Teachers endure bored, misbehaving, or totally tuned out students, often with little recognition. In a commentary in The Chronicle of Higher Education, professor Charles Rinehimer pays tribute to the completely engaged students who gave him the strength to deal with tough cases.
When writer Stacy Horn was 26 years old, she was divorced and miserable. So she decided to audition for the Choral Society of Grace Church in New York. Horn made the cut and joined the community choir as a soprano.
She chronicles her 30 years with the group in a new memoir, Imperfect Harmony: Finding Happiness in Singing With Others. She talks with NPR's Ari Shapiro about how singing made her life more bearable.
For 24 years, Ding Zilin has sought justice for the death of her 17-year-old son, Jiang Jielian, on June 3, the night before Chinese authorities cracked down on protesters in Beijing's Tiananmen Square. Now, the 76-year-old despairs that she will die before she is allowed to mourn her son on the spot where he was killed. She stands in front of a small shrine to her son in her Beijing home.
Credit Louisa Lim / NPR
A woman reads a book in front of portraits of Tiananmen victims at the June 4 Memorial Museum run by pro-democracy activists at City University in Hong Kong on Monday, the eve of the 24th anniversary of the crackdown.
Credit Vincent Yu / AP
A paramilitary police officer stands guard at Tiananmen Square in Beijing on Monday.
Credit Kim Kyung-Hoon / Reuters/Landov
Wang Nan was 19 years old when he was shot dead during the crackdown on Tiananmen Square. Chinese authorities recently pressured his mother, Zhang Xianling, not to go to Hong Kong — the only place on Chinese territory where June 4 is commemorated — in the days ahead of the anniversary.
Ding Zilin has spent the past 24 years on one mission: seeking justice for the death of her son, 17-year-old Jiang Jielian, who was shot in the back by Chinese soldiers on the night of June 3, 1989.
This year, her mood is one of black despair.
"It's possible that before I leave this world, I won't see justice," the frail 76-year-old told me. We're sitting in the living room of her Beijing home, near a shrine to her son that includes a wooden cabinet holding his ashes.
While these days it's not uncommon to meet children with gay parents, in the 1970s it was. Alysia Abbott was one of those kids. When her parents met, her father — Steve Abbott — told her mother he was bisexual. But when Alysia was a toddler, her mother died in a car accident and Steve came out as gay. He moved with his daughter to San Francisco, just as the gay liberation movement was gaining strength.
While her father had not initially wanted a child, Abbott says he enjoyed spending time with her when she was a baby. Her mother's death brought the two of them even closer.
The nation's largest retailer announced Monday that it will be delivering produce from farms to stores faster by buying fruits and vegetables directly from growers.
The plan is to source about 80 percent of fresh produce directly, explained Jack Sinclair, executive vice president of the food business for Wal-Mart U.S., during a conference call that we participated in Monday morning.
In many instances, Sinclair says it will be possible to "cut out the middleman," but he added that local wholesalers will continue to "play an important role for us in the areas we serve."