America Is Not For Black People
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Segregation Now: The Resegregation of America’s Schools - ProPublica
White students once accounted for a majority of the Tuscaloosa school district's students. But by the mid-1990s, they made up less than a third. Total enrollment had dropped from 13,500 in 1969 to 10,300 in 1995. Many white parents had decided to send their children to nearly all-white private schools or to move across the city line to access the heavily white Tuscaloosa County Schools. Tuscaloosa's business leaders and elected officials had witnessed the transformation of other southern cities after their school districts had reached a tipping point—the point at which white parents become unsettled by the rising share of black students in a school, and pull their children from the school en masse. School districts in cities such as Birmingham and Richmond had seen their integration efforts largely mooted: just about all the white students had left. Districts under desegregation orders aren't supposed to take actions that increase racial separation.
Your Friends and Rapists — Medium, Long — Medium
That summer I only listened to “Ceremony” and I remember it didn’t rain. I was nineteen years old. It was the summer after my second year at the University of Western Ontario, which would also be my last year at the University of Western Ontario, and I took a job advertised to students. It was a blank summer. I had it bad for one of them in particular. School began without me. To my boyfriend I said I was going to a party with my friends and to my friends I said I was going to a party with my boyfriend. It was an old Victorian house with wooden floors, except at the top, where the ceilings sloped halfway down the wall and the carpets were thick and gray. What things could I have done. I didn’t cry when I got home, or that night when I did not tell my boyfriend, or the next week when I wondered what I’d wanted. Note that I am also not saying it now. Me: Have you ever thought about just rethinking your position? Paglia: No! Me: Were you having sex with men then? Paglia: Right, exactly.
My Roommate the Prostitute | Narratively | Human stories, boldly told.
It was late morning, and I was putting up a fresh pot of coffee when I heard the first meow. It sounded awfully close, as if from inside the apartment instead of the backyard one story down. Then I heard it again, and there was no doubt. WTF?!! I texted my roommate. I’d made it clear when she moved in: no pets. It’s a friend’s, Jenny texted back. Don’t give me that bullshit, I keyed my reply, then backspaced over it, reconsidering. We need to talk. Later that afternoon, in the kitchen between our bedrooms, we talked, leaning on opposite counters. In the end, I told her she could keep the cat, but she better take care of it properly. “Thanks for not being hard on me,” she said, before disappearing back into her room. That conversation was the longest we’d ever had. So when Jenny showed up, I was inclined to like her. I showed her the room. “Sweet,” she said. I showed her the bathroom. “Sweet.” I assumed this meant she had all those things, and at first, it appeared that she did. “Oh, yeah.”
The big sleep | Mosaic
Imagine it: you have been rushed into the emergency room and you are dying. Your injuries are too severe for the surgeons to repair in time. Your blood haemorrhages unseen from ruptured vessels. But this is not the end. The surgeons continue their work, clamping, suturing, repairing. Suspended animation, the ability to set a person’s biological processes on hold, has long been a staple of science fiction. One recipient of that funding was a young James Lovelock. Adventurous as they were, these early experiments did not progress beyond the animal stage, and astronauts were never frozen and revived with hot spoons. In 1900, the British Medical Journal published an account of Russian peasants who, the author claimed, were able to hibernate. A century later, Anna Bågenholm was on a skiing holiday in Norway when she crashed head first into a frozen stream and became trapped under the ice. It’s not the first time the benefits of cold for traumatic injury have been made apparent.
Outlaw on the Big Screen | This Land Press
He was born Napoleon Blackstone Vann, but ever since he was a little shaver, “Nip” Vann was destined to be a star. His monosyllabic name was the perfect size for a movie marquee. Tall, good-looking, and able to make friends with total strangers, Vann was a former Wild West show hotshot in the earliest years of cinema. But a few bad decisions—namely, killing a cop in Caney, Kansas—sealed his fate on the night of November 12, 1913. Vann, born in Fort Gibson, Indian Territory, around 1885 and a Bartlesville resident in the early 1910s, was in Caney—located immediately north of the bullet-strewn border between Kansas and Oklahoma—that November night to find a herd of sheep needed to complete filming of The Escape of Jim Dolan, a two-reel Western that was being filmed near Okesa, Oklahoma. Tall, good-looking, and able to make friends with total strangers, Vann was a former Wild West show hotshot in the earliest years of cinema. Ziegenfuss’ search for Vann had multiple reasons. “Contact made.
