When a teenager graduates from high school, he leaves home for college and stays gone, except for those holidays. At least that's how the story has gone for generations. But not now.
Remember that guy or girl in high school that you — or someone you knew — despised, mostly because he or she was good-looking, popular, athletic and, in a way, represented a level of perfection you most certainly would never reach?
I was born and raised in a place that's often misunderstood by the outside world. A strange place that's equal parts beloved and hated. A place called Long Island.
For Emily Mixter, a 21-year-old senior at Michigan State University, seeing her high school friends going off to fight the war in Iraq prompted her to become politically active for the first time in her life.
Really, the question isn't so deep: What is the sound of one hand clapping? Disappointment. It's the echo of unrequited celebration, of a snub. It's the sound of a high-fiver left hanging.
Recently I was at a craft show checking out the work of a vendor, a DIY collective that claims to promote social justice through art. I was looking at the jewelry when I noticed a bumper sticker prominently displayed.
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