What Does Mail Mean to You?
Tags: United States, 2020, Mail, In The Know, Letters

Roe Bressan, Business Advisor

I’ve loved Elvis Presley for as long as I can remember. I’ve loved stamps ever since I was a little girl, having grown up watching my father remove them from envelopes if a design appealed to him. So when I stumbled upon a ballot in my local Astoria Post Office in 1992 asking the public to choose a ‘young’ or ‘old’ Elvis stamp, I was one of the 1.2 million people who voted. Elvis was a controversial choice for many reasons, and there was quite a brouhaha over putting him on a stamp. Nonetheless, I purchased it and — as reported in the April 13, 1992 issue of People magazine — I was part of the majority to have voted for young Elvis. When I visited the National Postal Museum in Washington DC in 2017, the commemorative stamp section was the first place I headed. Here was a true celebration of all things Americana: states, historical figures and events, the military, national parks, celebrities, artists, scientists and everything under the American sun. The list continues to date with gardens, hip hop, rivers, Harlem, John Lennon, Gregory Hines and Ellsworth Kelly. I have bought them all and more! Anyway, back to the Elvis stamp. It was dedicated at Graceland just a few moments after midnight on January 8, 1993, Elvis’s 58th birthday. It remains the most popular US commemorative stamp of all time. He’s still The King.

Martha Kirby, Client Services Director

Mail to me means birthday cards from my 94-year-old grandmother. It means getting excited about a long-anticipated package waiting in the mailroom. It means tactility in communication that is missing from email and text. It means respect — for those who sort, drive, pilot and deliver.

Wednesday Krus, Design Director

Mail for me is synonymous with reliability. When I was maybe 17 or 18 I started an anonymous a mail art project. I pre-addressed and stamped dozens of small manila envelopes with a simple prompt included inside: “describe a significant moment.” I received a treasure trove of secrets all summer. Cassette tapes, handwritten letters, photos, drawings, little plastic toys and a very small firework (which I imagine isn’t allowed to be mailed). I can’t reveal much else about what was sent — this is a secret that the sender, myself and the USPS alone can be entrusted with.

Samantha Barbagiovanni, Design Director

Mail to me means a special moment shared and a break from mundane adulthood. When I open the mailbox and sift through meaningless envelopes of valueless coupon packs and bills, there’s occasionally something special that peeks through. My name handwritten, imperfectly placed stamps from someone’s collection — a nice shift from automatic addresses that instantly sparks a bit of joy. A birthday? An engagement? A thoughtful hello? Whatever it may be, I love the anticipation of opening the envelope.

Nicole Duval, Senior Design Strategist

I remember one September going to a parent teacher meeting for my son Timo, who was in 1st grade at the time. I remember sitting in tiny chairs in a bright classroom, so different from what I knew in France. To my surprise, the teacher gave each parent a blank piece of paper and an envelope, with an assignment to write a letter to our child.

It’s the kind of moment where you feel panic facing a blank page and the desire to say so much — to project the kindest words of encouragement. The written words seemed so important and permanent.

In big letters I began to write the first cheerful sentence, “My Timo…” The letter was sent to my son at the end of the year. I’m not sure if he remembers the letter, but it was the first one I wrote to him. This month, he turned 30. On a tiny booklet with my husband, we wrote 30 little fragments of remembrances of his childhood. This particular one came to mind, as a memory that in fact was as important to me as the first letter to my son.

Dylan Stiga, Integrated Brand Strategist

Mail for me represents opportunity. I remember rushing home to check the mailbox in my senior year of high school, hoping to see my dream colleges’ logos emblazoned on large folder envelopes, knowing that standard size typically contains the greatest news. When that large envelope did come, it felt like I was literally holding my future in my hands. You can’t replicate that experience or feeling. For many, even more integral opportunities delivered by the USPS through their service are in jeopardy, and that’s an extremely dangerous thing.

Ben Greengrass, Creative Director

Pre-pandemic the mail was a magical service that had no face. I’d return home from a long day it would miraculously appear. Now I look out my window and see Frank. Frank is a local, a DJ, a big deal in the community, always with the hello and a friendly smile. I love Frank. He has been essential and a lifeline. We need Frank!

Shivani Gorle, Cultural Strategist

Mail to me is a paper hug, a long-distance vibe check. Ever since the pandemic hit, the mailroom has been overflowing with packages. The most interesting ones aren’t from Amazon or FreshDirect but from faraway lands addressed to foreign names. Those boxes and envelopes aren’t branded, come in all shapes and sizes and look a little rough around the edges. You can tell they’ve been packed at home with great care and contain things that are hard to come by here — homemade treats, masks, meds. It’s almost as though the hands that packed them are trying to say “hey, I don’t know when I’ll see you next but I hope you’re okay,” which isn’t the easiest package to receive for people separated by several seas. But until then, they’ve got USPS!

Luisa Gazio, Strategy Intern

As a Gen Zer mail didn’t mean a whole lot to me for most of my life. I first started to actually use it when I moved to America. My grandmother would occasionally send me newspaper clippings from Brazil along with a letter, but it was never a regular thing. She would only send me a letter if something had particularly reminded her of me. During quarantine, however, I was lurking on various film subreddits. Eventually I sparked a conversation with someone about Ingmar Bergman because I had really gotten into his films during quarantine. I soon learned that the person I was talking to was named Anton and he lived in Sweden. As I got to know him a little more, I asked him if he would want to be my pen pal. I know that the last thing you’re supposed to do as a young woman is give a stranger on the internet your address but I was feeling bold and I had always liked the idea of having a pen pal. He gave me his address and I wrote him a lengthy letter introducing myself and asking him various questions about film, his life, his hobbies and music taste. I got so excited I painted the envelope and included the playlist I was listening to that week in my letter. He responded with a letter and a postcard from the estate he has worked at since he was little. Opening that letter was the most exciting thing to happen to me that month. Developing a relationship with someone through letters requires a lot more work. You have to be very deliberate in your writing, keeping in mind that your letter will take up to 3 weeks to deliver. My pen pal taught me how to be intentional with my words as well as how to appreciate someone who is vastly different from myself. Although I neglected mail for most of my life it now represents a long distance connection I have with a complete stranger I met on the internet, and that is wonderful.

Jessie McGuire, Managing Director

Mail to me means independence. The summer between my freshman and sophomore year of college I left Pratt’s Campus in Brooklyn to go back to upstate New York. When I returned home, I was lost. I had so much freedom as a college student that being back home I felt trapped. My mother encouraged me to get a job, but as a 19-year-old pursuing an art degree, my prospects were limited. My mom clipped out a local newspaper ad for the United States Post Office in Schenectady, NY. They were looking for summer help. When I reviewed the requirements — able to carry 50lbs, good driving record, enjoys talking with people — I knew it was perfect! As a seasonal worker I had to take the Postal Service Oath. I swore to defend the Constitution and be faithful to the US, among other promises. I felt a deep responsibility to the streets and the people of Schenectady. When I returned to Pratt for my second year I couldn’t help but question if art could give me the same level of power and trust that the USPS taught me.