What I Hope

I recently reread the piece I wrote to introduce myself as the new editor of The Swarthmorean back when I first took the job. In it, I said that in the nearly 20 years since I’d moved to town,

I have looked forward every week to getting the paper. Even as I came to know my neighbors, get drawn into local organizations, and see my kids’ procession from first grade at SRS all the way through the high school, I have counted on The Swarthmorean to inform me, enliven me, and help me feel connected.

When I pictured myself doing this job, I imagined talking to interesting residents, attending borough council meetings, wandering through our stores and gossiping with merchants and shoppers, then going home and trying to capture these encounters in words so readers could experience what I had learned and felt. Despite the pandemic’s upending of so many in-person encounters, that is what I’ve tried to do.

I’ve done my best to introduce you to neighbors you wouldn’t otherwise have met, make hours-long school board meetings into engaging reading, and share thoughts on yearly markers like graduation, Election Day, Juneteenth, and Hanukkah. I recruited writers to report on local happenings, to make you laugh, to inquire into what you’re thinking, and to scratch the insatiable local itch for gardening information. I never did get anyone to cover sports. Nor did I get around to writing that article about Swarthmore cut-throughs — the informal pathways across private property cherished by many locals — that (as one friend remarked) I was born to write.

This is my last issue as editor of this newspaper. It’s been a fascinating, exhilarating, and sometimes difficult ride. It’s hard to figure out how to say goodbye. 

Before I do, I’m going to take the opportunity to point one last time to some stuff I worry about in our community.

I’ve written more than once in these pages about my concern about skyrocketing Swarthmore housing prices. I wonder how we can be a vibrant community with a broad, interesting mix of people if you need nearly half a million dollars to buy a house. The future seems likely to bring still more high-end residences to town — and soon. I’m not against that. 

But I hope that same future can bring more lower-end housing, too. Accessory dwelling units, maybe? Tiny houses or garage apartments erected on what are currently large, single-family lots? If people have other ideas — or want to pursue this one — I’d love to hear from you.

I worry, too, about race — the viscous and combustible brew of it bubbling away here as it does everywhere. In recent months, I’ve heard from (white) people who say concerns about racism in our community are overblown, and from (non-white) people who have expressed doubts about raising children here because of what can feel like a barrage of callousness, or cluelessness, from (white) neighbors.

To counteract those worries, I try to keep in mind the many extraordinary residents I’ve met in the course of working at The Swarthmorean. So many people here are using their talents to do all kinds of amazing things: teach children, elect honest representatives, make art, improve schools, humanize prisons, vaccinate the county, end air pollution, restore landscapes… This town! The abundance of neighbors digging deep to make our community (and the world) better is astonishing.

I’m grateful to the many people who gave their time and expertise so generously to the community endeavor that is this newspaper, especially Madelon Basil, Laurie Bernstein, Andrew Bunting, Jon Cohen, John Hurst, Grace Kennedy, Bill Menke, Elisabeth Miller, Maria Mooney, Caroline Packard, David Page, Stefan Roots, Robert Scott, Andy Shelter, Beth Soch, Linton Stables, Corey Ullman, Ken Wright, and Ben Yagoda. Thanks to co-publishers Rob Borgstrom, Greg Hoy, and Todd Strine for hiring me to nurture their baby. And special thanks to art director and ad manager Diane Madison, whose confidence every week that the issue would come together made me sleep better at night.

Finally, many thanks to Satya Nelms. During her time as associate editor of the paper, her ideas for articles and new features, her openness to people and experiences, her passion for language, and her willingness to share her perspective with me and with our community made me want to come to work every day.

In my introductory piece for the paper, I wrote that reading The Swarthmorean over the years made me feel like less of an outsider in my adopted town. I concluded the piece by describing some of my ambitions for the paper:

I hope we can reach more deeply into all the corners and pockets of town so that no one feels like an outsider. I want to find new stories to tell and to spin new threads in the vibrant web of connection that holds us together. I hope everyone who reads the paper will feel like a real Swarthmorean.

That’s still what I hope.

Rachel Pastan
Editor