The Audacity of Hope

Or what I learned about a 139-year-old painting this morning

This morning, while walking the dog in the snow, the phrase “audacity of hope” popped into my brain. But I couldn’t remember where the phrase had come from. So when I came in, I did some searching. Ah, yes — it was the name of a book by Barack Obama. But there’s more to the story!

In 1886, British artist George Frederic Watts painted Hope. He was part of the Symbolists movement and described the concept in a letter to a friend in 1885:

Hope sitting on a globe, with bandaged eyes playing on a lyre which has all the strings broken but one out of which poor little tinkle she is trying to get all the music possible, listening with all her might to the little sound—do you like the idea?

His painting was briefly popular — hanging in a British Museum, a print adorning the home of Teddy Roosevelt. And then, not so much.

In 1959, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. based a sermon on the painting. Later, in the 1980s, the Rev. Dr. Frederick G. Sampson delivered a lecture about it at the University of Virginia. A pastor named Jeremiah Wright was in the audience. In the 1990s, he delivered a sermon describing the painting like this: "

With her clothes in rags, her body scarred and bruised and bleeding, her harp all but destroyed and with only one string left, she had the audacity to make music and praise God ... To take the one string you have left and to have the audacity to hope.

A law student named Barack Obama sat in the pews that day. A decade later, Obama changed “to” to “of” and “The Audacity of Hope” became the name of his 2004 convention keynote address, the theme of his presidential campaign, and later a book.

And this morning — 139 years after the Hope painting joined the ranks of human creation — it found its way into my brain through a circuitous route through art, religious, and political history.

Hope is a Gritty Virtue

All of this got me thinking about my interview with Dr. Jamil Zaki, a Stanford professor who wrote “Hope for Cynics: The Surprising Science of Human Goodness.”

You can read my entire conversation with him about "Raising Hopeful Kids in Cynical Times.” Lots of practical stuff, I promise! But on this January day, I’m just going to leave one quote here:

3 Hopeful Things I’ve Read This Week

I loved these two substack newsletters from Christina Koh — I pretty much love everything she writes.

• “8 ways to prioritize community”

• “7 tiny things to do when you are just…MEH”

I’ve also enjoyed “Parent Yourself First,” a new book by Bryana Kappadakunnel based on this premise: “You don’t have to have had a good parent to be a good parent. “ None of us had a perfect childhood, and parenting offers incredible (and hard) opportunities for healing and growth. Bryana is a licensed family therapist, and her book is filled with real stories and grounded wisdom.

Can I Celebrate?

A couple of lovely things happened this week. First, on Monday morning, I got TWO congratulatory texts from friends in the kidlit field — leaving me totally baffled! Turns out they were watching the livestream of the 2025 ALA Awards (you know, the group that does that Caldecott & Newbery awards). They also give an award for digital media, and this year it went to Carl the Collector. If you want to know more about my involvement with (and adoration of) this show, click here.

Second, the fourth book in my I See You board book series dropped. “I See You Play” features toddler twins, each with their own adorable stuffed tiger.

It’s still January, and it’s been SUCH a January. And hope is a brave, gritty virtue — there’s nothing naive about it.

Yours,

Deborah

P.S. In preparation for the release of “Raising Awe-Seekers” in May, I’m keeping a wonder journal: One tiny entry each day about something that caught my attention, gave me goosebumps, brought tears to my eyes, or made me say, “Wow.”

365 Days of Wonder: Week 4

Day 22:

My friend Allison "sells" cookies in exchange for donations to a charity. Since 2021, she has baked untold thousands of cookies in her kitchen, raising over $20,000 for vital organizations. About an hour ago, she dropped off these beauties (with donations going to the LAFD Foundation). She's one of those busy people who somehow always makes time to do good things.

Day 23:

Last night I was on a Zoom call from 7 to 9:30. At ~9pm, the 13yo snuck into my office to give the dog (asleep at my feet) his medicine because I had forgotten to.

Day 24:

I walked into a local shop and started chatting with the owner about January days, our kids, town politics, and hopes for 2025. Somehow I mentioned these lines from Mary Oliver (the epigraph in my book on awe). She reached into a basket on the counter, pulled out a sticker with those same four lines, and pressed it into my hand.

Day 25:

One of my favorite indie bookstores, Whitelam Books, hosted a Stuffy Sleepover last night. From 7-to-11pm, every time I checked they had posted adorable new photos of kids' stuffies enjoying a night on the town.

Day 26:

This quote is from a book I'm reading with my youngest. I put it in my newsletter last week, and now I can't stop thinking about it. This year, I've made a couple of actual-real-local-enough-to-hug new friends. And Katherine Rundell is right -- friendship really is an insufficient word.

Day 27:

Last night I randomly grabbed some old fortune cookies before driving home a group of teenagers."Here, check out your fortunes for the week," I said.The first one? "You will be surrounded by the love and laughter of good friends."Teen: "Well that one already came true." ❤️

Day 28:

I love the music of Dan & Claudia Zanes with my whole heart. Did I start crying when listened to this song this morning? Yes, yes I did.