For over 40 years I worked in human services in urban settings, primarily Boston. My work with young people and the organizations serving them was creative, rewarding, and exhausting often at the same time. At age 11 I lived in Bogota, Colombia for 3 months, an experience that has shaped me in ways I continue to discover. Since then, I’ve been lucky to travel to amazing places across the globe and had incredible experiences: learning to make strudel at the Owl’s Nest Restaurant in Budapest, Hungary; trying to go hot air ballooning in the Serengeti in Africa; joining in a Bat Mitzvah celebration on Mount Masada in Israel.
The past two decades have included Truro. The coronavirus pandemic showed me how much my home in Truro means to me. I’ve realized that for the last 20 years Truro has been my refuge. It is a place of beauty, peace, and sanity no matter what the season or what else was going on in the world. But in the current political and medical climate it is clear that no place, including Truro, is an island. We are all connected by our humanity, our intentions and our values. For Truro (or any place else) to continue to be a place of refuge for young families, older retirees like me and anyone who is drawn to this unique place, we need to act intentionally. To treat each other and ourselves gently, to take a breath before we react, and to try to assume best rather than worst intentions. The words on my plate were inspired by watching people, including myself, struggle with our new reality and figure out how to both stay safe and be human.
