Unsolicited Letter #2

Dear Gilly (the amazing future roboticist body percussionist from Roguzin Elementary School)

I didn’t sneak a picture of you because I thought that would be rude, but I will never forget you. For multiple reasons.

You are 13 and from the Philippines, and you live in Israel and there are more facts about you and more to your story that I feel like are only yours to tell. So I’ll only talk about my side of meeting you and how much I hope to meet you again.

Somehow amidst our foolish Harvard-centric questions about leadership and politics we found out that you loved Harry Potter, and you were an aspiring engineer, and did First Robotics, and were in a body percussion ensemble, and it made me so incredibly happy. You see, we had 9 days of traveling behind us, and yes, there were days on the beach and dance parties at bars, but most of the Q&A we were doing had involved politics and the one/two state solution, and nobody could really answer resolutely to anything, and the incredible weightyness of the discussion sprawled heavily on everyone, and so to talk to someone like you, so full of hope and aspirations and clear eyed, direct answers — it reminded me of a spirit of possibility, and may you never lose that.

And when I asked you about First Robotics and how you designed your crate stacking arm because I never got mine to work, you simply replied

“Well, we work with the Israeli army’s engineers, so how could it not work?”

At which point I realized, well damn. I don’t know why I had always had the assumption that Israel was a war torn country built on the charity of the United States. For crying out loud, they rank number two in the world for money spent on research and development in relation to gross domestic product. Just my ignorance American bias about the Middle East. But I realize that one day I’m going to get my daily news feed on design and innovation, and I’ll see your name, I’ll see your tech, and I’ll be amazed all over again by your story.

You’re gonna go far kid. I gave you my number. Call me, maybe?

With love, shalom.