Betty was the much-adored youngest of Irwin and Myrtle Thompson’s four children, vivacious and curious from the start. She was the first in her family to attend college, a proud member of Kappa Kappa Gamma sorority and a Daughter of the American Revolution, volunteer for many nonprofits, and a devoted wife and mother of four.
The official family story is that Betty met her darling Jack on a blind date after World War II and Jack, who served on a PT boat in the Pacific, then told his buddies he knew he would marry her. But she loved to share…
All day long, my phone tells me about the latest sexual-harassment allegations. Harvey Weinstein, Louis C.K., Roy Moore. The #metoo and #believeher campaigns. And the brave, difficult news investigations being published under tremendous pressure.
It feels like a tipping point. At least I hope it is.
The well-meaning, earnest, thoughtful men in our lives ask us: “Has that happened to you?”
Here’s what I say: #allofus #everysingleone.
In my 20s, my boss’-boss’-boss’ boss called me to his sprawling office, where, with his shiny shoes on the desk, said, “Your column needs a…
When I flew to Phoenix the week I became publisher, the first thing people wanted to ask me about was the future. What were my plans? Where were we headed?
To do that, I want to tell you something from the past.
It’s a moment from a decade ago, the moment when I chose to really do this thing — to be a publisher — to do what my mother still thinks is too crazy and stressful, even if she’s really proud.
Because in my first days as a publisher, there was a moment when I was challenged to quit…
Thank you for being a part of shining a light on fighting a monster so mighty that many don’t even speak of it, yet certainly it has touched all of us.
Health problems caused from loneliness in adults cost us nearly $7B a year. And the number of children visiting ERs related to suicide *doubled* between 2007 and 2015, a price beyond dollars.
I have known the monster called mental illness as long as I can remember.
I was four the only time I asked about the Polaroid on the dashboard of my grandmother’s Volvo. “That’s your Uncle Danny. …
I read recently that we’d all be better off if we treated our weekends like mini-vacations rather than time to catch up on laundry.
Seems simple. While I consider myself smarter than the average bear, I stink at self-care. And so do most of those most precious to me. My girlfriends are the type who will drop everything for everyone but themselves.
I love them for this. I can resemble this remark. My idea of “taking time for myself” typically looks like this: “Babe, I’m so sorry, I’m going to sneak out and snag a manicure. …
The #AppleEvent headlines are asking what it means for Netflix or gaming or credit cards or mocking how long the event lasted.
Me? As each product was announced, I got queasier.
Because being distracted by how hokey and inauthentic the extended sales pitch might be, you could miss this: Apple has won the Attention Economy.
They were already products, services, hardware — so gigantic that many are simply mocking the announcements or deriding Apple for getting away from who the critics think Apple is.
I don’t think they get it.
Being in a billion pockets wasn’t enough. Attention is finite…
She was the goddess of war and of wisdom. A contradiction that is meaningful and powerful and feminine.
As women, we draw power in the strength and simultaneous contradiction of that small and simple word: “AND.”
We bring home the bacon and fry it up in the pan.
We run companies and care for our families.
We suffer crushing miscarriages and get out of bed and tend to our jobs and our aging parents.
We deal with the pain of depression or arthritis or cancer and put a smile on our faces to reach out a hand to others.
She left everything she knew for a country she’d only seen on a map, to live with strangers, speak a new language, so she could have those privileges.
I am the granddaughter of a man who was an orphan born in what is now North Korea. He was an early convert to Christianity in a country where that was illegal. He was a pastor who was imprisoned and tortured nearly to death by a racist, anti-Christian government that had no freedom of religion.
I am the niece of a human rights activist, who advocated on behalf of women stolen and…
I’ve spent more than half my life in newspapers — they’ve been my passion, my purpose, my bedrock.
The week I left newspapers, I watched the Steven Spielberg love letter, The Post, in which a lifelong hero of mine gives voice — first in a whisper — to that passion. She puts everything she has on the line for that purpose.
The week I spent my last day as a newspaper publisher, I wept as I watched Washington Post Publisher Katharine Graham be braver than most can imagine for a purpose not everyone appreciates.
Although this is a personal story…