Leaving America Questionnaire #6
Kate Gavino, author & illustrator, 15th arrondissement
What drives Americans to leave home and settle elsewhere? That question has been on my mind for many years. This series, Leaving America, seeks to uncover the multitude of reasons and lessons learned—beginning with Americans in Paris. The questionnaire that follows will be the same for each guest. NOTE: want access to the insightful takeaways at the end? Become a paid subscriber. It also gives you full access to this newsletter’s archives!
When I started this series, I knew I wanted to feature two of the whip smart writers that I had the chance to spend time with in the fall of 2023 when we were all speakers at the inaugural Angers Literary Festival. That started with Jake Lamar and continues today with Kate Gavino, a talented writer and illustrator whose dry-wit humor makes me want to read everything and anything she puts out into the world. The new book she’s working on is, in her words, part rom-com, part ghost story. It's a graphic novel about a woman who meets her mom's ghost on the New York subway, and they strike up a friendship as her mom's ghost helps her navigate her love life. I’m sold! She has been writing this book from her perch in the 15th arrondissement where she lives with her husband and two young kids— as you’ll discover below.
Where was the last place you lived in the U.S.?
Brooklyn, New York. I grew up in Houston, Texas.
Did you intend to leave permanently or was the move temporary?
I moved here in 2018 after Dustin, my then-boyfriend-now-husband, got a job at a French start-up. Paris was the only city we could agree on living in together. I loved New York; he hated it. He wanted to live out in the country, surrounded by nature; I considered any city without at least three dim sum options too provincial. So Paris it was—and we had no immediate plans to move back or anywhere else.
Was there a pivotal moment when you knew your life would be best pursued elsewhere?
No. As a kid, I had dreamed of living in New York the same way some people dream of living in Paris. I can’t roll my eyes at any would-be Emilies in Paris because that’s how I felt about New York in my twenties. (Yes, I did indeed read that Joan Didion essay at an impressionable age.)
But I think everyone hits a point, even in their dream city, where they think, “What am I doing here?” And suddenly every negative thing about your city intensifies to a cartoonish degree. I remember I was having a bad day at work, and while leaving the subway, a woman (for no reason) smacked me in the head. I came home and dramatically declared, “Okay, let’s get the hell out of here.”
I enjoy living in Paris and consider it my home, and at the same time, I really miss New York. I think the older I get, the more normal it becomes to want two opposing things at the same time.
What sort of financial consideration did the move require, even as a student initially? Does one need a plump savings account to make this work?
I always had a full-time office job, but I quit that to move here. I had just received my advance for my second book, and I had a steady freelance social media gig that (most importantly) always paid me on time. I also began doing freelance illustration when I moved here, reaching out to every single person I have ever interacted with for work.
I couldn’t deal with the hours of freelancing where I had to simply wait for emails, so I began walking dogs as well. For a while, I was walking three or four dogs a day across multiple arrondissements. This also led me to becoming a nounou for a time. The kids were sweet, but honestly, I preferred the dogs.
“I think the older I get, the more normal it becomes to want two
opposing things at the same time.”
At what age did you leave? Looking back, was that too soon or too late?
I was 30 when I moved here. For me, it was a fine age since I was more than ready to be somewhat of a hermit, working on my books all day and just moving slower in general. However, I didn't take into account the constant stress regarding making money and learning a new language, so that idyllic writer's life didn't exactly pan out. Oh, and there was also a global pandemic, so yeah, I had to adjust that plan considerably.
When did you know you'd made the right [or wrong] call?
If you can't tell from my answers so far, I have a fraught love-hate relationship with Paris. But all my garden variety complaints about the city don't change the fact that I chose to live and start my family here, and I do feel grateful for that privilege.
In 2022, my third book came out shortly after my second kid was born. At the time, I felt like I had been a shut-in for so long, having spent most of lockdown and the pandemic twice pregnant and too scared to leave the hermetically sealed bubble of our apartment. I had forgotten how to be out in the world.
Despite this, I still had a book launch event at Red Wheelbarrow Bookstore. It was a cozy, delightful afternoon, and when I looked out in the small crowd and saw my husband, two kids, my parents who were visiting, and my friends who I have made since moving here, I felt like I was a part of the city, a part of the world again, for the first time in a long time.
What does Paris offer you that your native home couldn’t and, perhaps, still can’t?
It's a wonderful city in which to be pregnant and have a baby. For both of my pregnancies, I got excellent care at Port-Royal and Necker. I got lengthy (from an American perspective—don't come at me, Danes) maternity leaves from my office jobs at the time. I got a free breast pump and at-home visits from sage femmes. I’d sit at a bench in the park to awkwardly breastfeed under a scarf and see three other moms, tits fully out, doing their thing, too.
Did all of those amazing benefits suddenly make the post-partum depression or existential despair that comes with motherhood disappear? Nah. But did I mention the free breast pump?
Can you share any anecdotes about your highest and lowest moments in Paris?
Highest: After our first kid was born, we gathered our things from our week-long hospital stay and went down to the admin kiosks with all our paperwork. We diligently filled each page out, flashing my newly acquired social security number (obtaining that was a task of Herculean proportions, but I digress). We completed and signed everything. All was in order. The bored woman on the other side of the kiosk window looked at our expectant faces, confused. Why aren't these Americans leaving?
The standoff lasted for another good five seconds or so before we realized: Oh, we don’t have to pay for anything. So we took our baby and left.
Are there aspects of American life that you long for?
A good bagel, tapsilog, Tex-Mex, crawfish, kolaches, cannoli, the Flushing Mall food court, egg creams, a Whataburger honey butter chicken biscuit, breakfast tacos, queso, mala dry pot, Blue Bell Ice Cream, a bacon egg and cheese on a roll prepared for you by a man who doesn’t care if you live or die.