Protect the Vote

SCOTUS plays a dangerous game with the Voting Rights Act ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌


Three Questions About...Getting Fired

No shame in getting shitcanned, say Laura Brown and Kristina O’Neill 

By Cindi Leive

Getting unceremoniously sacked has always been an occupational hazard for magazine editors; back in the 1980s, Vogue’s Grace Mirabella reportedly found out she’d been let go when she heard it on the TV show Live at Five. But when it happened to Laura Brown (the former head of InStyle) and Kristina O’Neill (of WSJ Magazine), they eventually realized that, to quote Nora Ephron, everything is copy. These two friends (and, full disclosure, friends of mine) sat down to write a book about the experience: All the Cool Girls Get Fired, in which everyone from Oprah to Jane Fonda tell their own pink-slip stories.

It couldn’t be better timed. Earlier this fall I ran into an acquaintance on the subway and was telling her about the book. We noticed a woman next to us leaning close. “I”m sorry,” she said, “would you mind saying the name of that book again? I need it.”

In case you do too, here are three questions for the authors.

My first question is, the book is All the Cool Girls—not all the cool boys—Get Fired. So I'm curious—how is the experience of getting fired for women different than it is for men? Obviously, it happens to them too.

Kristina O’Neill: We noticed that there was a universality around the shame and the embarrassment and the disappointment that women respond to this sort of life event with. We noticed that a lot of men, if it has happened to them, it almost becomes part of their armor and part of their narrative—I mean, Steve Jobs, Mike Bloomberg, they made getting fired part of their entire work journey. Whereas when we sat down to write this book, we couldn't easily identify women who, after having been fired, owned it. It does seem like women have a harder time just saying what happened to them and moving on psychologically.

Laura Brown: I asked [human resources pro] Bucky Keady: Why does it hit so much harder [for women]? And in one second she said, “Because it took so much longer to get there. It took us so much longer to get into that room.” So many of us feel shame and wallow. But it’s futile. And you have a community, but you're not going to find the community unless you put your hand up: Actually, me too. That happened to me as well. And then, God, that's a help. That's such a relief. But you have to speak up.

Whose story of being fired surprised you, or made you see their career differently?

KO: We were really struck by how many women hadn't talked about it before. Katie Couric, for example, kept saying, Well, they didn't renew my contract, and it was almost like a revelation in the conversation when I think it sort of dawned on her, like, Yeah, I guess I was getting fired! We [also] talked to a sports agent, Lindsay Colas, who’s brilliant and who literally got Brittney Griner out of prison in Russia, and another client called her after she got Brittney out of jail and said [something to the effect of], “You haven't been paying enough attention to us, we're going to go with a different agency!”

So fired looks different for everybody: the language around it, the experience, the aftermath. But the universal thing is you feel like shit.

LB: One of my favorite stories was from Tarana Burke; she was running an organization in Philly and she was comfortable there. Then she got fired. And in all this time, me too was sort of lying dormant in her head. So when she was fired, she was then allowed to open her mind to proceed with that. She said, I kept thinking, You've been carrying other people's visions to fruition for too long. And she was able to carry her own.

How much did you know about Oprah’s firing [from her job as co-anchor of the Baltimore evening news] before interviewing her?

LB: We knew the story a little, but again—it wasn’t the [big narrative] about her. She should be on the fired Mt. Rushmore with Steve Jobs and Mike Bloomberg and everyone else! When we talked to her, her memory of the firing was like muscle memory. It was so visceral. [“I really have never talked about it,” says Oprah in the book.] She remembered what the managing director of the TV network was drinking. She remembered it was April Fools’ day, and she thought it was an April Fools’ joke. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, she remembered all these things because sadly—it's almost like with Instagram comments when you remember the negative one and you forget all the nice ones. And Oprah got upset about it anew, but she was us. She was ashamed to tell her dad, she was ashamed she lost her job. But her story reminds you that [getting fired] fires up your dreams too.

KO: If it hadn't happened to her, she would've never been in the prime position to be put up for that talk show. 

LB: Oprah told us, The setback is a setup. It's so tidy, but it's absolutely true: That thing that knocks you down can spring you back.


6,870 Book Bans

 

And the surprising reason they're happening ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌


An "Invasion" at Home

Operation Midway Blitz is everyone's problem ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌


Good Abortion News Still Exists

Plus: the Life of a Showgirl (Fonda’s Version) ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌


An Abortion Ban That's "Just So Vile"

Plus: what's next for Eric Adams ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌


"A revolution has begun. There is no going back."

On the anniversary of the Beijing women’s conference, a blueprint for a brighter future


Thirty years ago this month, women from around the world gathered for a conference that made history and, as it turned out, would not happen again. The 1995 UN Fourth World Conference on Women in Beijing was a monumental moment for activists and world leaders who came together to “answer the call of billions of women who have lived, and of billions of women who will live,” as the first female Prime Minister of Norway, Gro Harlem Brundtland, put it at the time. It’s the meeting at which then-First Lady Hillary Rodham Clinton, building on years of women’s organizing, famously said, “Women’s rights are human rights,” which made global news because it was (and apparently remains) a radical perspective. 

The journey to the conference—which is documented in a new multimedia project from the United Nations Foundation and co-produced by The Meteor—was two decades long, with previous meetings held in Mexico City, Copenhagen, and Nairobi. Beijing itself was the largest women’s rights gathering at that point in history, with a massive audience of 45,000 people invested in building a better future. Pulling it off was no small task, but the leaders charged with doing so were more than up to it. Among them was the inimitable Gertrude Mongella of Tanzania, the Secretary-General of the conference, who later became known as Mama Beijing. “A revolution has begun,” she said during a closing speech at the Conference, “there is no going back.”

 

Mongella was a key player in producing the Beijing conference’s most significant document: The Beijing Declaration and Platform for Action—which remains the most comprehensive blueprint for gender equality and women’s rights ever created. It wasn’t just a wish list; 189 countries committed to it in Beijing. It demanded women’s inclusion in government and policymaking; economic policies built with gender in mind; the understanding that violence against women is a human rights violation; and was also one of the first international agreements to demand that governments complete a thorough analysis of how climate change and industrialization had affected women. From the Platform: “The continuing environmental degradation that affects all human lives has often a more direct impact on women…Those most affected are rural and Indigenous women, whose livelihood and daily subsistence depends directly on sustainable ecosystems.” 

You probably know how this ends: While some of the Platform’s key goals have been achieved—women’s representation in government, for instance, has risen—many have yet to be fulfilled, 30 years later, not because of an absence of activism, but because of global backlash and competing priorities. But the women at the forefront of global change remain motivated. When asked what the next global feminist conference should focus on, Nyasha Musandu of the Alliance for Feminist Movements put it this way: “We must dare to dream bigger, disrupt deeper, and build bridges across movements. The fight for justice is not just about breaking barriers—it’s about reimagining the world itself.”


The ICE Stories We Don't See on Camera

Plus: a historic gathering remembered ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌


Does RFK Jr. Know the Scientific Method?

Doubtful ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌


It’s Time to Rethink the “Empty Nest” 

Author Tembi Locke talks about the grief, joy, and evolution of sending a child out into the world 

By Rebecca Carroll  

When I was a budding young feminist growing up in the 80s, I would occasionally hear adults use the term “empty-nest syndrome” to describe the experience parents go through when their children leave home for college. The narrative around it was always very gendered, and usually homed in on the loss of identity for the mother: Who even was she without her children at home? I remember thinking, both judgmentally and naively, “Oh my god! Your children are not your identity! Women are more than just mothers!” I also thought it was a classist assumption that all kids go to college, but whatever. 

Decades later, as I find myself going through this experience myself (my son just started his third year of college), I’ve come to realize that “empty-nest syndrome” is not about whether or not your kids are your identity, but rather, the complex shift in dynamic that happens when your children leave home, and the overwhelming sense of grief that can come along with it. 

Lucky for me, and all of us, bestselling author Tembi Locke has a new audiobook memoir, Someday, Now, that is about precisely this. Locke’s first memoir, From Scratch, which was adapted into a Netflix miniseries starring Zoe Saldaña, followed her experience as a young woman studying abroad in Florence, where she falls in love with an Italian chef, marrying him, and then losing him to a rare form of cancer when their adopted daughter Zoela is just seven. Someday, Now picks up after more than a decade of Locke single-parenting Zoela, and it’s the summer before she’s about to leave for college. The two take a trip back to Italy together to prepare, reimagine, and find joy in the culture and comfort of extended family in another country. I was delighted to sit down with Locke to talk about this period of life that is often so swiftly dismissed, especially for women.

Lock and Saldaña at the premiere of "From Scratch." (via Getty Images)


Rebecca Carroll: What are your feelings about the actual term “empty nest”? 

Tembi Locke: I rebuke the word “empty” because nothing about my life is empty. Not my spirit, not my relationship with my child. And I’m not going to characterize my life with an adjective that starts with “empty.” I choose instead to take this time to think about what is full in my life, and what I would like to invite back into my life. I didn’t rush into a bunch of hobbies. I didn’t rush into a Zumba class. I just needed to hang out in the question and see what would emerge.

What do you think people get wrong about navigating this time in our lives as parents?

That there is a-one-solution-fits-all. Like, “Okay, I’ll cry. I’ll have my feelings the first month or so. And then I guess it just all kind of resolves itself in some way.” There’s this sense of not slowing down to acknowledge the depth, the tectonic shifts that are happening. I had a work colleague who said something along the lines of, “Oh, well, now you'll just have more free time, you can do more work!” And I was like, “I am so sorry. I lean way the hell out of that thought.” I actually need to slow down and really take inventory before I proceed.

I was so struck by the way you connected your grief about Zoela leaving with your grief over losing your husband. When my son left for college, it almost felt like a sick joke: Having this child of my body was such a balm, and then 18 years later, he leaves? I was not prepared for the sudden grief. Why don’t we ever talk about that emotion?  

We’ve mostly lacked the language and rituals to process in those terms. Our children go off, and then it’s suddenly like, “Wait, what the hell just happened?” Because I have had the direct experience of grief before, I was like, “This feels eerily similar in my body.” So in a way that made me perhaps more acutely attuned to name it. 

You talk in the book about making certain choices around what feelings to share with your daughter and which to save for your therapist…

What’s funny is, the first summer she came back, that’s when I realized, “Oh, it’s not just about us being apart and then coming back together.” That’s when the actual renegotiation of the relationship really began, because I understood that the child who left is gone now. I remember saying to her, “I’m not a roommate, I’m actually the person who will be up at night thinking about your safety at a certain hour.” I was trying to keep the long vision in mind, because for 18 years, my job was to rush in to some degree, fix things. But that’s not the role now. I also realized that feelings I experienced as my younger self were activated by my child leaving—and that is the work of a therapist to unravel.

My son and I were very close when he was younger, in part, I’m sure, because he knows that I am adopted, and he understood how important his biological connection is to me. Now there’s this letting go that feels like abandonment. I can’t not express sorrow…and yet, I don’t want to make him feel bad.   

I try to pre-process some things for myself before I open my mouth. I was experiencing it, as I say in the book, with a tinge of maybe even shame. Like, how can I use the word “abandonment”? How is a child abandoning a parent? 

To the idea of pre-processing—the summer before my son went off to college, I had two TV writing projects in the pipeline, which I had planned would keep me very happily distracted. Then the writer’s strike happened, and suddenly, I had a lot of time on my hands. I would have missed him anyway, of course, but without work to busy myself, I was almost paralyzed by his absence. It was bad. I couldn’t even look at his favorite foods in the grocery store. How do we reconcile these feelings without also experiencing, as you said, some measure of shame?

One of the things that I needed to do as a mother after Zoela left home was to actively bookend every difficult, challenging, or fearful thought with an acknowledgement of the hard work, the joy, and the sense of security that we had co-created together. I even did a ritual for myself to acknowledge those 18 years, because as a solo mom and a widowed parent, there were a lot of challenges.

What was the ritual?

I did 40 days of journaling where I just set aside time each day, lit a candle, and I just wrote to the idea of…motherhood. I carved out space to allow whatever would come up around the topic of this beautiful life experience I had that wasn't done yet. It was shifting, but it’s not done. Motherhood doesn’t end. But it is changing.