Finding hope through fiction

Children's literature to help us roll up our sleeves—when it is tempting to just throw up our hands. (With apologies for the slightly long personal essay this week.)

Professional hunters of hope

It’s not my place nor my intention to comment extensively on current affairs in these newsletters, but it’s also hard to think about much else this week. The déjà vu is painful.

In 2016 I was working at an independent girls’ school in Melbourne. During the week of the US election in November, I was away on a school trip—hiking and camping without any reception. When we finally emerged back into civilisation, my phone started beeping with frantic texts from my partner and friends, alerting me to the fact that Trump had won. At first, I genuinely thought they were joking. Like many other people around the world, I couldn’t quite believe it. The fact that I happened to experience the shock several days later somehow made it cut even deeper.

The teachers and students I was with received the news at the same time, and surprised murmurs broke out. I couldn’t help it, I started crying. Only a bit. It was overwhelming. I couldn’t hold it in.

One of the teachers, a ma…