March 1, 2026

0:00Getting the girls trip out of the group chat just feels right. The Fort Myers area delivers the memories, bonding, and let's-do-this-every-year energy. Start planning at visitfortmyers.com.

0:22This is The Writer's Voice, new fiction from The New Yorker. I'm Debra Treisman, fiction editor at The New Yorker. On this episode of The Writer's Voice, we'll hear Yi Yun-li read her story, Calm Sea and Hard Faring, from the March 9, 2026 issue of the magazine. Li is the author of eight books of fiction, including the novels Must I Go and The Book of Goose, and the story collection Wednesday's Child, which was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in 2024. Her most recent book, Things in Nature Merely Grow, won this year's Andrew Carnegie Medal for Excellence in Nonfiction. Now here's Yi Yun-li.

1:07Calm scene and hot fairing. That morning, on a Monday in May January 2015, the traffic did not ease up until they were past Half Moon Bay. Lillian, looking back ten years later, from a New Jersey college town where Tesla Cybertruck's proud, felt that the Bay Area before the 2016 election had been as innocent as the children in her minivan, as well-intentioned, as ill-prepared. But are we not all like children in Euripides' place, about to be murdered or sacrificed? Immediately, Lillian criticized herself for being too bleak, protesting on behalf of those who were inadvertently encompassed by her thoughts.

2:07That morning, having exited a busy Route 92, Lillian relaxed a little, and, for the first time, turned her attention to the five fourth graders she was ferrying. Highway 1, stretching underneath a pale winter sun, was almost empty, and she directed the children to look to their right at the Pacific. The sea glistened colorlessly. Zhu's mom, do you know Zhu Zhu's mom drives a vegan car, Hazel said, when her eyes met Lillian's in the rearview mirror. Hazel was a petite girl with large, intense eyes. Lillian did not know Hazel and had noticed the girl's dismissiveness toward the other children she was saddled with on this trip.

3:09Can a car be vegan? Lillian asked a lot, inviting into the conversation the other four children. Lillian's younger son, Jude Jude's best friend, Evan Evan's twin sister, Freya and Freya's best friend, Vanessa At this age, the children reminded Lillian of those long-legged water insects which gather together at dusk each connected to another until a secure chain is formed for the night In daylight, the water insects would scatter, but these children might still have a year or two before their orderly connections were threatened. Lillian had seen things happen in the class of her older son, Oscar.

4:08By fifth grade, the interactions among the children had lost their seeming innocuousness. One girl had made a death threat in a note to a friend, vowing to temper with the friend's epi-pen. Another girl had promised dollar bills to boys if they allowed her to whip them with a tree branch at a far corner of the school's playground. Three boys had written an unsigned letter to a girl, naming the anatomical parts of her body. Lillian's children went to a small independent school, its woodsy campus aspiring to be a fairytale-like setting. She was one of those mothers who answered every call for parent chaperones, driving the students around the Bay Area to see art, animals, old people immobile in nursing homes, Ohlone farms, Spanish missions, recycling stations.

5:15It was a full-time job just to be a mother. But for this excursion, a five-day outdoor education field trip at a learning center, all the chaperones were working parents. The three fathers included a criminal prosecutor, a seismologist, and a real estate agent The three other mothers were lawyers, one working for a state agency, one for a corporate firm, and one for a foundation that supported arts and literacy projects Each chaperone would be staying with six or seven children in a dorm room outfitted with bunk beds. There were four showers to be shared among the adults and children. The learning center used to be a hostel.

6:15Its Spartan facilities a challenge, a lawyer mom told Lillian, for the stay-at-home mothers, who would otherwise have been perfect candidates for the task of chaperoning. A car can't be vegan, Evan, a skinny child wearing a pair of large glasses, shouted. But are all cars vegan? Vanessa asked. There was a thoughtful pause. Not if you have leather seats, Jude said. Freya kicked the back of the driver's seat. Is this leather? she asked. Don't kick, Lillian said, wishing that Freya could rely on her own powers of observation. No, this is not leather. Leather costs more, Hazel said. Is that why you don't have leather seats, Jude's mom?

7:16The way Hazel insisted on calling Lillian, Drew's mom, was peculiar. Her children's friends either called Lillian by her name or treated her as an accessory of anonymity. Lillian did not know how to reply, so she pointed to the Californian poppies blooming by the roadside, a golden carpet on the slope. Look! The children looked dutifully. but none marveled, and their attention drifted elsewhere. Jude and Evan started a duet of agony from Into the Woods, and Freya and Vanessa jeered and then joined in when the refrain came up. The movie had been a hit a few months earlier, though Oscar and Jude, loyal to the stage production, had cribbles with the screen adaptation.

8:16Hazel leaned forward as far as her seat belt allowed. Just so you know, leather seats are easier to clean, she said. Lillian had been driving the Honda Odyssey since Jude's birth. All those years of spilled juice and milk, of sandy or muddy footprints, of hands sticky from snacks and artworks. No deep cleaning would make the fabric look new again. I concur, Lillian said brightly, and sensed an alarm of incomprehension from the girl. Hazel did not know what concur meant, Lillian thought with an unjust pleasure. So she had no way to further her pairing. The minivan had been donated to a music society when Lillian and her family relocated to New Jersey.

9:17She did not know where those children, college age now, were today. After Oscar's death, Jude, who was in seventh grade then, had received messages from some of his old Californian friends. But in adolescence, the children had to set out on their own. Calm sea and prosperous voyage. A dream for Goethe and Mendelssohn, for any parent, and perhaps for all men and women, was but a hearsay. It was possible to find out about Jude's friends, but Lillian refrained. Her own best friend from middle school, upon learning of Jude's death six years after Oscars, had emailed, reminiscing about their school days in Beijing.

10:15In the hot months, they would buy ice pops from the dining hall for three fans each. The ice pops, colored with yellow food dye, were, in reality, more gray than yellow, offering only a hint of sweetness. And a few times, they had found remnants of vegetable leaves frozen inside. Once they put their money and bought an ice cream bar in the shape of a snowman. But before they could take a bite, the snowman loosened itself from the stick and fell. It had cost 60 fan, 20 ice pops to while away many lunch breaks. They squatted in the sun and watched the snowman melt. Soon, aunts congregated. Lillian's friend had made a fortune in real estate.

11:18Lillian was touched and replied that she too remembered the snowman. Of her children's deaths, she could say nothing. So she quoted a few lines of a third-century poem from the Jin dynasty. Those who have accompanied the funeral procession are now ready to return home. The sorrow remains for the family. Others have begun to sing. What's so exceptional about dying but to entrust your body to the mountain? The homebound others, already singing. This always struck Lillian as a comforting aspect of death But there would inevitably be some who insisted that the bereaved also join in the singing Mandatory hope and mandatory optimism must be among the bleakest things in life When they arrived, the week's challenge became obvious to the parents There were two naturalists at the center, both women in their early 20s.

12:36The fourth grade teachers were Miss A and Miss Z, capable but young nevertheless, and Miss Z was six months pregnant. We need a game plan. I say we play defense. Mike, one of the fathers, said to Lillian as her charges unloaded their sleeping bags, suitcases, backpacks, and stuffed animals. Mike was the real estate agent, an older father of a young daughter. Like Lillian, he was a regular chaperone. Martha, one of the mothers, came over. Five days, 50 people per meal, three meals a day, she said. The cooking and the cleaning are all on us, and the driving and the babysitting. We were crazy to sign up for this.

13:32The other parents joined them, one or two echoing the incredulity, a mixture of fake consternation, mild indignation, and real pride. The truth was, Lillian thought, every one of them knew why they were here, to ensure the children's safety, health, and happiness, if that was possible. Within 15 minutes, Anna, the corporate lawyer, had drawn up a schedule. in shifts of two or three, in a rotating manner, like a dance in which no one was stuck with the same partner for long. And in the spirit of fairness, she had set a battle plan for the week. Miss A and Miss Z gathered the children with their lunchboxes.

14:29The last meal packed by their parents, the teacher said, and soon they would be cooking their own. The children made hooting noises of independence, ate, and lined up for a walk to a nearby rocky beach. Martha asked to be let off the hook for the afternoon, and since no one oversaw the parents, no one opposed this, Anna and Gretchen exchanged looks. Lillian was paired with Jeremy, the criminal prosecutor. They were to be the rear guard. They had not met before, and he pointed Tony out as his son, and she pointed Jude out as hers. Tony was the tallest boy in fourth grade, and Lillian knew his mother, a petite interior designer, by sight.

15:27Jeremy, stooping a little when he spoke to Lillian, was at least six feet two. Lillian asked him about his work, and he said that his specialty was sex offenses. Oh, she said, does Tony know that's your field? Jeremy glanced at her, and she wondered if he considered the question impertinent. But Lillian's least favorite activity was small talk. If she must make a conversation, She would rather talk about something that she could ponder later. Yes, I talk about my work with Tony, but only in broad strokes, Jeremy replied carefully. His siblings are too young. Lillian said that a friend's sister-in-law worked as a psychiatrist for the state prison.

16:25Somewhere to the north, Lillian gestured, and Jeremy provided the prison's name. Yes, that one, Lillian confirmed, and said that the psychiatrist seemed to have a dim view of her clients. For instance, someone who had murdered multiple people would go on talking about his hurt feelings. Ah, but that's only a medium security prison, Jeremy said. Your friend hasn't seen the worst. Are your cases much worse? Am I allowed to ask? The naturalists were gathering the children for a lecture on tidal pools. Jeremy told a few stragglers to catch up. Did I hear that you are a professor? He asked Lillian.

17:16More or less, she said. I write too. Mostly fiction. Murder mysteries? Oh, gosh, no. If you want stories, we can have coffee sometime, Jeremy said, nodding to the children around them. It was not an appropriate setting, Lillian knew, but she suspected that the coffee might not happen. Hey, Jeremy raised his voice to call out to two boys who were hopping from one slippery rock to another in a competition. When he walked over to restore discipline, Gretchen joined Lillian. Not an easy man to be married to, Gretchen said, raising her chin at Jeremy's back. Mimi is pretty much a single mother. Lillian thought about how much she disliked people who talked as though everything they said were pregnant with Mimi.

18:19Three times a year, he goes off to hike solo in Oregon and Washington and leaves the children to Mimi, Gretchen said. Imagine. From Lillian's experience, people who exhorted imagine rarely followed their own advice. Well, he's here, she said. But it sounded as though she were defending Jeremy, who was really a stranger. That's because Mimi insisted that they go to couples therapy So it must have worked, Lillian said Putting on a stubbornly obtuse look A few rocks away, Evan waved Giving Lillian the excuse to extricate herself He and Jude had found a pink sea star Their identification confirmed by the naturalists Children gathered, and many took out their digital cameras.

19:21A boy next to Lillian bemoaned the fact that his parents had not allowed him to bring a digital camera. Just this, he said, pointing to a disposable Kodak camera hanging around his neck. You can only take 24 photos, and then they have to be developed. Don't be a crybaby, Hazel said sternly. Lillian saw that Hazel did not join the children in photographing the starfish. On the walk back, Lillian noticed a girl, a head taller than Jude, keeping to his side, sometimes bumping into him. The school emphasized that students should express themselves in words, but Jude was not a child who verbalized his feelings.

20:14Lillian wondered if she should intervene, but Evan inserted himself between Jude and the girl. Evan was a good friend. In kindergarten and first grade, he had tirelessly explained to any questioning adult that no, Jude did not want to talk, and he, Evan, could speak for Jude, until a special ed consultant forbade the practice. Who's that girl? Lillian asked Anna. The one walking was Jude and Evan. She's new. Her name was Ginny, and she had been expelled from Kingsley, Anna explained. Jeannie's parents had made a donation, so Jeannie joined the fourth grade after the Christmas break. Lillian liked Anna, who was on the school board, knew what was going on, and gossiped matter-of-factly with neither pettiness nor zeal.

21:17Jeannie suddenly pounced. Jude, tightly locked in by her arms, struggled to free himself, and she laughed. Lillian did not think there was true malice in that laughter. Nevertheless, Jude would be annoyed. Lillian walked over and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. Look at that bird, Lillian said. Ginny released Jude and turned to look, then exclaimed, even though it was only a common red-winged blackbird. She shouted at Jude and Evan to look at the wings of the bird. But the boys had already walked on. Listen, Ginny, you need to leave Jude alone, Lillian said. But he's so cute like this, Ginny said, making a kissing sound while holding her cheeks between her hands.

22:17Jude had a round and chubby face. He's like a teddy bear. Ask your parents to buy you a life-size teddy bear, Lillian thought. You need to respect people's personal space, she said. But Evan doesn't have to respect Jude's personal space. Evan, a weedy boy, sometimes pretended that Jude was a tree he could climb, and Jude would stand still, letting Evan hand on him. There was a puppy-like affection between them. Miss Z walked over and gave Lillian a querying look. Lillian said that she was explaining personal space to Ginny. Miss Z sighed inaudibly. Ginny, we've talked about this, remember? But everybody likes to be hugged, Ginny said, throwing her arms around Mrs.

23:16Z's body. For a split second, Lillian felt an urge to push Ginny out of the way. But the girl was gentle enough with Miss Z's protruding belly. I'm glad you like my hugs, Ginny said, looking up with a placating smile. Surely there was malice in that smile, Lillian thought, scrutinizing the girl. Some years later, Lillian would remember the girl again, and she would ask Jude if he recalled Ginny from fourth grade. It was a sunny day in June, and she and her husband and Jude were on vacation in Denmark, sitting next to the mold of Kronberg Castle, Hamlet's Elsinore. Hamlet was one of Jude's favorite characters, and they agreed, after touring the castle, that none of them would have liked to be a prince in that palace.

24:23Jude thought and then replied with his particular precision, I have no recollection of having known someone with that name. Ginny had stayed for only a few months. Once, during a lunch break, Jude had pushed her so hard that she fell and scraped her elbows. Lydian, summoned by the principal, asked the woman if Jude had been provoked and pointed out that he had never been physically aggressive toward anyone. The principal said she understood that Jude did not like having his face cupped or his body hugged by Ginny. But she had confirmed that Ginny had never received a verbal no from him. The woman went on, saying that the school took male aggression seriously.

25:21But not female aggression? Lillian nearly burst out. She asked if Ginny's behavior towards Jude, which had plenty of eyewitnesses, including Lillian herself on a school trip, shouldn't be considered sexual harassment. Lillian felt bad as she said this. Perhaps Ginny was only a nuisance, but America was a litigious country. The principal softened and said that she would just give Jude a warning And that the school would expect his parents to go on working with him on his communication By Hamlet's castle, Jude did not seem curious about Ginny And their conversation drifted to Kierkegaard and Wittgenstein Swallows darted in and out of the castle flitting over the water, sometimes changing directions midair, giving out high-pitched cheap chipping.

26:23I used to sing a Chinese lullaby about spring swallows to you, Lillian said. I remember it, Jude said, and hummed. I sent it to Oscar too, Lillian said. After Oscar's death, on all their travels, They were aware of his absence. The swallows outside Hamlet's castle made it easy to bring him back. Oscar, Lillian thought, would have remembered the lollipop too. Unrealistically, she felt that everything would still be all right if they could stay next to that moat forever. They sat quietly for some time. Then Lillian asked Jude if he remembered a girl named Hazel. Vaguely, he said. Lillian wanted to say that every time she read Hamlet, she saw Hazel as Ophelia.

27:26But it would be an odd comment, so she let it drop. That day, they sat next to the moat for a long time, but not forever. After the summer, Jude went to college and died in the middle of his freshman year. In the late afternoon of the first day, Lillian and Martha were on patrol duty at the back of the learning center. There were two large patios, fenced in and perched on a hill overlooking the Pacific. Below the patios was a sharp slope that ran down to the ocean. Mike and Philip, the seismologists, were leading a game of touch football on the front lawn. Gretchen and the two teachers patrolled the dorms while Jeremy and Anna worked in the kitchen with the children on cooking duty.

28:24Hot dogs and chips for dinner, Martha said. Not much cooking to do, if you ask me, and no vegetables. Lillian nodded. Martha was not an engaging conversational partner, though no doubt she could say that about Lillian, too. Still, we're luckier with the million-dollar view, Martha said, pointing to the ocean. The sun was setting. Children, mostly girls, took pictures of the splendid colors of the sky and the shining sea. Lillian found an excuse to go around and check that the children were not fighting over the best photo spot Jude and Evan, neither material for touch football, in Evan's words, were at the end of the patio Lillian took pictures of them from afar Two bespectacled boys, one chubby, one skinny, both looking comfortable with being the odd balls that they wore.

29:34Is Jude a scholarship kid? Hazel, who seemed to have appeared from nowhere, asked. Lillian hesitated, then said that she and her husband paid the full tuition for Jude. She asked Hazel if she would like to sit with her. and watched the sunset, partly expecting, or perhaps hoping, that Hazel would decline. But Hazel followed Lillian to a bench. How about Evan and Freya? Do their parents pay the food tuition? Hazel, drawing both legs up and placing her elbows on her knees, asked, That I can't answer you, Lillian said. I bet they're on scholarships. Twins can be expensive. I don't think you're supposed to go around asking these questions, Lillian said, or think about these things.

30:34You're too young for it. And parents are too old to understand anything, Hazel said. Lillian never liked those parents who talked about their children's schooling as preparation for the future. Could they not see that the children were living their lives already? But he or she, too, had blundered. She apologized for speaking hastily, and Hazel nodded magnanimously. I'm a scholarship kid, you know, she said. Lillian did not know. She had never met Hazel's parents. I went to a public school for three years. Kids there were mean to me. Is this a better school for you? Not really. Kids are mostly stupid, no matter where they go to school, Hazel said.

31:30The problem is, they don't even know why they have to be mean to me. Lillian studied the girl. Do you know? They want me to be just like them, Hazel said, and then gestured at herself. as though to indicate the impracticality of this. There was despair in her eyes, and there was pride, too. What about your parents? You know how parents are. You want us to be like the other children, only better so that we can go to Stanford, Hazel said. Were you happy when you were a child, Jew's mom? I thought I was. But were you really not? I once had a student who had grown up during a war in the former Yugoslavia.

32:25That was before your time, Lillian said. Hazel made a face, warning Lillian not to be tiresome. Indeed, why talk to Hazel as though she were an average child? This student, he was a college freshman, said that his American classmates asked the most impossible questions about his childhood. He told me, I don't see why they have to feel bad for me. We had a great time. There was no school, and mostly we played cards in the shelter. When there was no bombing, we went out to play soccer. Hazel thought for a moment, That doesn't sound bad. It was bad. Only he didn't know it, Lillian said. Most children wouldn't question their childhoods until later, if ever.

33:22A blessing for children and parents alike. But not all children are stupid, and not all of them are mean. How do you know? You are no longer ten years old. Lillian suspected that the hazels of the world would often be reminded by their elders to be grateful and happy, as though gratitude would guarantee happiness, or else a happy facade would take the sting off that onerous task of feeling grateful. You're right. I have no right to make those claims, Lillian said. We grown-ups are not the most thoughtful species. Hazel looked unsettled. Perhaps adults in her life did not admit their shortcomings easily.

34:15But Jude and Evan are not stupid, Lillian said, and they're not mean. Shall we go join them? Hazel shook her head. Boys are so immature. drawer. Would you like me to take a picture of you with the sunset and the sea? Lillian asked. Hazel shrugged, but Lillian could see her gladness at being asked. She positioned Hazel next to the fence. Just as she was about to take the photo, Jude and Evan jumped into the frame. No doubt this was Evan's idea, but even Jude was laughing. Hazel, feigning annoyance, did not look as morose as she had a minute before. The picture and the others taken that week, along with thousands more taking in Oscar and Jude's lives, was saved in the cloud.

35:19But Lillian did not often revisit them. She did not need the images to bring back the memories. There was the hike in the redwood forest where the children circled a giant sequoia tree with linked hands, while Jude and Evan stood aside, studying lichen through a magnifying glass. There was the coastal walk, with the Pacific on one side, and the winter hills, greened by the rainy season, on the other. On that walk, the naturalists spotted a mountain lion at the bend and told the children to stay still. And yet they all exclaimed when the mountain lion leaped into midair to catch an unsuspecting bird.

36:12and they exclaimed again when they caught sight of a large herd of elk across the valley. There was the breakfast Lillian supervised with Philip, who approved of Jude and Evan's scientific spirit when they were tasked with cracking a hundred eggs. The boys tried different methods, one egg in two hands, two eggs in two hands, cracking the egg on a flat tabletop, cracking the egg on the edge of the counter to see which would lead to fewer broken pieces of shell in the basin. There was the drama competition one evening, each group presenting a skit featuring sea creatures. Jude opted for the non-speaking part, playing a baleen whale, minding his own business.

37:06Hazel, insisting on calling the fisherman character Ahab, earned enough ire from the other children that she decided to sit out the performance. And the fisherman, played by Evan, was satisfyingly and conventionally named Grandpa Joe. There was a night visit to a lighthouse, and even the most unruly of the children climbed the circling stairs with a quiet oar. They were told that it was a privilege to visit one of the few remaining working lighthouses in the area. Perhaps to them, the lighthouse was a living thing from the past, like a breathing dinosaur communicating in the darkness with other dinosaurs.

37:59It was on that trip, spending all her waking hours among the children, that Lillian began to study them closely. trying to imagine a future for each one. Some would grow up to be Anna's and Martha's and Gretchen's, some Mike's or Philip's or Jeremy's. There would never be a shortage of Ginny's, so Ginny might not have to confront loneliness. But some children, Hazel, Evan, and, of course, Jude, Jude baffled Lillian. Was there a calm sea for children who could not or would not be molded into an acceptable shape, who did not fit nicely into the safe and inclusive part of the bell curve? Do outlier children meet outlier fates?