Member-only story
Write a Letter
Penpals may save you
Everything sucks, yes? We’ve activated our activism for so long and, FOR WHAT? I gave money, wrote postcards, signed petitions, made calls, voted(!), prayed to gods I don’t know or recognize (and who surely don’t know or recognize me). Now, I’m sitting in my winter-shrouded house in a dark, frozen mood, writing letters to near strangers. Because the best thing about these last mad years — pandemic years, death-of-democracy years, years of unrivaled loss, sadness, rage, and anxiety — has been the mail. A habit of correspondence brings joy and a sort of peace that’s lacking in this untethered world, anchoring me in place, rooting me in my own life, forcing me to slow down and pay attention.
I tentatively joined writer Rachel Syme’s #penpalooza early in the pandemic, if only just to “feel something,” as the kids say. Rachel’s Twitter (RIP 💔) was a riot of joy, with book recs, playlists, bath talk, perfume, and poetry. Deep dives on tea, fashion, film, and shopping — a perfect mix of intellectual observation, culture guidance, and buzzy gossip. Rachel was our cruise director, entertaining us on the high plague seas. With Penpalooza, her online penpal exchange, she connected more than 10,000 of us from over 50 countries in a season of isolation. Nothing short of magic.
