True, a degree in English won’t teach you to build a bridge, treat leukemia or bring down a Dementor. But the idea is that you could go on to pursue such things in an effective and compassionate way with a foundation based in the Big Ideas and a well-crafted set of directions.
The (Civil) Society Column
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Rising water, strange bedfellows
To melt the stubborn glacier of American energy policy, something drastic needs to happen. Some kind of miraculous meeting of the minds that transcends partisan politics. Something completely outrageous, like, say, green energy liberals aligning with Tea Party activists.
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Honoring Brighter Day’s foodie elders
When Janie and Peter Brodhead opened up Brighter Day in 1978, eating organic was downright revolutionary. Enlightening people about the ethical origins of food was a challenge, especially when culinary choice wasn’t much more than sprinkling wheat germ on salad.
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Desegregation at 50
Those first brave iconoclasts who crossed the color line were less welcomed than quietly ignored, and those who weren’t thrilled about their presence didn’t feel the need to stir up the kind of drama that warranted a LIFE magazine cover.
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Long gone dog days of summer
August readied young minds for life’s inevitable grind with its sheer boring blankness. August built freaking character.
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Death becomes us
my gothic mood found little company at the new facility on Dean Forest Road. Steel drums. At the funeral home. It was surreal. And fantastic.
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Yet another shaggy dog story
I posted a blurry photo of Pretty and was amazed to see it shared dozens of times in less than 10 minutes by friends and strangers — for a minute, Pretty even deposed Grumpy Cat memes and the Rolling Stone bomber cover as top trending topics.
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Ramadan mubarak, y’all
I’ve always been curious about Ramadan’s low profile. I grew up knowing how weird it is to be the only kid in class without a Christmas tree; I can only imagine how it must feel to have to explain why you’re not eating lunch for the next four weeks.
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Kristine Stevens is livin’ the dream
By counting her pennies, she was able to stretch the sojourn into seven months, and she always adhered to a fellow traveler’s admonition to trust her gut.
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American dreamin’
Then we have our own homegrown scandal peppering the pot: The national news trucks double-parked in front of the Lady and Sons may have gone home, but the bad taste lingers. And it’s not because someone overcooked the okra.
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Through a PRISM darkly
Corporations have been tracking our buying habits and favorite websites for years for their own gain, but no one’s tearing their hair out over a Papa John’s coupon floating on their screen for six months after they accidentally clicked on the website.
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Port of Savannah truckers unite
I took a ride with port trucker Carol Cauley last week to find out more about their plight. A single mom with a wedge haircut and wraparound sunglasses, Carol looks more like she belongs cheering on the sidelines of a soccer field than driving a big rig.