Under the headline “Here’s to the people who bring warmth no matter what. (Mr. Fuller at school drop-off, I’m looking at you.)” a Boston Globe Parent Unfiltered column by Kara Baskin, was published Nov. 8. The part referring to Arlington, where the author lives, is republished with her permission.
You’ve probably spent the past couple days scrolling, refreshing, and metabolizing a stream of news infiltrating your feeds and washing through your psyche. It’s been an intense 48 hours.
That’s why, this week, I want to turn inward to focus on our own smaller worlds, the ones right outside our door.
Readers shared about the neighbors, teachers, businesses — reassuring touchstones on our daily journeys — who ground us. They make us feel part of something bigger than ourselves but are accessible enough to rely on, day in and day out.
These are the slivers of connectivity that sustain our families in the smaller, ordinary moments of our anonymous lives; our own tiny, resilient ecosystems that trade in the universal currency of warmth.
For me, it’s Mr. Fuller, the recess teacher and drop-off monitor at my second-grader’s school.
On days when we’re running late and have to drive (um, a lot), he’s there to open the backseat like a white-haired, L.L. Bean-clad valet, letting Peter hop out the door to bolt to the playground.
I’m not sure what his first name is. Everyone calls him Mr. Fuller, including the kids, who are used to calling most adults by their first names.
He’s always grinning. We all know people like that, little chocolate chips in the cookie of our day: real people who animate our multidimensional lives, beyond our phone screens and scrolling.
This column was republished Tuesday, Nov. 12, 2024. Editor’s note: Mr. Fuller’s first name is Peter, a former longtime Town Meeting member.
