"You have to see yourself in the shoes of those accused. Or a biker's boots. Or a young man's Nikes. Even a librarian's orthopedic sneakers."
Rick heard my lecture about racism and what that starred and barred flag projected to the world.
The great thing about the New York subway is the people: it feels like you're seeing people from every place on Earth.
"All good things, all great things, sadly do not last forever. Good Joe passed on this year..."
As a Native leader, his advocacy contributed to hallmarks not just for his own tribe but for others throughout the wide expanse of Indian Country.
Yesterday was a milestone for me. Not a day of sadness as much as a day of reflection. January 12, 2015, was the fifth anniversary of my father's death.
She stood her ground. She never left Daddy's side. She did not flinch. She was Mother Courage.
This Father's Day is a little different. It has taken on a new importance. This year, I'm a dad. And I'm oddly excited about it.
I do the "Park and Ride" thing, meaning I park my car at my daughter's high school visitor parking lot in the morning when I drop her off, and I catch the bus the rest of the way to work.
Discontent of the rural poor in the global south and the hunger of almost a billion humans fill the tinder box of revolution. Great corporations control both land and agricultural production. Dispossession and desperation follow; so do profits.