Good Morning My Little Birds,
How are you doing? I am sorry to have seemingly fallen off the face of the earth for the entire month of March. A few things led to the silence, the first being the war in Ukraine. I cannot believe the consistently vicious news coming day in and day out. The 109 strollers left on the plaza in Lviv to symbolize the 109 children who were killed. The dire conditions in Mauripol where citizens are now supposedly being moved to “camps” in Russia without access to food, water, or power. The fact that there is no clear end in sight. My heart breaks for Ukraine over and over again and any good news I get is weighed down by that stark reality. The one thing that I’ll say is that we must all keep going. Keep fundraising, keep donating, keep doing something, anything. I know that almost one month in, it’s easy to become completely immune to the media and to feel like in order to survive, you must block it out. Okay, I hear you. Go for a walk, watch a movie, drink a delicious coffee. But after you’ve rested and recollected yourself, do something. Post something to spread awareness. Donate another $5. Buy a box of bon-bons benefitting Ukraine (ty Marni). Check your house for medical supplies you could donate to a local drive. Whatever you do, don’t give up hope.
Earlier this week I was at the park talking with a friend who never stops to impress. She is from Moldova but immigrated to the U.S. several years ago. She has a small child, she has a PhD but now she is also studying for her MCAT. She wants to use computer science to build models that will literally help doctors to better understand and ultimately to cure cancer. I am not making this up. She is one of those invincible women. She told me that she signed up as a volunteer to help offer translation services to refugees crossing through Romania. In Romania, the language is the same as in Moldova, but no one speaks Russian. So for refugees who are arriving there, it’s absolutely impossible to communicate with anyone. She told me she was tired at the park, I asked why. She was up all night helping a 22-year old woman with a new baby cross the border into Romania, translating all of her requests to everyone from the bus driver to the host family accepting her from Russian into Romanian. The journey took several days and she was constantly on Telegram sending translated voice notes to this young refugee, who would in turn play them for the Romanians, who finally understood her. This woman, my friend, brought tears to my eyes. How good can one person be? You can be that good, I can be that good, we must all take inspiration from her and do more of what we can. We must not freeze and do nothing.
The second reason for my silence is because the startup that I worked for since October 2020 abruptly shut down last week. For privacy and legal reasons, I can’t share much more than this: Fridge No More is no more :( It is the strangest feeling to build something for a year and a half and to pour your heart into it, only to watch it come crumbling down like a misplaced block in a Jenga Tower. I have received an outpouring of love and support from colleagues and friends who ask about how I’m doing amidst the abrupt layoffs. The truth is: I’m fine.
I’m incredibly sad to say goodbye to my coworkers, the rockstar team that I built from scratch, who have become friends and whom I love as people dearly. I’m sad to say goodbye to the co-founders, who believed in me from the very first day. I’m sad to read customer comments on Twitter and Instagram about how disappointed they are that our business closed. But amidst all of that, the perspective of the events my family went through this last year makes a lay-off feel tolerable.
I lost my job, yes, but there are people running away from literal war. Losing their homes, leaving behind their identities, sometimes leaving behind family members who they may never see again. Losing their jobs while becoming refugees with nothing in their bags aside from some documents and maybe items of sentimental value.
I also think back to this time last year and again, perspective. Brandon, Reva and I had just re-located to California after my brother was diagnosed with leukemia. Life as I knew it was over and I was so overwhelmed with grief. As we packed our bags to move across the country with a 1-year old baby, I kept my mind occupied with logistics. Finding an apartment close to Eric and a daycare for Reva, figuring out how we would rent a car, and also wondering if we would want to stay in Los Angeles for good. I busied myself with shipping Vitamin C serum to our house in LA because if I didn’t, I could easily spend the entire day in bed, with the shades pulled down and the tears free flowing.
So now one year later, losing my job feels like a small nuisance in the grand scheme of things. I don’t for one second regret joining Fridge No More when I did. I do wish that things had turned out differently but in my gut, I trust that every single person from our company is going to use this experience as a stepping some for building an incredible career. I know that we will all find new jobs and I know that honestly, your job is only a very big part of your life when everything else is in complete balance.
The minute you have to run for your life, or fight for your health, or nurture someone you love back to health, or bring new life into this world, your job becomes a small part of your life. A blessing and a way to sustain your wallet and your brain and your family, but a small part of who you truly, at your core, are as a human being.
All that to say, the last few weeks have been a hamster wheel, and now, I’m going to get off it, at least for a few days, and take stock of my surroundings. Here’s what I wrote on the gram a few days ago:
I am grateful to have many simple reasons to smile today. A photo of my husband posing with a bunny rabbit. Morning coffee without the sounds of bombs or shelling, a warm bed, a hot shower, a free country. I am grateful that my daughter is safe and free to play in the park. I think about the children who have been cramped into basements for 11 days straight now and I hug my daughter tightly. I am thankful for my freedom in America, which I have probably taken for granted until this week. A few decades ago, had my family not been granted political asylum, I would have grown up in Kiev. I could be there right now. I read that the difference between anyone and a refugee is luck- and it’s so true. In the blink of an eye, one million people packed their lives into backpacks and ran. All their photos left behind, all their memories. In many cases, their husbands left behind to fight for freedom. To fight for the simple right to exist. I am grateful for all of the good in people that has come out during this horrendously sad time in humanity. I am grateful for the Polish mothers who left strollers for refugees at the train station. For the firefighter who carried a newborn to safety. For the ordinary people mobilizing against the aggressor to feed citizens and bring them hot tea and fresh pirozhki. For doctors who traveled from across the world into the line of fire to save lives, despite the incredible risks for their own life. For organizers of aid, for non-profits, for angels on the ground and afar. I am waiting for the moment that we can say that good won over evil. That light always wins and that darkness will not suffocate the light. I’m praying for peace and hugging my daughter extra tight these days.
Let’s all think about how we can contribute more and be good people. Be kind people. Be generous people. I believe in me and in us 💖 and as my husband says, WAGMI (We Are Gonna Make It)
P.S: Happy birthday to my brother Eric! Today he is 26 and celebrating his birthday in California, feeling good, looking great, still patting me on the head and being his quirky self. What a difference a year can make. I love you!
Biggest hugs,
Jane
As always your writing is touches me to the tiniest little molecules! What a year it was but I’m so proud of us ! Love you and only good things ahead 🙏 💛💙