Sarah, I remember you telling me this story. And I just was like, Why did you do that? You know, that is a great example of how even those of us who are in the academy who have feminist politics, who recognize the politics of care, we have been sometimes so deprived of receiving that care ourselves that we just enter into situations without expecting it, or we have been so drilled into the idea that we can't bring our full selves to work or it's unprofessional, that we put up this compartmentalization or this wall. And frankly, I mean, this is toxic. And this harms us. I sort of had the exact opposite approach to everything when my mom passed. And it's because I sort of learned the hard way. My father passed my first year of my PhD, and it was sudden, and I was young. And I did the thing that you're talking about, I got on a plane, I went to my dad's funeral. I compartmentalized my grief, I pulled it together. And I went back to my political communication class to talk about Kant, or whatever we were talking about the day after the funeral. And I didn't even tell anyone that my father died, I have lived a life as a marginalized person, as a Black woman, as a first generation college student as someone who grew up low income. I had lived a life that had taught me that in order to be taken seriously in these spaces, and survive in these spaces, I just couldn't acknowledge my humanity. And I had an awesome advisor, Catherine Squires was my advisor. She's amazing. She's one of the most caring scholars that I've ever known. And it wasn't until years later that Catherine actually said to me that she heard from someone else that my father died, and she was just heartbroken. I hadn't told her myself, and that I hadn't been in a place where I could ask for support that she wanted to provide me as my advisor. And so this past year, when my mother died, I just threw caution to the wind. Part of that may be, I now have tenure, I feel secure all these things that people shouldn't have to have to be their full selves. But I would run into colleagues who hadn't seen me in a while and they'd say, How are you doing? And I'd say, Well, my mother died in my arms. How are you doing, and it made people really uncomfortable. But one of the things that was remarkable about this was that I had, I'm not kidding you, I had dozens of scholars, dozens of other academics send me emails or direct messages telling me about their experience taking care of their loved ones, when their loved ones are dying. And so many people reached out to me basically, behind the scenes to say, I know how exhausting This is, I know how heartbreaking This is, I know how soul sucking it is to feel like, you still have to be working while you're doing what is fundamentally the hardest thing you've ever done and the most exhausting thing you've ever done. And I think that that speaks to what we're missing by not having care work be front and center in how we engage in academia. Because it really changes how you relate to people and how you understand people and how you build relationships, when you can recognize that people are going through a lot.