As the spring arrived with melting snow and T-shirts in 40-degree weather, Tobin and Pete met with students, finalized a loose set of field plans, and began to assemble the infrastructure necessary for a small, organic, start-up farm.
Our late teens and early twenties consist of a series of transitions so fast-paced that it may take writing an article about them to truly see them.
Sometimes, however, the most useful thing you can do is make yourself happy, or try to make others happy, or get away from school for an afternoon, or maybe even spare your mother the role of cake-server, just once, on a Sunday afternoon.
If you make exercising and eating healthy a social event, it will be much more fun and easier to stick with. Once you get into the habit of being healthy in college, it is manageable and fun.
Bess Hanish immigrated into American life from inside the walls of her family's home in California. When we first spoke with Bess, now a law student at Berkeley, she said, "I'm not really doing anything remarkable."
For the first time, survivors are speaking out about our experiences and demanding our rights to safe support, free from retaliation. In return, we've been treated worse than the people who made us survivors. If there is any chance for change, it cannot ride solely on the backs of survivors. It has to come from everybody.
What if, one day, my rapist walks into a room with me? What would I do? How would I react?
America and the world will, of necessity, revisit those memories on the forthcoming assassination anniversary. But perhaps it is also worthwhile to celebrate another anniversary, one that marks an earlier, more hopeful and more reflective moment in the Kennedy presidency.
I have talked to dozens of Amherst Survivors who prove that my story is not unique. But that is not what many administrations across the county want non-Survivors to know; they want to make sure that Survivors appear to be unique, isolated and crazed.
Madeline Janis has used her remarkable talents to making democracy work for working people.
When Angie Epifano published the story of her sexual assault at Amherst College--and the lack of support she received--readers were saddened, disturbed, and enraged. Although an investigation has since concluded that "[Amherst] failed to follow policy and procedure in a way that would have provided a prompt and integrated response to Ms. Epifano's report," students are not done addressing the issue of campus sexual assault--and reaching out to other campuses to talk about it.
I would like to suggest that there is reason to be ashamed of Amherst College, and a reason to be ashamed of ourselves. But I would also like to argue that, in our response, we have something to be proud of.
As a student, you may feel like your school's policies and programs regarding sexual violence are largely out of your hands. They're not. I know this because I've seen a campus completely transform its sexual violence resources because of pressure from students.
Your kid's future alma mater isn't cookie-cutter, so why should your college tour accommodations be?
I wish I could say I'm a stranger to hearing about sexual assault at Amherst, but that wouldn't be true. Even though this cracking of the College's perfect façade will catalyze change, there are many survivors who have lost something vital -- and no amount of change in policy, discussion or apology can return it to them.
Students from these schools were far from shy about showing their pride in support of the LGBT community on campus. In one of our favorite list names...