I have known her since she was four. She is one of the smartest, funniest, soulful, insightful, quirky, caring people I know. And now she's got a byline. A real-deal byline. And I am prouder than proud can be. Not that I made her into a reporter, or really had anything to do with this directly, but I sort of did in that way that you do when you've known someone from the time they are little. You know that kind of pride. I am shepping nakhes, scooping up an abundance of pleasure in her accomplishment. You know, parentally. AND IT'S MADE ME SO VERY HAPPY.
As I've written before, my mother was the editor of our town paper for many years. I grew up inside, outside, and all around small town newspaper writing, deadlines, foibles, vulnerabilities, and dramas. One of my first jobs was as a sports stringer for the Worcester Telegram, which is not really the same thing, but it was the thing I knew how to do, from growing up in that environment.) The profession is near and dear to my heart, as is Isa. I truly couldn't be happier, and somehow the joy this brings feels pure and selfish—I suppose because the particular way that I am proud of Isa is rooted in our unique, particular relationship, and nobody else has that unique, particular relationship with Isa. But her byline (and her reporting and writing)? I am thrilled that she is sharing it with the world.