Bigger Than Yourself

On the evening we learned of his death, my daughter asked, “What is your favorite Mario Cuomo memory?” I said that on a personal level, it was going with him to P.S. 50 in Queens, his first school. Watching him gaze about the halls, I imagined him thinking about how far he had come, from a small boy who entered school speaking only Italian, to the three-term governor of what he called “the greatest state, in the greatest nation, in the only world we know.”

The visit ended with a stop in what I recall as a fifth grade classroom. He answered questions from the students, presumably 10-year-olds. One girl asked, “How did you know what you wanted to do when you grew up?” First he evoked laughter by telling of his misadventures in professional baseball and of trying out an education course in order to get closer to an interesting girl named Matilda, who was studying to become a teacher. Then he became serious, explaining how he found law and then politics.

He concluded by saying, “If you are really lucky, you will find something bigger than yourself that you want to give your life to.” He gave examples: teaching, nursing, public service. He also mentioned how, for a long time, the only option for many women was to take care of a family, but that a family is something bigger than ourselves and well worth giving one’s life to.

His answer was beautiful—funny and wise and so utterly respectful of the little girl and all her classmates.

Bob Lowry was assistant secretary to the governor for education and the arts from November 1991 to December 1994—Mario Cuomo’s last three years in office.