Dear John,
If there’s one thing you learn when you work with Professor Reich (whom I am fortunate enough to now call Bob) for as many years as I have, it’s that he never stops! He generates an incredible amount of compelling content, including for us at Inequality Media Civic Action, his social media accounts, and for a number of partner groups we work with on specific campaigns.
But none of what Bob writes is more personal and timely than his daily Substack newsletter. He uses his Substack in a way that’s different from social media, and other platforms. For his Substack newsletter and community blog, Bob writes commentary on the news of the day often in real time. And it’s a community, so he dives into the comments to share his thoughts and hear your feedback, too.
It’s not all politics and policy though. He combines his writing with playful sketches (yes, he does them himself!) and every Sunday does a cartoon caption contest. He provides direct access to his coursework, holds regular “office hours,” and is always testing out new ways to connect and engage. Here’s the deal: joining the Substack is completely free, but for just $50 for the whole year, you can help support the work that goes into creating it and get some extra perks, too. We’d love to have you join us in any capacity. Will you sign up as a subscriber for Bob’s daily Substack newsletter now?
That’s my two cents’ worth, but providing an example of what you’re missing might be even more helpful, so I wanted to share with you a powerfully personal post from Bob about his upcoming “retirement” from teaching. (Note that this means we at Inequality Media Civic Action will get even more of his time!)
Check it out below and then, if you like it, join us and become a subscriber today.
Thanks for being a supporter of Robert Reich and Inequality Media Civic Action. It’s an honor to work alongside all of you.
Heather Kinlaw Lofthouse
Executive Director, Inequality Media Civic Action
The truth I've been hiding from myself
- Robert Reich -
Friends,
Ever since word got out that I’ll be retiring from teaching at the end of this semester, people have been asking me what I’ll be doing next?
I try to respond politely, but the question annoys the hell out of me.
I’m reminded of singer-songwriter Willie Nelson’s response to a fan who asked him when he’ll be retiring: “Retiring from what?”
Most people who “retire” usually stop what they call “working” and begin what they call “playing.”
But what if your work is also your play? What if it’s your calling? What if it’s deeply meaningful to you? What if you don’t want to do less of it?
I’m one of the lucky ones. Most Americans don’t especially enjoy what they do on the job. My father spent most of his working life anxious about earning enough for his family to live on. The moment he turned 65 he stopped working and began collecting Social Security, and he spent the next 31 years playing golf.
The original meaning of the word “retire” was to find a secluded or private place. Judges still order juries to “retire” to consider a verdict.
This doesn’t describe what I’m doing, either. The last thing I’m looking for is seclusion.
So why am I retiring from teaching?
I love teaching. I’ve been at it for 42 years. But it seemed better to quit when I’m still able to give students what they deserve. I owe it to them to do it well.
[A few of my graduate student teaching assistants]
Yet I’ll miss it. Teaching is the most generative thing I’ve done in my life, apart from being a father.
I had my yearly doctor’s appointment yesterday. My doctor is a young woman, not much older than many of my graduate students. Everything checked out fine. When she asked me what was new in my life, I told her I was about to retire from teaching. She congratulated me. I burst into tears.
I’d been hiding from myself just how much I’ll miss it.
Retirement is often confused with aging, but I think the relationship is the reverse. Meaningful work -- work that’s more play than work -- can lead to a longer life. As Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. -- poet, writer, educator, and physician -- once said, people “do not quit playing because they grow old; they grow old because they quit playing.”
I won’t any longer be teaching entire courses, but I won’t quit playing.
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