Grover Wehman-Brown
What's this newsletter? Well, it's like I'm on a boat; I'm parenting and creating through the sea of fascism/moving abroad/having a body in a complex world while tossing you letters in a bottle. I give a shit about infrastructure because I give a shit about people. If you do too, sign up to receive new stories and reflections, author updates, decision-making tools, and Grover-hosted upcoming events... right in your inbox.
A report from the land of NO co-pays
My first doctor’s visit this month was a bit awkward because — and only because — I WAS AWKWARD! I was a stiff person lurching around trying to hand the receptionist my identification card, my insurance, card, ANYTHING?! “That won’t be necessary….” she said, looking at me like I pulled out a mushed up fluffernutter sandwich on US-grade wonder bread and asked if she was hungry. There’s no co-pay. I do not need to hand her my insurance card because in the Netherlands information is shared...
Book Launch! Should I Stay or Should I Go?
Hey there everyone! I’ve been quiet on here because I was head down finishing up a time-sensitive BOOK with my wife, Nova. It’s called: Should I Stay or Should I Go? A step-by-step workbook to help you decide if leaving the US is right for you and it's available in a PDF download, paperback workbook via our site or from your local bookstore, and wherever you read e-books. The paperback workbooks on our real live table! Why’d we write this book? In the many years leading up to this transition,...
Dutch Bike Affection: Things I like about the Netherlands Part 1 of ....
Do I miss life back home? For sure. I am missing the bright green blanket of lush living that surrounds my house in Massachusetts. I am missing the friends I saw IRL on a regular basis — nothing in particular, just their presence. The way they changed the atmosphere around me. I am missing the adrenaline rush of summiting a large hill. I miss the crisp, fall air that smells like damp pine and lush leaves beautifully dying. I miss bulk bags of chocolate chips and bags of crisp, lightly salted...
Easeful Chaos: back to school in a whole new country.
The first morning of school in the Netherlands was a goddamn visual delight.1 I saw a mom with a cargo bike full of small ones following a 2nd grader with a backpack on as he pumped his little legs as fast as he could, excitedly leading the pack. She was surrounded by other kids and parents weaving this way and that, moving along through the easeful chaos of bike culture in the Netherlands. A sweet bike moment in the quiet weeks before school when at least half the country is on vacation....
A library-sized portal to our new home
Well, it’s now been six weeks since I’ve arrived in the land of fig-trees-in-front-yard-pots and shops that close at 6pm. Since I last wrote here, I’ve entered a new chapter of life, because my sweetheart and kids have arrived in the Netherlands (yay), and I no longer feel like a ghost wandering among the living. I’ve come to accept that I’m a pack animal, and I feel cozy and purposeful with my little family, no matter where we go. Nova and I, 14 years and a couple a days into this rom-com of...
I write you from a beginning. My first reflections on arriving inside a decision.
I write you from a place where people sort their trash thoroughly, carrying the plastic bag, which now contains only the most truly horrid, not-at-all-recyclable-or-compostable bits of rubbish two blocks around the way to a shiny tiny mailbox-as-trash-hole place. Once there, I scan a card to unleash the jaws of a cylinder the size of a five-gallon-bucket, and listen as it falls under my feet. I write you from long spans of daylight. From walks in a forest that was once the summer playground...
Danger calculations: A story about summoning bravery in an era of emboldened hatred
He came into my yard with a friendly "yoo hoo! I'm looking for Grover." Considering that I was alone in my backyard, I was glad for the audible heads up. "Hey there, I'm Grover. Are you here about the yard?" His ear-length blonde hair bounced tidily as his long gait covered the distance to where I was fiddling with my small battery-operated hand mower. I took his outstretched hand for a shake as he approached, close enough for me to read the white text on his t-shirt. I froze. The shirt was...
What's this newsletter? Well, it's like I'm on a boat; I'm parenting and creating through the sea of fascism/moving abroad/having a body in a complex world while tossing you letters in a bottle. I give a shit about infrastructure because I give a shit about people. If you do too, sign up to receive new stories and reflections, author updates, decision-making tools, and Grover-hosted upcoming events... right in your inbox.