ANOTHER VOICE FROM LATCHKEY TOWNSHIP: ASSORTED STORIES of RESILIENCY
I first met Sari Botton at a clothing swap in 2006. Clothing swaps are somewhat of a required ritual in our little bohemian consumer-light, recycling-heavy corner of the world. We found ourselves headed home with armloads of each other’s cast-offs since we were about the same size and shape. Since then, we have discovered that we have much more in common than the same size clothes.
Like myself, she loves to laugh until it nearly feels uncontrollable, and everyone around you wonders why you can’t stop.
We simultaneously had remarkably long bouts of mononucleosis in 2021, despite not having seen each other in a pandemic’s worth of time. We chatted for hours on the telephone about our mysterious symptoms, two grown people in their 50s who inexplicitly and suddenly were told by infectious disease doctors that they had the teenage kissing disease.
We both love comfortable shoes.
Our partners seem to follow each other around this small city’s few available tech jobs, working side by side for years at a time. The only time there was ever a company outing where families were invited was to a bounce house in Poughkeepsie. We created synchronized dance moves on trampolines that faced each other.
Sari knows how much I love chickpeas and often has a bowl of them at the ready when I go to her house. At a recent party, she had no chickpeas — but instead handed me a bowl of grapes that were to be all mine for the remainder of the gathering. I kept them close to my side and imagined they were green chickpeas.
We both wear bangs and glasses. We both write newsletters. Sari hosts one of my favorite Substack newsletters Oldster, which explores what it means to travel through time in a human body— at every phase of life. It’s about the experience of getting older and what that means at different junctures. It is beautiful and an inspiration to my own writing.
“We enjoy a sweet friendship filled with mutual admiration, like-mindedness, and great fun. I love everything Jacinta does, and it's an honor to be part of her latest project Latchkey Township,” muses Sari.
Now let’s read what Sari says about being a latchkey kid.
TV AND ME by SARI BOTTON
Recently it occurred to me that I’d like to learn to write for television. My next thought was, How do I not already know how to do that? I mean, television is in my DNA.
Like many Gen X latchkey kids, I was raised at least in part by TV. From the moment I let myself and my little sister in after returning home from school, we plopped ourselves down in front of the Zenith set in the living room with a snack and our homework and stayed there practically until it was time to go to bed. If we were lucky, my mom would let us eat dinner there, too, our meals propped up on fold-away TV trays. Even better: Now and then she’d let us have Swanson’s TV dinners, with different meal components tucked into their own little special compartments.
In 1975, the year before my parents split up, my mom went back to work as a schoolteacher for the first time since I was born. I felt terrified when she gave me my own house key. At 10, I didn’t feel ready to be left home alone or to watch my sister, four years younger, even in the daylight — even though my mother usually didn’t come home much more than an hour after we’d settled in. But shortly after I turned the television knob to “on,” I found myself pleasantly lulled — perfectly distracted from my terror about being responsible for myself and another child for an hour or more.
We’d start on PBS: Sesame Street, followed by The Electric Company and Zoom. From there, we’d flip over to channel 11, where we’d find an endless assortment of classic sitcoms from the ‘60s and ‘70s: The Brady Bunch, The Partridge Family, I Dream of Jeannie, Gilligan’s Island, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Rhoda, I Love Lucy, The Flying Nun. There were game shows, too — Hollywood Squares, To Tell the Truth, Beat the Clock. In the evening, we tuned into variety shows: Sonny & Cher, then Cher alone, Tony Orlando and Dawn, The Flip Wilson Show, The Andy Williams Show. On Saturday nights, with a babysitter, we’d eat our weekly allotment of pizza in front of Charlie’s Angels, The Love Boat followed by Fantasy Island, followed by Saturday Night Live if my mom was out late — followed by Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert if my mom was out really late.
After I turned 13, on nights my mom went out on dates, TV replaced babysitters. Afraid of being home alone at night with just my little sister, after numbing out in front of show after show, I’d put myself to sleep on the couch with the set on low and the living room lights on — my brilliant scheme for deterring potential burglars and kidnappers. It didn’t matter what show the dial was turned to; I just needed the voices to keep me company and calm me.
Decades later when I lived alone in New York City, on particularly lonely nights, I’d return to my old ritual, nodding off to those same ‘60s and ‘70s classics on Nick at Nite. It’s probably no surprise that in 2020, when the pandemic struck terror in me, I glued myself once more to “the boob tube,” binging one streaming program after another before bed, once again drawing comfort from the “friend” I had made as a latchkey Gen Xer, while trying not to judge myself for indulging in so much passive entertainment.
I'm still binging shows every night. But you know what? There's some really great storytelling on television now. I'll never feel guilty for watching a show as moving as Sort Of. And besides, as John Lennon sang: “Whatever gets you through the night.…”
FORGE ART COLLECTIVE
I recently worked on some silly short videos with my friend Keiko Sono, highlighting my newfound love of white gel pens. You can view them here and buy merch here.
Over the next year, I will share stories from other latchkey writers. You can also order the book LATCHKEY TOWNSHIP to read everything all at once.
A HOUSE FOR ARTS
I was recently interviewed by the lovely producers of A House for Arts on WMHT. You can view the video here.
I adore that interview with you! You are a true creative inspiration for me.
Watch “Somewhere Sometime”. Excellent!