The People Project

After finishing college, I babysat a lot. I got gigs from families in our neighborhood and my mom set me up with some of her colleagues in need of child-care. One weekend afternoon, I visited the home of my mom’s coworker, his wife, and infant. They wanted to show me the ropes and make sure I was comfortable taking care of their baby before they left her alone with me in the evenings. It was also an opportunity for us to get to know each other better. As we were chatting, the mother asked me what I wanted to do now that I had graduated. I think I told her I wasn’t 100% sure but had some different ideas. She asked me what I was passionate about—a question that surprised me but which elicited a response that took little thought or effort.

“People,” I replied, almost automatically.

She smiled and told me that that was a good thing to be passionate about. 

And it was true. Though it came from me like an eructation, it’s probably the truest thing about me. I have always been fascinated by other people’s stories and felt drawn to understanding people on a deeper level. I care sincerely about the welfare of other human beings and have long believed that you can learn from pretty much anyone you encounter. How and why people do what they do interests me and I love getting to the heart of who a person is and how their character motivates and influences them. In short, I am and have always been in awe of humanity.  

But what kind of career do you make out of the passion for and preoccupation with people? 

At the time of that conversation, I had just received a BA in Writing but was considering a pivot to a career in mental health. I took one graduate course in community counseling and it didn’t enthuse me. I volunteered with a local domestic violence nonprofit and found that of all the tasks I did for them—grant writing, helping organize events, working with kids staying in their shelters, and answering the helpline—the duties that involved talking to the program’s women and children inspired me the most. After working as a nanny for a few months, I left for a year-long service program in Denver where I served as a volunteer teacher. There, I discovered that I loved to teach. When I came home, I decided to fully redirect my attention to the field of education—I attained my graduate degree in early childhood education and began an almost decade-long career as a preschool and primary grades teacher. 

Children are simply little people, and this career path sated my desire to immerse myself in the lives and stories of others for at least a little while. 

In 2022, I became unable to teach after the development of several chronic illnesses. Though I will always love teaching and believe I excel at it, it takes so much energy that I found I no longer have. I have no idea if I will ever regain the kind of fervor that it takes to run a first grade class. There are days where I long for it and miss it deeply but I also recognize that I do not have the physical or mental capacity to do that job right now. I remember my best days in the classroom where I was bopping around like the energizer bunny on methamphetamines, excited to watch six year olds’ eyes light up as they grasped the concepts of addition or compound words or the water cycle. I think back on the long hours I spent dedicated to my job—planning, lesson prepping, communicating with parents, grading, conflict managing, assessing, collaborating with other teachers, copying, organizing, cleaning, decorating, filing, etc etc etc—all the many seen and unseen tasks any lead classroom teacher is responsible for. Just thinking about that kind of workload exhausts me now. I miss conversations with eager students and engaged parents. I miss all the colorful school supplies and putting funny stickers on my students’ classwork. I miss reading picture books, singing silly songs, and making up games to entertain little minds. And I remember “teacher tired.” I used to say there was no tired like “teacher tired.” But let me tell you, “chronic illness tired” trumps “teacher tired” a thousand fold. 

Teaching ignited in me a spark and excitement that few other tasks or jobs have. The only exception may be writing. 

Though I studied writing as an undergrad, I had not planned to make a career out of it until very recently. I have always loved to write and have long known that I am a talented wordsmith. This was even remarked upon and taken advantage of during my time as a teacher—people would comment on my newsletters, emails, and reports, and I was asked to assist with multiple different writing and editing projects around the school. I did some personal writing on the side but teaching took up 98% of my time and brain-space so I didn’t really have the time or enthusiasm to sit down and write unless it was work-related. 

Since leaving teaching, I have been piecing together part-time work to keep myself busy and supplement my husband’s income. I tutored for a while but after a year or two, as my illnesses continued to progress, I found that I couldn’t be as reliable or consistent a tutor as was needed. I had been doing some freelance writing in addition to tutoring, and I found this to suit my current circumstances better: freelance work tends to be a little more flexible and I can do it remotely. So, I decided to focus my energies there. I also began working on writing for personal purposes again, and found that I had really missed it. Now that I had the time to write and hone my craft more regularly, it became obvious to me what shape I wanted the rest of my career to take. 

In the last few years, one of the main things I have been writing about, both professionally and personally, is the lives of other people. One of my primary freelancing jobs has been working for a local private school’s alumni department—writing pieces for their newsletter and magazine on alumni doing interesting, story-worthy things. I’ve also picked up some profile-writing work for local newspapers. In these people-centered pieces, I have had the opportunity to sit down and talk with a variety of men and women and write about their lives. Some of the stories I’ve had the privilege to write featured: a professional rock climber who began her own health food company; a young singer-songwriter who made it through several rounds of the American TV competition The Voice; a young fashion designer and model who began her own sustainable clothing line; a former professional football player turned college scout for the Washington Commanders; an editor for The New York Times who specialized in obituary writing; and a father who turned the loss of his son to fentanyl into advocacy and hope through national outreach programs. 

Though some of my article subjects have national platforms or high-paying careers, all of their stories boil down to one bottom line: the intriguing nature of the human experience. I love working with people from different walks of life and finding what makes their stories worth reading. This got me thinking: I don’t have to wait for a paid project to write this kind of piece. There are so many people out there—people I already know—who have fascinating and engaging stories. And as far as I know, they aren’t being told. So, I thought, maybe I should tell them. 

To begin this project, I have recruited two friends of mine, generous with their time and voices, who will be featured as the first official posts on this blog. In the month of March, you will read about a hospital chaplain who specializes in organ donation and how her career path and own profound experiences of grief and loss have intertwined. You will also read about a Nevada real estate agent who, in his spare time, coaches a special needs youth hockey team and how he has revitalized that program for his players. I am hopeful in later months that you will continue to read and find yourself absorbed in the stories of others whose lives are at once mundanely human and completely captivating. 

I look forward to providing you these stories and hope to feature two monthly. We will see where this project goes, and if you’re keen, I’d love for you to come along for the ride. 

I would like to bid you an official welcome, dear reader, to The People Project: Ordinary People. Extraordinary Stories.