March 28, 2022: Dear Stranger -

After all the cranky letters I’ve written lately (Coke, Disney, etc.), and the thank you letters (valiant public figures), I received two terrific handwritten letters today, and I know not who wrote either of them. They weren’t cranky or trollish, and they didn’t ask me for money. They were wonderful.

Oregon Humanities sponsors a program called Dear Stranger, where you write a letter to someone completely unknown, hence “Dear Stranger.”  You send your letter to Oregon Humanities (O.Hm., as they like to style themselves), and they send it off to someone in another zip code. You don’t identify yourself or give your address in the body of the letter (just on the envelope), and neither does the other person, and O.Hm. takes both letters out of the envelopes before mailing them. They do the whole exchange thing a couple of times a year, so there’s a time gap, and you could (I did) forget all about it, until one day, you get this letter in the mail, in an Oregon Humanities envelope, and inside is the innards of a letter from someone unnamed and unknown to you, that begins, “Dear Stranger.”

(I bet there was an easier way to explain that.)

Anyway, I wrote my letter last month, but I wrote two of them. That “other zip code” thing made me worry that I might be matched with someone weird. I wanted two shots, instead of one. At the end, I put a photo of one of my paintings.

So today, I got two fat envelopes in the mail from Oregon Humanities. I wondered what they wanted, a donation?

They didn’t want anything! They were delivering letters from my Strangers! And O.Hm. must try to match well, because I’d enclosed that photo of a painting, and both of my correspondents were artsy. They were also young, which was great, because I don’t get as much teens and twenties contact as I’d like.

My first Stranger was 23, and has a cat that goes berserk at 3 a.m. Her plan is to become a Cat Lady, but she only has the one starter cat so far. She drew me a comic about the berserk attacks. She was sardonic, worried about the future, and admittedly depressed. She apologized for being such a downer, said she hoped the comic made up for the depressing letter, and wished me a better night of sleep than the cat lets her enjoy.

The other was 18, an art student in college, and a hoot. He was participating in Dear Stranger as a class project about Letters – the ART of writing letters and mailing them.

He enclosed drawings, old postcards, receipts, a perfume sample, and a quarter taped to a piece of card stock with the admonition, “Buy yourself something pretty.” It was like a mini-gift bag he’d tossed out into the universe.

We can write back to our Stranger via Oregon Humanities: Dear Stranger Replies, and they will forward it. If we want to continue after that, we’re supposed to put our name and address in the letter. I am thinking I’ll write back, but no address, let the whole thing be an epistolary fling, Just One of Those Things. And I’ll definitely do it again, the next time they offer it.

If this is beginning to appeal to you, too, here’s a link:

https://www.oregonhumanities.org/programs/other-projects/dear-stranger/

Also, buried in the comment thread, there’s this:

Thanks all for your questions about Dear Stranger. Here are some answers: 1. Anyone in the US is welcome to participate. 2. You can write as many letters as you like and will receive a letter back for each one you send. 3. Children are welcome to participate; the participation form has a place to indicate whether you'd prefer to exchange letters with another child. 4. If you are interested in starting a Dear Stranger exchange in your own state or community, get in touch with me at b.waterhouse@oregonhumanities.org. I'm happy to share materials and advice.

Ben Waterhouse | April 2020 | Portland