Would you indulge me a little personal history before I urge you to donate to the worthy cause of National Review?

My first exposure to NR came when I was a little girl. My father was a subscriber, so the magazine, with the cover’s trademark blue border, was typically on the coffee table. (He was also a devotee of Firing Line.) I grew up to be an NR subscriber myself.

Fast forward to 2018. My son was looking for work; on the Corner, I had seen an ad for a news writer position, and I suggested he apply. He got the job. In 2019, I was profoundly tired of the woke material I was dealing with in my freelance-editing gigs; my son heard that NR was looking for an associate editor and suggested I apply. I got the job. Today, I write to you as managing editor of the magazine — now in the 70th year of its glorious run.

That NR is a refuge from wokeness, from the worldview and the often egregious behavior of the Left, is perhaps the strongest reason to make a donation to keep our work going. For instance, the May issue, just out this week, brings you an anatomy of Covid-era failures (M. Anthony Mills), an urgent warning about what’s needed to counter the explosion of far-left antisemitism on America’s campuses (Matthew Solomson & Tal Fortgang), and our own Caroline Downey on how comedy defeated woke.

The crew of editors and writers that I’m fortunate to work with is dedicated to carrying on the conservative movement that William F. Buckley started. And here’s the thing: If I wasn’t paid to read NR, I’d be reading it anyway (I already was). I can’t imagine what I’d do without it. If you feel the same way, we’d love it if you were to show your love in any size donation you can make. Thank you.