Chuck, my mom, Elizabeth and me at Lancaster Castle, UK (the trip we scheduled instead of Italy) I am a former politician who has worked in education for the last nearly twenty years, so I am not a medical expert. But, I had a baptism in virus, infection, and immune systems last year that gives me a unique perspective on the coronavirus debate as a wife and mother. I also was the Governor (acting Governor if you want) during 9-11, and my husband and I had just invested significant savings into a small business in 2008/9, so I also have some experience with fear-induced recessions from multiple perspectives. I've been reflecting on those personal and professional experiences as I've tried to give counsel to those making difficult coronavirus decisions. I have also had to make some hard coronavirus decisions recently. And, I've seen a lot of debate - particularly on parent-Facebook pages for colleges - around the decisions being made by college leaders on the coronavir

 As we do the last few loads of laundry, make sure everything is packed and I try to keep myself calm for #twincollegedropoff this coming week(s), I realized that I had not yet done the most important thing: Thank all the teachers who have undoubtedly worked to prepare my girls academically for the challenges ahead. For sure, Chuck and I take credit for a lot and I am (and will post liberally on this) incredibly proud of their compassion, kindness, resilience, curiosity, thoughtfulness, grace and many, many talents. But they are also extremely well prepared. And that is not something I take lightly. Just about 35 years ago, my parents -- who also rightfully took enormous pride in my accomplishments -- dropped me off at Trinity College. Many of you have heard that the experiences I had on that day and the days that followed have been the motivation for my professional commitment to public service and particularly to improving educational excellence and opportunity for all students. Be

Having had a tumultuous and emotional winter of serious illness (Chuck), family loss (death of my dad) and professional transitions (leaving my Executive role at UMA) I took the challenging step of 'giving up' social media for Lent. As a practicing Catholic, alcohol and chocolate/dessert are my go-to lenten offerings. In recent years I have also tried to set a more internal goal around patience, faith, grace, being present. With everything going on this year, I decided that taking myself off social media (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram -- I excused myself from LinkedIn for professional necessity and some may have noticed I was a little more active on that platform than usual) might help me be more present and more reflective. I also knew, truth be told, that I was having some really powerful emotions and while I also did not drink during Lent, even sober I was finding that grief was lifting what little filter I have left. It has been a really interesting experiment. I discovere

My family and I have had a pretty tough run this winter. Yet, I know I am so blessed. It is so weird to have a life event that just about every human being experiences (the obvious exception being one my husband has endured of a parent burying their child) and to discover that while you have observed it, and you thought you knew or could appreciate the experience, you really had no clue at all. That is how I feel this week with the death of my Dad. My husband Chuck lost his mom before we met (young) and I helped him through the death of his father. But, I didn't actually know. And, as I have previously confessed, I often struggle to capture the depth of certain emotions and experiences. So, I am not going to try to explain what it feels like -- because I have come to believe that until you have been here you really don't know. And what has also occurred to me is that you also will never know if how you feel is how others feel. I use the word 'feel' intentionally. On

I was reminded recently of why there are so many adages about something good coming out of something bad -- "making lemonade out of lemons" or "every cloud has a silver lining" just to name two. Our family encountered an unexpected bump in the road over the past month when Chuck (my husband) became quite ill. Chuck was extremely fortunate to receive a donor kidney last August and had a fairly remarkable and easy recovery from that surgery. But somewhere along the way we now know, with his suppressed immune system, he picked up a common virus -- adenovirus -- which when contracted by a immuno-suppressed individual can be quite serious. (If you don't believe me, Google it, which I should not  have done in the midst of his hospitalization!) The challenge with this particular virus was that the most common treatment for a patient whose immune system cannot fight the virus off is an antiviral drug that is toxic to kidneys. Like many medical decisions, the ones the

Twenty one years ago, as the first wave of the Title Nine generation, I was schocked to discover as I worked (campaigned) through my first pregnancy how many unresolved issues remained in the United States regarding the issues around family and work. Naive for sure. Many articles, scars and three nearly grown daughters later and some days I feel like I am Bill Murray living my own "Ground Hog" day movie. Yet, a few days ago fellow board members -- all older white men -- solicited my advice and invited my thoughts (genuinely and with great interest) regarding diversity, inclusion and how to insure that our very traditional company could stay current in an era where the imperative for younger workers, investors and regulatory agencies all place great importance on these very issues. I can only hope that the tipping point has finally come and I believe the force behind that much needed change can be found in market and demographic forces that are documented in this New York Ti