Dis.Honor | A Love Letter to My Mother

  • The prize for that contest was an African violet plant — a soft, velvety, purple succulent that my mother faithfully propagated year after year, searching for new species every year to our shared delight.
  • I vaguely remember feeling like my mother was proud of me. But only in the vaguest way.
A photo of the author, her grandmother and her mother, from left to right.



Former East Coast, now West Coast. Lover of books, baking and all things beautiful. Writing & reading about identity, growth, and leadership. Stanford ’07, ‘19.

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