Marcia Sells ’81, P’23 returns to her performing arts roots as the Metropolitan Opera’s first chief diversity officer.
Agatha Christie looks forward to welcoming classmates to her beautiful guest home, which is located on an island off the coast of Devon. The house is cut off from the mainland and has no internet service — how cozy! She writes to us: “Please do not bring your work or any electronic devices that may have geolocation capabilities. This weekend is all about reconnecting with old friends, communing with nature, and feeling like someone is picking us off, one by one. I also ask that classmates bring extra layers in case the sense of impending doom sends chills down your spine.”
Charlotte Brontë recently moved out to the country for a change of pace. She has been nannying for a brooding, tempestuous fellow who did not appreciate her asking about the noises coming from the third floor. Despite this, she found the work to be fun and meaningful and is excited to announce that she is now happily engaged to her employer (long story!). She hopes to hear from classmates who may have housing leads in the area because the couple’s former residence is unavailable, due to the fiancé’s first wife burning it to the ground.
Jane Austen has been keeping busy attending lots of weddings, playing matchmaker, and dancing with suitors who may only be interested in her family’s inheritance, as well as playing piano for family, playing piano for friends, and playing piano for friends of her family. She will be attending law school in the fall with the hope that she can finally figure out how to get her name on her family’s lease agreement.
Isabel Allende has been spending her summer in the lush, enchanted region of Bushwick, where every night, she escapes into the exquisite landscape that is her fire escape. It is the only place she can find solace from her noisy roommates, who keep fighting over the remote control or practicing the ukulele. She looks forward to hosting big, convivial dinners, where the air is thick with the fragrance of herbs and oil, and stories are passed and shared, and she can open her doors to her family, both alive and phantasmal, as long as they don’t mind listening to that one guy practice his ukelele all night.
Lorraine Hansberry sent us a note to announce that she wants to fly! She wants to touch the sun! But first she has to answer that age-old question that all recent college grads wrestle with: Should I go to grad school?
Virginia Woolf is keeping busy buying the flowers herself.
Zora Neale Hurston dropped a line to say that there are years that ask questions, and years that answer, and then there are years that must answer the question “Do all these anthropology books in my house still spark joy?”
Colette recently shared, “This is the dangerous lucid hour. The time after graduation. The gaping maw that stands before you and your first entry-level job. Whose face will I meet at the next virtual networking hour? Whose brain can I pick on LinkedIn? With some bit of luck, some miracle will mend again the necklace of my days, and I will find a finance job to support my improv comedy.”
Louisa May Alcott is residing in Concord, Massachusetts, where she spends her days writing, walking, and listening to her favorite podcasts about transcendentalism.
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley writes to say that “we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another, so please do connect with me on LinkedIn.”
Emily Dickinson is delighted to welcome a beautiful baby poem.