasional op-ed pieces (or maybe more than occasional), too.
I welcome your comments!