I’ve found a surprising level of community through my workplace, a neighborhood vegetarian restaurant that has been around since the 60’s. They’ve survived gentrification, and many of the families who lived in the same area have since moved out to more affordable hoods. Yet people keep coming back to eat at our restaurant, knowing its a place where image isn’t everything. I work weekdays, and many of my customers are regulars who I now know by name. Lynn who likes her coffee with milk instead of cream, Phil and John who are both servers in another restaurant but who come to hang out at ours, Betty who likes a double americano with a side of steamed milk, and many others. As I remember their faces, names, and food preferences, they also ask about my life. Most of them know I’m in the gruelling process of applying to PhD programs, and I’m touched by how regularly they ask how I’m doing. I’m surprised by how simple it is: say hi, be nice, remember what people like, and most of the time its offered back to you. I like that. It makes me feel like the world is a good place to be, a lot of the time. Hard, but good too.

Atticus, we just liked the name. I first fell in love with it while watching Paradise for the first time, because Elijah Wood was the cutest little boy ever. I really, really liked that movie. It has to be 15 years now since I saw it.

Recently my younger son, now in his last year of preschool, and I were at a classmate’s birthday party in Golden Gate Park. I got him to agree to leave the bouncy house and eat some food, and we got him a plate from the overflowing potluck table, then I looked around at the multiple picnic blankets and said, “pick any blanket you want, you just have to sit down while you’re eating. I’m going to go get myself a plate.” It felt like a moment of safety and community that is rare in the modern world.

It requires more effort than a regular preschool, but it has been worth every minute - and every penny saved.