From a young age I have had this thirst for knowledge beyond the expected curriculum, which has forced me to push myself to the limits and not take anything for granted. I recall learning about adding and subtracting numbers in the second grade. While the other kids were satisfied with what the teacher had to […]
Date: January 1st, 1970
Morning—a host of high school students with glazed eyes stands under a streetlight; one stands apart and gazes at the stars. I am that dreamer. Every morning, I look towards the heavens, basking in the glow of the Greek and Roman gods. Orion watches as I get on the bus, Venus waves me off to […]
Date: January 1st, 1970
“Paige, they need you to go down to the office,” said my teacher. There was an eerie tone in her voice. I was never known to get into trouble, so I knew something was wrong. It got even more confusing when the secretary said my mom was on the phone. I knew this was serious. […]
Date: January 1st, 1970
My uncle began teasing me about it when I was seven. I was riding with him in his combine, watching stalk after stalk of corn slip through the heavy outermost blades, when he said, “You’re going to be one of them starving artists, aren’t you?” I denied it. Starving? Not me. But his words stuck […]
Date: January 1st, 1970
The Rabbi, the Muslim, and Me by Brian G., New City, NY Jews rock! In my upper-middle-class town of New City, it’s not uncommon to see a Jew or two. In fact, they’re all around. No, I’m not talking about the Hasidim who roam the streets on Shabbat wearing their designer black overcoats, but rather […]
Date: January 1st, 1970
(The following response is best read in a thick Alabama accent) Mama always said I could learn plenty from Forrest Gump. It’s true. Gump is a personal inspiration because it fits so many lessons in its 142-minute run, inspires me to be a better person, and enjoy what life has to offer. But let me […]
Date: January 1st, 1970
The room was swallowed in darkness except for the tiny, cherry-colored shards of light seeping in through the hotel blinds from a violent sunset, darting like minnows across the walls and floor. I sat cross-legged, eyes glued to the screen in rapt attention. My entire body was bathed in the ghostly, pale glow of the […]
Date: January 1st, 1970
Butterfly There is a man in my neighborhood that plays the bagpipes. He sits under his tree and allows his music to rise above the drone of the coming and going traffic. The song is Amazing Grace—the only song he knows. I am a musician; I have played the viola for nine years. But music […]
Date: January 1st, 1970
Thank others for their inspiring words… Many of you may know my wife, Lisa, and may have thought she was a widow in the ward. Well, I am the other half that gets to visit with the 4th ward each week while she takes the punishment from Bryn and other children (I don’t want them […]
Date: January 1st, 1970
Give us a brief chapter of your autobiography. Rebecca S. F. was born to the strains of Pachelbel’s Canon in D. Her mother, a musician, thought the music would calm her newborn. She was wrong. For the first five years of her life, Rebecca was a terror. Granted, a cute, curly-topped terror with huge brown […]
Date: January 1st, 1970
