become writers for unexpected reasons – because the world around them elicits feelings that only writing can turn into sense. Ulloa remembered “breaking down” when she met a young woman who had just gotten out of prison and came to speak to Stone’s class. “In high school, you couldn’t pay me to cry in public,” Ulloa said. “I remember just being so taken aback by her story and her strength. She was so young. She was like 24, and the system had just done her wrong. It was another peek into the fact that, as simple as it sounds, every single person that you meet on the street has equally complex things going on in their life. It unlocked a new layer of empathy.” For Narula, a pivotal moment came when she witnessed a heart transplant, which she processed in a personal essay that she wrote as an RE senior. Unbeknownst to her, her mother submitted it to a contest in Private Practice Magazine – and it won. “I think between realizing, ‘Gosh, I won this prize, and I got good feedback from my teachers, and I could use it as this way to express myself when things were challenging,’ I went to college really believing in the power of writing,” Narula said. What will it take to create the conditions for the next generation of RE writers to find their voice? As English Department Coordinator, I must admit that this question keeps me up at night. On the one hand, I have no doubt that this amazing department I call my professional home contains a whole slate of latter-day Bowdens and Proenzas who inspire our students every single day. Connor Alfonso ’26 said the influence of current RE English faculty member Julia Clarke was indispensable as he worked to publish a sci-fi novel, Turn to Wander, last year. “Dr. Clarke took the time out of her busy schedule to review every chapter of my novel with me, helped me write query letters to literary agents, reviewed numerous short stories with me, and her mentorship inspired me to pursue my novel’s publication,” Alfonso said. On the other hand, existential threats to the written word itself seem to be looming on the horizon, if they aren’t here already. Last November, The Baffler published “Brain Rot Without Borders,” a series of essays from writers all over the world bemoaning “postliteracy”: a decline in deep, reflective reading practices precipitated by TikTok-addled attention spans, the abandonment of speech protections by illiberal governments and, of course, AI. When Vanessa Mobley ’88, Senior Editor of Guest Essays for The New York Times, looked back on the RE education that laid the foundation for her own literary career, she remembered reading first and foremost – reading copiously, deeply and expansively for a 30-page capstone essay on playwright Sam Shepard in Jane Dolkart’s sophomore English class. “I learned to read first, and then I learned to write. And I often think of writing as a way to convey what I have read,” Mobley said. “If you were a nerdy kid or you desired to learn about the “Kitty Proenza made me believe that I could write something that was meaningful, and that mattered, and that would resonate with people.” – Tara Narula Cangello ’93 Jane Dolkart 20 Ransom Everglades LOG SPRING 2026
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