In response to America’s continued lackluster performance on international standardized tests, along with stagnant growth here at home among the lower socioeconomic groups, the deep thinkers in public education press for more and more testing in our schools as a means of addressing the problem. In some ways the system can be likened to parents who just can’t accept that their kid isn’t the smartest in the class anymore. It
Ever since “liberal” became a bad word in America, there has been a growing tendency to pass judgment on other people by using this four-word zinger: “Everybody has a choice.” This is to say that no matter what situation one finds oneself in, there is always a right or wrong response, and if one chooses the wrong response, then, well, that person must take responsibility for his or her actions.
I don’t know much about guns. My immediate experience amounts to about three different occasions in my whole life. Yet I have vivid memories of each. The first time was when I was six years old. It was twilight, and my cousin Kenny and I had been out exploring beyond the grape vineyards and across the creek that bordered our grandfather’s farm. As we stood there at the edge of
Here’s a story about six young people from not so long ago who lived in a town called Freeport. Paul Henry was 12 years-old, a dreamy, quick-footed kid from a large family of all sisters and no father. He was walking home one evening in October from a friend’s house. It was dark already, the trees bare, the streets shiny black from the cold drizzle and swept clean by the
Mr. Leonard Mead would pause, cock his head, listen, look, and march on, his feet making no noise on the lumpy walk. For long ago he had wisely changed to sneakers when strolling at night, because the dogs in intermittent squads would parallel his journey with barkings if he wore hard heels, and lights might click on and faces might appear and an entire street be startled by the passing
“It’s not even my birthday But he want to lick the icing off I know you want it in the worst way Can’t wait to blow my candles out He want that cake, cake, Cake, cake, cake, cake, cake Cake, cake, cake, cake, cake Cake, cake, cake” – Rihanna’s “Birthday Cake,” 2012 “Oh, shake shake shake, shake shake shake Shake your booty! Shake your booty! Aah, you can, you can
