humanity
Humanity begins at home.
Todd's Anti-Valentine's Day Playlist 2021
I hate Valentine’s Day! I bet if you are reading this, you do as well! The playlist below is my 2021 anti-Valentine’s Day List, and what follows is the story of the inspiration behind its curation. Now this is not a normal anti-Valentine’s Day story. What follows is not about long lost love or missed romantic chances; now I have those stories too, even about the time I ended a short lived rebound relationship by sending an even shorter email simply saying “we are done” on Valentine’s Day. No, this is a story about my hero and how his ever constant memory and inspiration is even stronger around Valentine’s Day.
By Todd Gragg5 years ago in Families
What Black Excellence Means To Me. Top Story - February 2021.
The portrayal of Black excellence very often includes an immaculate, fashionable, well-off Black couple that takes trips, runs a multi-million dollar company, have amazing educational accomplishments and raise beautiful children that dress like mini fashion models. While all those things are incredible and I manifest that more brothers and sisters of color will get to experience similar accomplishments; I must state my point that Black Excellence is so much more than those things alone.
By M. McFadden5 years ago in Families
Chateau Charals
The forest swayed gently in the wind as the clouds that floated above Melanie invited her to jump across them. The forest at the edge of the Charals Estate was the most enchanted place. To Melanie, the sparkling dew on the trees in the early morning looked like fairy jewels that added to the magic of the morning.
By Lesley Raymond5 years ago in Families
Time Lost
Tick. Tick. Tick. The clock was the only sound in the room. Silence filled the space as our hearts clenched at the words the attorney had just spoken, “His will and testament is as follows…”. Each grandchild was to receive twenty thousand dollars for their education. Those that had already finished college were free to use the money as they wanted. I was one of the lucky few who would be able to spend their money freely. Grandpa was a strong force in our family. He was incredibly good with money and managed to pass along those values to us kids. He believed that if you worked hard enough for something you could accomplish anything, or die trying. I was the spokesperson for the “die trying” part of his philosophy. In college I majored in English and wanted to pursue a career in writing. I ended up with a bachelors in English and a job working for a retirement facility. I was never one to complain, my grandmother had gotten me the job because she has friends that live there. I am in charge of the group activities.
By Tiffanie Bird 5 years ago in Families
How Deep is Your Love
Hueytown is not as quaint as it sounds. I have nothing against it necessarily, but I don’t want you to think it’s Mayberry. There’s no Main Street or pretty sidewalks through town. But the Alabama city does have a church on every corner, and if it were ever a contest, I’m sure the residents would win first place for the amount of sweet tea consumed on a daily basis.
By Jordan Reeves5 years ago in Families
Luck in Misfortune
Jeanette Abrams, a single mother of four children, stood nervously in a bookstore as she applied for a new job. Her lavender blouse was buttoned up to the collar to appear professional. She had paired the beautiful silk with a black pencil skirt, and casual black heels. Unemployment struck her down wreaking havoc on her family during a large corporate shut down. For her, this silly bookstore job was her rent, her utilities, and food in the mouths of her children. Her goal was to appear professional, and qualified for the position.
By Sabrina Wallace5 years ago in Families
Brockport, New York
What can I say about my little upstate town in western New York? I was born and raised in Brockport and raised my children here. I don’t believe I’ve ever understood the value of this little hidden gem, before now. This historical little storybook college town nestled along the Erie Canal looks like a scene out of the movies. Its Victorian buildings give it the charm of something magical.
By Kristen Viscardi5 years ago in Families
The End of Cherry Season
The End of Cherry Season I was scribbling furiously in my small black notebook. I was sitting in our beat-up barn on a stack of haybales. The horses grunted softly next to me and the air was filled with the smell of fresh hay, packed dirt, and oats that were in the trough next to me. The hay formed a cushion around me, protecting me from the early spring chill along with my tough canvas work jacket.
By Lauren Judith Barclay5 years ago in Families
White
Coming up the icy track my boot slipped upon the rocks stained red with iron. The eroded mesas were fiercely lined with snow, white and martian. Over my shoulder the sun was inching closer to the mountain line, only an hour or so left to get out of the valley before the cold and darkness would make it impossible to return to the shelter. I checked the laces on my boot, and picked the packed snow from the grooves. Everyone thinks the winter is silent. Everyone thinks that snow is white. I heard the far off pacing of the mountain goats, causing the stirred fall of crumbling shale. The bears were all in for their long sleep, and did I imagine, the snapping of that twig? I crouched to the ground and searched with my less perceptive eyes, my eyebrows frozen with mist from above my protected mouth. The pricking of the ears, the raised flag of tail, and then lightly hoofed away, the doe and her almost grown brood. I sighed in relief, if the coyotes were out there would be little I could do to defend myself against a full pack, even if I had carried a gun. It seemed unfair to go against our ancient world with the techniques reserved for modern war. The coyotes were here first, after all, and I was in their house. It was their prerogative to kill me and eat my flesh to nourish them through winter. I paused my journey back to the shelter to drink from an icy stream. The water was like daggers down my throat but it was clean snow melt. My stomach ached from the cold of it. Out from their shelter my lips cracked and began to bleed. A drop fell upon the snow, and I stood, staring at the beauty of that bright carnelian bead freeze upon the down.
By Abigail Godfrey5 years ago in Families
