Emely Ou Feng dreams of one day becoming an investigative journalist. But the 16-year-old hasn’t had many opportunities to pursue that goal at school for one simple reason: her Brooklyn campus doesn’t have a student newspaper.

“I kind of knew from my freshman year that I wanted to be a journalist,” said Emely, a junior at John Dewey High School. “I should be supported by my school, you know, to pursue my passion.”

Instead, Emely has found outside programs and internships to hone her craft, although her school recently started offering a journalism elective and she jumped at the chance to enroll.

Emely is hardly alone. About 73% of the city’s high schools don’t have student newspapers or websites, according to a new study by Geanne Belton, journalism professor and director of the high school journalism program at Baruch College, part of the City University of New York.

“I think it’s a great loss for a school and for students if there isn’t a newspaper,” Belton said, “especially now that news literacy education is so important.”

Proponents of student journalism argue that news collection programs are essential because they provide opportunities to develop writing skills, build community, hold school leaders accountable, and build a more racially and socioeconomically representative pipeline of professional journalists. Some of the city’s high schools already boast powerful newspapers that repeatedly break the news and push mainstream news outlets to scramble to adjust their reporting.

But it is up to individual schools to operate and fund student intelligence services, and many schools face competing demands ranging from helping students catch up academically to offering more STEM-related activities. Newspapers can be hard work, especially when student interest falters or staff supporting them leave.

Students have unequal access to newspapers

Between 2021 and 2022, Belton and a team of research assistants surveyed almost every public high school if they had intelligence services for students. Although historical data is limited, there is some evidence that student newspapers have shrunk over the past 15 years, although by exactly how much is not clear. Belton’s team also found large disparities in newspaper access across the city by race, geography and poverty status.

High schools in Queens and Staten Island have newspapers far more often than those in the Bronx or Brooklyn. More than three-fourths of schools with the highest concentrations of White and Asian American students have newspapers, while only 8% of schools with high concentrations of Black students and 16% of schools with larger proportions of Latino students do, according to the report the report.

All of the technical schools, which are among the pickiest high schools in the city, have student newspapers. (The study excludes charter schools and certain alternative programs, including District 75, which enrolls students with more severe disabilities.)

Jose Santana, a junior at Dr. Richard Izquierdo Health & Science Charter School of the Bronx said he wished the school had a news organization, in part to report on extracurricular activities besides sports. During his freshman year, the school started a radio club, but he said it was advertised mostly via email and soon fizzled out in part due to a lack of interest.

A student news organization could “help students speak out for things that are happening,” Jose said. “It would definitely make sense to encourage clubs.” Jose has also pursued journalism opportunities off campus, working as an intern on a podcast called “Miseducation,” which focuses on educational inequality.

External groups are working to fill gaps

There are growing efforts to increase the number of student intelligence services. As part of their survey, Belton asked high schools that don’t have student newspapers if they would be interested in starting one. She started a training program for educators who had expressed interest, covering everything from the basics of writing a news story to the right website platform. And thanks to outside funding, she was able to hand out $1,000 in honoraria to teachers to help them get started.

“We’re really trying to jump-start newspapers,” Belton said, adding that the goal is to launch 25 new student newspapers by the end of 2023. (Belton’s survey and training program was funded by the Google News Initiative and The Charles H. Revson Foundation. Chalkbeat is also funded by Revson.)

However, training is only the first step. “When some schools run a newspaper club, they compete with a lot of other clubs and the students’ time,” Belton said. “You have to get students interested when a lot of students don’t know what a school newspaper is.”

Bronx teacher David Fulco knows how tedious the process is. After attending Belton’s training earlier this year, with the support of the principals, he recruited about 17 juniors to start a news organization. Armed with much practical advice from Belton and having worked as a journalist earlier in his career, he figured they would have no trouble publishing at least twenty stories by the end of the school year. They released closer to five.

“I have worked with newspapers before. I worked in an editorial office. It was tremendously difficult,” said Fulco, who teaches English at the Laboratory School of Finance and Technology. “It’s a brand new way of writing that you’re being asked to do. It requires an overhaul that they hate. It requires editing that is so difficult.” He also found that he had to prepare detailed lessons that took time to create.

Fulco is optimistic that the school newspaper will catch on and grow. “It’s gratifying to see your work, but it’s not as instantaneous as the gratification they can get through their social media,” he said. “They see a newspaper as a vehicle for change, even more so than a student council.”

Denisse Merino, a senior at Manhattan Leadership and Public Service High School, has seen the impact of her own journalism. Her school started a news organization for students after attending Belton’s training. Last month, Denisse wrote a story criticizing the school administration for not planning field trips specifically geared towards the high school, including field trips to museums or college visits.

The school management initially “rejected” the idea, the article says. But after the story played, Principal Philip Santos met with Denisse and two other students and agreed to monthly trips – including a trip to the cinema later that month.

Santos said the article reminded him that high school had disrupted much of her high school experience with the pandemic, which struck during her freshman year and limited opportunities for field trips. “The newspaper and her article and talking to her friends just did it,” Santos said. “I’m very proud of her.”

For her part, Denisse was “really excited and grateful” for the story’s impact. “We could be heard,” she wrote in one text.

Other efforts to expand access to student journalism are also beginning to bubble up. The Bell, an organization that provides training and support for student journalists, is leading a Youth Journalism Coalition made up of students, lawyers and professional news outlets (including Chalkbeat) to begin developing solutions.

“New York City is the media capital of the world, but we have youth media deserts all over the city and it doesn’t have to be that way,” said Taylor McGraw, managing director of The Bell. “We’re going to need investment from the big players in this ecosystem — the DOE, the CUNY system, and the media.”

Students have begun to press School Chancellor David Banks whether he could support more aggressive efforts to expand student journalism, especially as he has emphasized career-oriented educational options.

At a press conference with student reporters, a student at Susan Wagner High School on Staten Island Banks asked if the education department planned to increase access to journalism opportunities for students, especially given the wide disparity in which students have access to them.

Banks acknowledged that the issue wasn’t “top of mind,” but left the door open to change.

“Anything that raises the students’ voices is important to me,” he said.

Alex Zimmerman is a reporter for Chalkbeat New York covering New York public schools. Contact Alex at [email protected].

Following the results of yesterday’s midterm election, seven Cornellians – mostly incumbents – will run in the 118th Congress, with one remaining race too close to call at time of publication. In addition, one candidate lost the parliamentary election.

The seven elected members of Congress, plus Jamie McLeod-Skinner, MRP ’95, whose race is too close to name, represent several parts of Cornell: Reps. Katherine Clark JD ’89 (D-Mass.) and Sharice Davids JD ’10 (D-Kan.) are graduates of Cornell Law School, Rep. Elissa Slotkin ’98 (D-Mich.) majored in rural sociology at the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences, during Rep. Dan Heuser ’88 (R.-Pa.) was a government major in the College of Arts and Sciences.

Katherine Clark JD ’89 (D-Mass.) easily won re-election over Republican challenger Caroline Colarusso (R-Mass.) by nearly 75 percent of the vote. This is Clark’s fifth full term since taking office in a 2013 special election to replace the then MP. Ed Markey (D-Mass.) after his successful election to the Senate. She also serves as Deputy Speaker of the House of Representatives.

Monsignor Michael J. Doyle, 88, an Irish-born Catholic priest who became one of Camden’s most eloquent and effective advocates, died Friday at his home across from Sacred Heart Church, the borough where he spent nearly half a century been a pastor for a long time.

Father Doyle, who was diagnosed with jaw cancer in 2016, retired in 2020 and after contracting COVID-19 about two months ago, he was recovering at a Cherry Hill nursing facility. But he wanted to get back to his humble townhouse, where he enjoyed watching kids coming and going from Sacred Heart School, and he did two weeks ago.

“He longed to come home,” Teresa Reader, Sacred Heart’s longtime business and office manager, said Friday.

“He touched people’s hearts in a way that people aren’t used to,” she said. “It has been a privilege to work for such a lovely, kind and loving man.”

Former Camden Mayor Dana Redd, now CEO of Camden Community Partnership, has known Father Doyle since she was a student at Sacred Heart. After the death of her parents in 1976, “Father Doyle and the Sacred Heart community embraced my brother and I and our family with an outpouring of love and support that lasted for many years,” she said.

“Father Doyle was an angel who loved Camden with all his heart and soul,” Redd said. “We were blessed to have him.”

Camden County Commissioner Jeff Nash described Father Doyle as “a true philanthropist who has worked tirelessly to improve the lives of Camden City residents for more than 50 years.”

“His impact on Camden City has been remarkable,” Nash said in a statement. “Without him, this community would not be where it is today.”

Father Doyle, who once said becoming a pastor at Camden was the “greatest gift that could ever have been given to me,” was vigilant and communicative until October 14, when he suffered a stroke and was placed in a hospice.

Late last week, friends, community members and officials made a pilgrimage to the block of Jasper Street, renamed Michael Doyle Lane in 2018.

“He had courage and conviction,” said Father Doyle’s niece, Geraldine Dobson, who had flown over from Ireland with her sister, Rosemarie Cusack, to see her uncle before he died.

“He had tenacity and perseverance and also real courage,” Dobson said.

Among the visitors was Sean Dougherty, who directed the 2008 documentary Poet of Poverty about Father Doyle. Dougherty also filmed and released video of a prayer service outside Father Doyle’s house last Sunday.

Father Doyle and his ministry were also the centerpiece of a documentary by filmmaker Douglas Clayton, Heart of Camden, released in 2021. Clayton, who lives in Florida, said that he uses the film as a teaching tool in a leadership development program and that the students “were inspired by Father Doyle to do their part to make the world a better place.”

Father Doyle’s visitors tried to shake hands with the priest who had inspired tens of thousands of ordinary people – and more than a few celebrities – to help repair and restore Sacred Heart Church, the surrounding neighborhood and the city itself hold or whisper in his ear.

“In a way, we knew [his death] was getting closer,” said Dougherty, who lives in West Deptford. “But it seemed like he was going to be here forever.”

Father Doyle oversaw a complete restoration of Sacred Heart Church and its artwork that took several decades and in 1986 founded Heart of Camden, a non-profit organization that has renovated and sold 250 homes in what is now Waterfront South.

Father Doyle also revived and supported the community’s K-8 school; His elegantly written monthly letters to thousands of donors and supporters worldwide typically raised $1 million annually. He collected and published the letters in a 2002 volume entitled It’s a horrible day – thank God.

“I was so happy to see him last week and to sit by his side and explain to him that what he did meant so much to me,” said Academy Award-winning documentary filmmaker Anthony Giacchino, who works with Sacred Heart grew up.

Father Doyle’s support was also instrumental in the creation of the Waterfront South Theatre, the Nick Virgilio Writers House and the Camden FireWorks arts center in a neighborhood once slated for large-scale demolition.

Father Doyle, a personable priest with a tasty accent, knew how to get things done in a city where political and other obstacles seemed insurmountable. In the 1990s, he initiated a campaign to pressure Camden County Public Utilities to install odor controls and create parks to mitigate the impact of the regional treatment plant on residents of Waterfront South.

“Michael used the phrase ‘throw your hat over the fence’ when speaking of projects to revitalize Waterfront South,” said Henry Brann, one of the leaders of the effort to build the Writers House on a corner lot that had been vacant for decades .

“He [said] We had to throw that hat [and] explain that we would build a writers house. We were in disbelief,” said Brann, a longtime Sacred Heart parishioner who lives in Philadelphia. “We had no means, no resources, it was a moonshot. But Father Doyle’s vision encouraged our group…[and] the Writers House opened in 2018.”

Michael John Doyle was born on November 3, 1934 in the farming village of Rossduff, County Longford, Ireland. His family made a living mainly by selling eggs. Later, Father Doyle would often say that although there were no books in the house, many conversations took place.

He studied for the priesthood at St Peter’s Seminary in County Wexford, where he was ordained 3 May 1959. Recruited by the Camden Diocese, he came to America in September to teach at Camden Catholic High School.

Father Doyle also taught at Villanova University, where he earned a master’s degree in education in 1962 and later served as an assistant pastor in diocesan parishes in Cape May County and the city of Camden, including St. Joan of Arc in the city’s Fairview neighborhood.

“I don’t know if he ever had anything other than the priesthood in mind,” said Pat Mulligan, who grew up with Father Doyle in Rossduff and remembers him as “someone with strong convictions, a strong Christian belief in peace and justice . ”

Appointed pastor of Sacred Heart Church in 1974, Father Doyle often said he was unsure whether the appointment was a reward or a punishment. Just a year earlier, he and other members of the “Camden 28,” a group of anti-war activists who broke into the city’s federal courthouse to destroy draft committee files in 1971, had been acquitted of all charges.

“Michael wasn’t sure why he was sent to Sacred Heart,” Mulligan said. “The church was as low as it could get at that time. The church had been beautiful but it was really collapsing and the houses in the area were collapsing.”

“But because of his inspiration, his teaching, and his skill … people from all over the Philadelphia area started coming into the church,” Mulligan said. “He attracted a lot of people who were looking for something.”

Mezzo-soprano Barbara Dever said her operatic career and soul were nurtured at Sacred Heart and by Father Doyle himself.

“So many people came to Sacred Heart because the music and liturgy were all inviting,” said Dever, who first met Father Doyle when he was a religion teacher at Camden Catholic High School and has sung professionally around the world.

“Michael was always about hope,” she said. “He wanted Camden to be a sign of hope.”

Father Doyle also never lost his passionate commitment to peace and social justice.

Giacchino’s 2007 documentary, camden 28, is his favorite of the films he has made, he said. He uses it while teaching a course at Rutgers-New Brunswick on the arrest and trial of Father Doyle and his associates.

Giacchino spoke to Father Doyle about the teaching when he visited him in Camden last week. “I told him, ‘The spirit of the Camden 28 lives on,’ and he squeezed my hand,” Giacchino said.

“I know he heard that.”

Father Doyle is survived by a sister, Phylis O’Reilly, and eight nieces and nephews, all in Ireland.

Funeral arrangements are pending under the direction of Healey Funeral Homes in Haddon Heights.

JAY — At a special meeting Monday evening, Oct. 24, the board of directors at Regional School Unit 73 heard from a concerned parent before indefinitely expelling two students at Spruce Mountain High School.

Livermore’s Timothy “Tim” Walton, parent of two prospective high school students, said he and his wife enjoyed the support of Superintendent Scott Albert, SMHS Director TJ Plourde, SMHS Assistant/Physical Director Marc Keller and School Resource Officer Cpl. Joseph Sage.

“My message is simple,” Walton said. “No child of color or religion should be afraid to go to public school in this state or anywhere in the country. Racism at any level or at any age, whether student, teacher, coach or school board member, should not be tolerated.”

Two Livermore Falls teenagers were charged Thursday, October 13, with each drawing a swastika and writing a racial slur in two bathrooms at Spruce Mountain High School. A 15-year-old and a 17-year-old each received a subpoena for criminal mischief, a misdemeanor, Sage said at the time. The students were handed over to their parents.

This incident, the picture that was seen, just doesn’t belong here, Walton said. “These kids learned it somewhere,” he remarked. “That’s the problem with the community.

“Your job is to make sure we don’t have that problem at school,” Walton said. “A 10-day ban is no more than a second. These kids have to go. A message needs to be sent here tonight that this does not belong in school.

“A Jewish student, or a child of color or mixed race, or a high-percentage African American like my daughter shouldn’t have to come to school in fear for her life,” he noted. “When you write on the wall ‘a common racial slur against black people,’ it means only one thing.

“If you think for a second that Uvalde or the shooting in St. Louis today or anything else at this school can’t happen, guess again,” Walton said. “They need a team of school resource officers, a team of administrators, a team of school board members to look into stopping it, and it’s not going to be the doors I just came through that are going to stop them.

“The next day my daughter has to worry about getting into this school, fear for her life because of the color of her skin will be the last day she gets into this school,” Walton said.

Walton appreciated having a unanimous board, which is rare, he said.

A closed session of about an hour was followed by a unanimous vote to “disbar Student A indefinitely for conduct that was willfully fraudulent and disorderly and for the peace and usefulness of the school and to direct the Superintendent to establish a re-entry plan.”

Regarding Student B, Jay’s Director Jodi Cordes abstained, while all other directors voted to expel that student after a second closed session of about an hour and a half. Part of the application for this student was changed to “…for behaviors that…” were changed.

Directors supporting both expulsions were Livermore Falls’ Robin Beck, Lenia Coates and Phoebe Pike; Livermore’s Holly Morris, Tasha Perkins and Andrew Sylvester; and Elaine Fitzgerald, Patrick Milligan, Robert Staples and Chantelle Woodcock from Jay.

Jay principals Joel Pike and Lynn Ouellette were absent, as was Livermore Falls student representative Ava Coates.

” previous

Tom Fletcher as a child wearing his pajamas while playing guitar in front of a microphone, recreating the same image in 2022

Born in 1985, Tom Fletcher is a hit songwriter turned bestselling author of children’s books. After missing out on a spot on Busted in 2001, he landed a record deal with pop-punk foursome McFly, one of the biggest hit groups of the decade with tracks like Obvious, Five Colors in Her Hair and All About You. Fletcher has written 10 UK No.1 singles and 21 Top 10 hits, and has written for the likes of One Direction, Busted and 5 Seconds of Summer. His latest book, Space Band, accompanied by an album performed by McFly, is available now. He lives with his wife, TV personality Giovanna Fletcher, and their three children.

In this photograph, I’m performing at the house in Harrow where I grew up. I guess the guitar was a recent Christmas present so I was probably just starting to learn to play it. I must have been four.

In the corner are my father’s legs and his pair of unusually fat socks. He was a huge Rolling Stones fan and my mom was obsessed with Bryan Adams so I probably played a song by one of those artists or by Dr. Hook, whom I loved even though his lyrics are very inappropriate for a child. Dad worked in a Kodak factory and was in bands, played in pubs and workmen’s clubs while Mum was a dinner lady and teaching assistant. We had a small house and not much money, but they still managed to give me the most magical childhood.

That being said, I was a very emotional kid. I was very into films, but seeing horrible footage stayed with me for a long time – I couldn’t deal with violence and the kind of nasty videos shared when you’re young would leave a lasting impression. I also had a strong attachment to objects. I would assign personalities to clothes; It was real heartbreak when I ripped something. I remember once losing a scarf and thinking it was the end of the world. I think if I look back I can see that I had mild mental health issues as a kid.

My parents never pushed me in any direction but they were keen to invest in my passions. I started at the Sylvia Young Theater School when I was nine – an amazing experience that totally defined me as a person. I would compare it to Hogwarts, but instead of magic, you make music. I hadn’t had a great time in elementary school – I was the oddball because I loved performing while everyone else was playing soccer – so it was great to finally fit in.

This school was not only crucial for me musically, but also the place where I met my wife. One September I was sitting in a meeting and we were told that “new children are joining us.” Giovanna walked in and I nudged my friend and said, “Cor, she’s fit,” like you do when you’re 13. Since our last names both started with F, she came over and sat next to me. I said “Hi, my name is Tom but you can call me T”; A few hours later I asked her to be my girlfriend. She said yes, then I left her at the end of the week. It was back and forth for a few years before it went away — and I was heartbroken. After I bombarded her with cheesy ballads I’d written—there was one called Anything that said, “I’d do anything for you, uuu”—she took me back. Ten years of marriage and three children later, it was worth it!

After theater school I auditioned for many boy bands and it drained me, so much so that I almost didn’t go to the Busted audition. In the end, my mother convinced me. I got in but a few days later they called and said they wanted it to be a trio. So I was outside. Taking this opportunity was totally devastating and embarrassing, but it made me realize how badly I wanted to be in a band.

I moved in with Danny [Jones]Harry [Judd] and dougie [Poynter] the weekend after my 18th I had a birthday party at my parents house, then Danny and I got into my Fiat Punto and drove to our new apartment. The McFly house was gross. Harry was the worst – he still is. We were about a year and a half and our management realized we needed a cleaner and someone to feed us – I gained seven pounds in the first year from eating crap and we had roaches, maggots and ants all over the floor . That’s what happens when you get four guys who have never lived away from home before trying to fend for themselves.

Fame was difficult at 18. Of course it’s exciting, but suddenly realizing that you no longer have privacy was a tough transition. People threw things at us as we walked down the street or yelled at us. The bands we loved and looked up to had a very different demographic than McFly, so if we wanted to see the Used or Blink-182, we’d get the shit out of us from pissed-off 20-year-olds at their gigs. We had to start bringing in security, but I felt really lame going to Brixton Academy with a big guy next to me all the time, so I accepted that I wasn’t going to concerts anymore. My world got smaller; I became a complete recluse. Luckily I was still with Giovanna and drove to her tiny apartment in Sidcup after the band at midnight. It became my escape – a place to hide, where I didn’t have to see or talk to anyone. The next day she would go to college and I would stay indoors or put on a hat and try to go to Bluewater [shopping centre].

It was pretty quick for us and as principal songwriters there were certain expectations, especially after we broke the Beatles’ record of being the youngest band to top the albums chart. We weren’t given much free time: in 2004 we were only given one afternoon where we had three hours off. While it was relentless, I also loved it. I’m mildly bipolar, so the pressure to keep being creative really resonated with the manic side of my personality — the excitement and need to be creative feeds the mania. I wasn’t aware of my condition at the time, but now I see that the creative periods on the other hand plummeted into terrible depressions that often lined up perfectly with the cycle of our lives in the band: writing, recording, touring, promoting and then on crash. One of the scary things about being bipolar is trying to manage your condition when you don’t want to lose your creativity.

Luckily my life is so much more stable now. It’s not just that I write books, but having children has changed my life. Now I eat better, exercise and sleep more. I have to take care of myself so I can take care of my kids.

It’s also a lot easier to walk down the street. There was a weird shift a few years ago when I started going out and getting the loveliest comments from people. Strangers came up to me and shook my hand. When it first happened I was so nervous, paranoid that they might say something mean or do something to me. But these days, people just want to say something nice. Those bad experiences make everything so much sweeter.

There is often comfort in the familiar.

You can wear that old sweater. Grab a stool in your cozy corner pub. Order the “usual” at your favorite restaurant. Or you can take a book with the name Scott Turow on the cover.

In his latest Suspect, you’ll find Turow in fine form. Soothing, yes, but also pleasantly fresh and creative.

He was never a flashy writer. But he will make you turn the pages of a book, so powerful is his plot, so breathtaking are his twists and surprises and so colorful are his characters. The star of this new novel is one we’ve met before.

Clarice “Pinky” Granum starred in Turow’s previous novel, the terrific 2020 The Last Trial. She was the granddaughter of one of Turow’s great characters, attorney Alejandro “Sandy” Stern, who had been around since that first blockbuster in the 1990s. “Probably innocent.”

Turow’s books have come in a steady stream ever since, with Stern in roles large and small. Turow’s 11 best-sellers have sold more than 30 million copies combined, and there are film versions of The Burden of Proof, Innocent, Presumed Innocent, and Reversible Errors.

Turow also found the time and energy — don’t ask me how — to have a successful career as a lawyer, serving not only as Assistant US Attorney in the Operation Greylord trial but later in his private practice at the liberation helped an innocent man off death row and volunteered for years on wrongful convictions and death penalty reform.

He has also written non-fiction, served as President of the Authors Guild, occasionally plays music for charity with this band of celebrated novelists known as the Rock Bottom Remainders, and contributes guest commentary to a variety of publications.

His success as a novelist inspired a generation of lawyers to put pen to paper, so to speak. Results have varied, with few finding Turow-like success and praise (John Grisham and David Ellis come to mind the quickest).

In The Last Trial, after overcoming a drug-addicted teen, Pinky became a paralegal for her grandfather’s law firm and “a frequently annoying clerk.” Sandy’s “love for his granddaughter is beyond his comprehension,” but he still believes she “has a solid future as a private investigator.”

By bringing her back in full color, Turow has created one of the most intricately compelling characters in contemporary fiction, one not easy to admire but impossible to ignore.

Still quite a handful at 33, pierced and tattooed, she works as a licensed private investigator for 52-year-old attorney Rik Dudek, mainly on nickel-and-cent cases, bar fights and whatnot.

Now they have a big deal and are taking care of the problems of Police Chief Lucia Gomez-Barrera, who has been accused by three officers of swapping sex for promotions.

It would be unfair to reveal too many twists and turns on this case. But I will tell you that Gomez-Barrera is an intriguing and finely drawn character and these three officers are a bad bunch. Add to that an odd neighbor, mixed sexual signals from lovers old and new, scandals and crime galore.

One can sense the fun Turow must have had writing as he returned to fictional Kindle County, which bears an unmistakable, welcome resemblance to Chicago and Cook County. He feels comfortable there and knows the territory, a place full of dark sides full of secrets and sins.

And it’s a pleasant surprise to see Sandy Stern again. He no longer practices law and lives in assisted living. But he has a girlfriend and sees Pinky every week. He loves her and she loves him. As she tells us in Suspect: “I’m not sure if I believe in the afterlife or mediums, but somewhere in my innermost core I’m sure he’ll show up long after he’s gone, when I really need him.”

Here is hope.

Rick Kogan is a columnist for the Chicago Tribune.

Assume

Through: Scott Turow.

Publisher: Grand Central, 448 pages, $29.

I retired this fall after almost 40 years as an editor Duke Magazine, the university‘s alumni magazine. That’s a long time on a campus—a lot of time to gather institutional and college knowledge. I figured that after all this time there weren’t many campus features that I hadn’t figured out. I had a big project, early retirement, and that was writing a book about the university pandemic period – how COVID impacted not only the campus as a physical space, but also as a place for discovery, personal growth, individual and collective well-being -His and much more. In such an immersive endeavor, I learned a lot about how a campus manages a health crisis. I also learned some other things.

First, much of a campus’ good work happens behind the scenes. During the pandemic, Duke put me in touch with workers who too often are perceived as just supporters of the company, but who actually make the company possible. Essential workers, indeed. One of many people I met was Valerie Williams, who oversees Duke’s main freshman dining room. Your arrival at Duke predates my own by four decades. Her grandmother had been in a similar role at university; She still has the severance of one of her grandmother’s paychecks. Her grandmother advised her to work diligently and look for opportunities to advance. That’s exactly what she did. She became chef, assistant manager, and finally manager. She was thinking hard when I asked what had propelled her through the depths of the pandemic. “Seeing people happy,” she said.

Another key worker: an on-campus bus system driver, Michael Eubanks, aka Big Mike. He is a self-described person and if I observed him on one of his routes I would confirm this self-description. He was in awe of his students and the “amazing things” they did as students and beyond. He was particularly proud of her social justice work, from protesting sweatshop labor to campaigning for a living wage at Duke.

But he often steered conversations with riding students to life advice. In a campus journal, one student called him “the pseudo-parent we all need at times — never afraid to tell us what we’re doing wrong (like putting our feet on the seats), but always there to remind us of the.” Things to remember we’re doing right.”

Second, while we often hear affectionate references to the “campus community,” the various sub-communities can be vital. These sub-communities provide an important support structure and opportunity for growth. For the book, I took a few tastes of extracurricular life, constrained as it was when the pandemic had shut down so much of campus. A student spoke to me about how he felt accepted by Jewish life at the university. Not that the circumstances of the pandemic made it easy for her to deepen her religious identity: “Much of Judaism is community-focused, being physically together, praying together, and sharing a meal around Shabbat services. It was so sad for me that we would lose the ability to sing together.” But the subcongregation still played an important role in supporting and supporting her – after all, she even had her belated bat mitzvah, a coming-of-age ceremony, through Jewish Life.

The subcommunity of student journalists never missed a beat in producing issues of The chronicle, the student newspaper. The editor when the pandemic hit was Matthew Griffin. In his farewell column, he acknowledged the challenges of an ever-changing pandemic scene: “I often felt overwhelmed. Some days I wondered if I had the strength not to fall apart, let alone run a newspaper.” At the same time, he celebrated the social bonds that motivated his employees, even if the usual bonding events – such as a dodgeball game against the student council – were taboo.

Third, faculties naturally take care of their students—even at large institutions. At a research university like Duke, the faculty compensation system depends much less on being clearly student-centric than on academic achievement. For me, however, it was enlightening to see new evidence of concern from the whole student – the student as a learner, to be sure, but also the student trying to manage the stress of the pandemic.

During the fall 2020 online semester, some professors adjusted their tasks or incorporated unofficial breaks into the academic calendar. Seemingly small professorial gestures were even more meaningful. For example, I heard about Lisa Merschel, a senior lecturer in Romance languages. Earlier this semester, Merschel held virtual discovery sessions with students in small groups right after class. She later facilitated personal “office hours” on campus; Students would sign up for a time slot and meet with Merschel, socially distancing, wearing face masks and with an open agenda. “The most meaningful part of Professor Merschel’s teaching was the sign-off at the end of our meetings,” one of these students told me. Usually it was like that and abrazo-a hug. Sometimes it was “I see you” or “I’m here with you”. Such goodbyes, brief as they were, “never failed in my spirits, even during the busiest weeks of the semester.”

Then there was Tom Ferraro, a longtime English professor who worked hard even in his Zoom box to forge a true learning community. As he told his students, “I know how tired we all are. It’s tough for us.” But during this online experiment, Ferraro endeavored to replicate the conventions of the traditional seminary as much as possible. Close reading, the basis of his seminar, offers, as he puts it, “the tools for life”. Through his assigned texts and relentless questioning, he sought to inspire his students to stretch intellectually—and also to immerse themselves in the works and worlds created by generations of American novelists, poets, and essayists in a time of psychological upheaval.

Fourth, one of the things the campus does best is encouraging shared rituals. When all was secluded, Duke offered his traditional holiday season production The Messiah on-line. Duke Chapel was magnificently adorned on the computer screen and the singers were powerfully displayed. But you really need a real space, not a virtual space, to deal with all that fuss; Viewed from a distance, it was less than a fellowship gathering.

When things finally opened up, I soaked up the authentic campus experience more than ever. The elaborately organized group photo – with the booming voice of the soccer coach setting the direction – of the latest class. The student music theater troupe hanging up The Rocky Horror Picture Show, complete with preprogrammed insults hurled at the cast. As it is, of course, about Duke, the characteristically gruff tone and, in general, the glorious victory of a home basketball game.

Then there was the celebration of a professor’s book on the sacredness of the natural world; Pandemic protocols called for Posttalk reception to offer individual meal portions in clamshell containers. The final day of classes marked by free t-shirts, quad bike games and poems made to order courtesy of a costumed Poetry Fox. An in-person graduation where speaker John Legend told the assembled students that during the pandemic they were “forced to pause – to see each other not in competition but in community with one another”.

Fifth, higher education can be flexible – which was not always an obvious point. I think of the sentiment expressed by former Harvard President Derek Bok 15 years ago in his provocatively titled book Our underperforming universities. Professors, as he pointed out in his conclusion, may be inclined to experiment with their own teaching methods and techniques to stimulate learning. Still, “a majority of faculty are content with the status quo.”

It is significant that students entering Duke this fall will still need to be guided by Curriculum 2000. A faculty effort at curriculum reform failed a few years ago, apparently a victim of competing interests and competing visions; another is just beginning. But the pandemic has challenged status quo thinking, particularly in terms of how classes might be run. One of my sources for the book was Matthew Rascoff, then Associate Vice Provost for Digital Education and Innovation at Duke (now at Stanford University). “A lot of faculty thought they knew how to teach,” he told me. “No one thought they had mastered how to teach online. So, can we challenge some of our assumptions and take a more curious, exploratory approach to what we do? It’s scary to do that when you’re the expert in front of your students.”

A linchpin for what he described as “emergency teaching”—virtual breakout rooms, real-time classroom polls, video conferencing with guest speakers, and everything else—helped define the moment of crisis. “Everyone has realized that they have to be a learner.”

A campus is an interestingly chaotic place. It is therefore perhaps not surprising that even after the many decades of campus life I had not mastered all the intricacies or fully reckoned with all the qualities of this one place – that I still had something to learn. Most importantly, what the process of writing the book underscored is that learning—including learning about the campus itself—is an endless and infinitely rewarding pursuit.

According to prosecutors, it has cost the city $199,263 to defend itself against claims Blackwell has filed against the city, and that does not include settlements that the city paid Blackwell as a result of those claims.

Recently retired Captain Roderick Porter took second place with total costs of $118,884 for defending his lawsuit. And that number is expected to increase with his appointment.

Acting Police Commissioner Rebeca Garcia has so far only cost the city about $9,000 to defend against a lawsuit brought by Porter and other police captains. But this number is also set to increase.

The prosecutor declined to comment.

Thomas Bucci, who represents both Blackwell and Porter, disagreed that his clients cost the city money.

“The city caused it by the way they treated my customers,” he said.

Bucci, who is suing Garcia on behalf of three police captains, declined to comment on the cost of that lawsuit.

Shortly after Rebeca Garcia was named assistant police chief by then-Police Chief Armando Perez in 2019, three police captains Brian Fitzgerald, Steven Lougal and Roderick Porter claimed in a state lawsuit against the city that Garcia’s appointment as assistant police chief was “unlawful” and invalid” and violates the city’s statutes.

The city retained the Hartford law firm of Cowdery and Murphy to represent Garcia.

A judge later ruled that the city’s election of Garcia as deputy police chief violated public service rules and the city charter.

Cowdery and Murphy are now representing Garcia in an appeal against that verdict.

In 2015, Lonnie Blackwell filed a federal sex discrimination lawsuit against the city after he was demoted from lieutenant to sergeant and deposed as head of the department’s police academy.

Another officer claimed that Blackwell ordered him to circulate a fake racist letter within the department.

While then-Chief Perez admitted that he had found no credible evidence to support this claim that Blackwell directed the writing of the letter, Perez nevertheless downgraded Blackwell for the manner in which the letter was reported to authorities.

The city retained Milford law firm Berchem Moses PC to represent them in the case.

Two years later, the city agreed to pay Blackwell an unspecified severance package, and he was promoted to captain.

That same year, Blackwell filed another federal lawsuit against the city, alleging that he was a victim of discrimination in how city officials handled the earlier case.

The city again hired Berchem Moses PC and in 2019 agreed to settle the case for an undisclosed sum.

Last year, Blackwell again filed a federal lawsuit against the city. This time he claims Garcia discriminated against him.

He alleges since he filed a discrimination complaint against Garcia in 2020: “Garcia marginalized the duties and responsibilities of the plaintiff as captain of the Bridgeport Police Department, Garcia treated the plaintiff in front of his superiors, peers and subordinates in a degrading manner.” and disrespectful manner, sometimes displaying her irrational contempt for the Complainant by rolling her eyes in contempt whenever the Complainant made operational and managerial suggestions to the police, and outright refusing any input he would offer.

The city has hired Berchem Moses PC to represent Garcia and the case is currently pending.

A former head of the city’s Interior Department, Roderick Porter was sued along with the city in federal court in 2010 by former officer John Gale.

Gale alleged that Porter attempted to spread false information about Gale after Gale applied to join the state police.

The city agreed to settle the case in 2011 for an undisclosed sum.

In June 2019, Porter filed a federal discrimination lawsuit against the city.

In his lawsuit, Porter alleged that the city engaged in racial discrimination when it failed to promote him three times: first, when Mayor Joe Ganim elected Perez over Porter as acting boss in early 2016; second, when Ganim elected Perez over Porter for the permanent position of chief in November 2018; and third, when Ganim chose Garcia over Porter as acting boss in September 2020.

The city appointed Berchem Moses PC to represent them in the lawsuit.

In August, US District Judge Jeffrey Meyer dismissed the case.

“I conclude that the city provided legitimate, non-discriminatory reasons for its promotion decisions,” the judge said. He also ruled that there was no evidence the city or Garcia retaliated against Porter after he filed his discrimination complaint.

Porter is appealing this decision.

Stephen Sondheim may have written memorable songs that got people’s hearts beating, but the composer and lyricist had a sharp temper when it came to criticism of his work, according to the author of a new book.

Paul Salsini, a former editor of the Sondheim reviewa US quarterly magazine dedicated to the composer recalled how the author of I Feel Pretty and Everything’s Coming Up Roses became enraged in 1996 after reading reviews in the publication.

This particular issue covered his lesser-known musical dedication, which was performed at the Queen’s Theater in London after its Broadway success. The article acknowledged that while British critics generally praised Sondheim’s musicals, their reactions to them were mixed dedication from being described as “Piece from the heart” to the new title “Songs to Cut Your Throat By”. The magazine’s own critic said it was “a little self-conscious and often seeks your approval and acceptance.”

Enough was enough for Sondheim, who took his anger out on the magazine’s editor at the time.

“To my surprise, Sondheim didn’t wait to write,” Salsini said. “He called. He was outraged and started right away. I tried to answer, but he kept interrupting me, ‘How could you print that? They didn’t quote the other reviews accurately. That review wasn’t fair. Did the reviewer Ever seen the show in New York? [Your writer] has no credentials to write about musical theater.’”

When dedication Opened in London in 1996, two years after Broadway, it was a big deal, Salsini said. London critics had always loved Sondheim shows and this show was expected to elicit unanimous acclaim. To the surprise of many – including Sondheim – this was not the case.

“Well, if the Sondheim review kept an account that had reservations, he was, in a word, angry. We had spoken on the phone before, but it was always pleasant. I don’t think anyone has ever reported Sondheim’s anger before. I don’t want to say that this happened often, but it shows that artists can deeply protect their work.”

The journal bore the composer’s name, but Sondheim was not formally associated with the publication. Salsini recalls trying in vain to soothe him: “I couldn’t believe he was really ranting – and that’s the only word for it. He later wrote to apologize for his behavior on the phone but not for what he said.”

Salsini thought it was a “balanced” article about a musical based on Ettore Scola’s Italian film passion d’Amore, with a London production starring Michael Ball. Audiences clearly liked it as it ran for 232 performances. He tried to point out to Sondheim that the review had both positive and negative responses, that the reviewer had seen the New York production twice – even brought to tears – and that they were certainly qualified to review musicals, since they were drama directors for a were national theater and assistant director of an opera company.

Sondheim, who died last November at the age of 91, made his name as Leonard Bernstein’s lyricist for 1957 Westside Story. He became the most important composer and lyricist in modern Broadway history and was showered with awards including an Oscar and a Pulitzer. Salsini, in his forthcoming book SOndheim & Me: A Musical Genius Revealed, published by Bancroft Press. It chronicles Salsini’s relationship with Sondheim during his 10-year tenure as editor of the Sondheim reviewwhich he founded in 1994.

Salsini shares his experiences of interviewing and corresponding with the US composer, including dozens of his notes on articles: “Sondheim read the journal cover to cover, perhaps circling or underlining words or sentences, correcting or clarifying something that others might overlook. Every word had to be clear and correct. He was obviously thinking about it Sondheim review important because it would provide a permanent record.”

Sondheim was surprised by the founding of the magazine and wrote to Salsini: ‘I am flattered, embarrassed and delighted by your interest. I can only hope there will be enough news to justify publication.”

Ironically, the Queen’s Theater has been renamed the Sondheim Theater by its owner, Sir Cameron Mackintosh, who recognizes his influence on musical theater as ‘unparalleled’. It is one of the historic playhouses that Michael Coveney, former theater critic of the observercontains in his new book on Mackintosh’s theatre, master of the house.

Every semester, just before the grades for the first exam in one of my courses, I tell my students a story from my own student days:

I started college as a medical student majoring in psychology. Ultimately, I hoped to become a psychiatrist working for Doctors Without Borders, providing vital mental health care to people in the world’s most underserved places. Then I came to the introductory course in organic chemistry.

Despite my Herculean effort, I knew I hadn’t done well on the first exam; it was just a matter of preparing for impact. When the exams were handed in, the professor announced the best grade in the class, the class average and the worst grade. As I looked at the exam I had just received, I knew I was the lowest grade student.

The professor didn’t name me publicly, but that didn’t matter. There’s no shortage of ways to make students feel guilty without technically violating student confidentiality rules, and this was one of them. Even though other students didn’t know he was talking about me, I would know, and that was more than enough. He stood at the front of the auditorium, dry-erase pen in hand, and began to express his disbelief at how someone could do so poorly on an exam. Whether in agreement or out of sheer uneasiness, my classmates laughed. If someone has done it badly, he mused aloud, they don’t even have to try. With a score that low, he suggested, they’ve probably never come to class.

But there I sat in the aisle seat I’d dutifully taken twice a week, my failed exam hidden on my desk.

Today, several years and a Ph.D. Later in psychology, I tell my students this story for several reasons. For one, I want them to know that it’s normal to experience academic setbacks. They don’t define you, serve as a negative reflection of your character, or indicate that you are destined to fail forever. Rather, they are a universal part of human experience and often serve as valuable learning opportunities. As a matter of fact, research shows that test performance improves after students learn how famous scientists struggled either intellectually or personally to achieve their achievements. Students benefit when they hear that their professors have failed too.

When one of my students sees their score on an exam and wants to do better next time, I want them to know that my teaching assistants and I will help. We’re not (obviously) going to do the work for them, but we’re happy to clarify concepts, offer study tips, or share testing strategies they might not have known they needed. Most importantly, we do this without making them feel guilty about struggling or asking for help.

Most importantly, I tell this story to students as a promise that I won’t be the kind of professor I had in that organic chemistry class years ago.

This professor was Maitland Jones Jr., who was the subject of headlines this month after he was fired from his teaching position at New York University after a student petition objected to his introductory organic chemistry course.

To be clear, it’s not for me to say whether any faculty member deserves to lose their job. That is not what this essay is about. Rather, it’s about how the public reaction to his firing is a story in itself — one that reveals a lot about how we think about college students, the courses they take, and the people who teach them. The fallout also provides an opportunity for faculty members to reflect on how to teach in the most effective — and inclusive — way possible. Here are some of my tips.

Realize that you don’t have to teach the way you were taught. From undergraduate “Gateway” courses to Ph.D. Qualifying exams, there is plenty of academic exercise to identify those who are not “cut out” to what lies ahead. But effective teaching isn’t just about setting high standards and seeing how many—and the – Students can be singled out. Rather, it is about helping each student develop the skills necessary to meet those standards.

Even if you’ve experienced some kind of academic trauma, you don’t have to pass it on to your own students. You can choose to break the cycle. You can tell students to do well even—and especially—after they’ve failed. You can challenge students at the same time and challenge popular assumptions about what it means to teach a “rigorous” college course.

Design a course that gives students space to stumble and recover. In my courses, I have always allowed students to drop their lowest exam grade out of four. As of this year, I’m taking this approach one step further by prioritizing the remaining three exams. In calculating the final grade, each student’s highest score is worth more than the second highest, which in turn is worth more than the third best. When a person’s scores steadily improve from one exam to the next, their overall grade reflects that effort in proportion to their level of improvement. This gives the students an explicit incentive to hold out until the end of the semester.

Regardless of how you approach grading, you can also teach students how to take exams effectively instead of just focusing on what the exam will say. Quite simply, if students don’t know how to study effectively, it may be because no one has ever taught them how to do it. Regardless of your course content or exam format, you can share content evidence-based learning skills and maybe even require students to practice them in class assignments.

After an exam, share tips on how to do better next time. In my exam debriefs, I go through some of the more challenging questions, showing students exactly where the answers came from, and intentionally pulling back the curtain on my question-writing process. I hope they will use this knowledge create your own practice questions and test yourself in advance of future exams.

If, like me, you teach large classes, you may not have the personal breadth or institutional support to apply Pedagogy-Twitter du jour teaching practice. But that doesn’t mean you can’t do it some. Inclusive education is not a panacea. With a little creativity, even those of us who teach more than 500 students each semester can do this, inclusive, although our methods may differ from those of professors who teach 50 students.

Treat students as people and not as caricatures. Inclusive teaching is not just about how you design your courses, but also how you think about your students. In recent years, many columnists have portrayed college students as lazy, spoiled, entitled consumers who don’t understand the importance of hard work — unless, of course, they’re working on a public campaign to “cancel” their professor.

As a faculty member, it was enlightening to see how many of my colleagues not only support this stereotype, but also incorporate it into their daily teaching practice. Even more enlightening? Learning that this stereotype can be applied to a college professor just as easily (if selectively) as it is to today’s students.

To tweet about it From my experience as a former student in Jones’s organic chemistry course, I found myself at the end of the sort of comments not particularly uncommon in faculty conversations about undergraduates. Much to my surprise, my twitter replies told me that I wasn’t up to a challenge and didn’t have the thick skin to survive a day in the “real world”. Complete strangers let me know that I had missed an opportunity to be taught by one of the “world’s best instructors” whom I seriously disrespected by not getting a better grade. Some even argued his teachings saved lives: clearly, had I become a doctor, my patients would not have survived.

Much more could be written about the subtext behind such comments, but I mention them here for a reason. If something sounds ridiculous when addressed to a faculty member, it’s probably worth considering whether that view—even when expressed in a subtle, cryptic way—is universally true when applied to an entire generation.

Instead of assuming the worst about students before they have a chance to prove you right or wrong, why not make other assumptions? Why not assume that the vast majority of students want to be successful and will put in the effort required to do so? And in the meantime, you can take responsibility for fostering a learning environment that challenges students equally and supports.

Like many academics, my teaching philosophy is shaped by the positive and negative experiences I had as a student. If nothing else, here’s what I’ve learned: treat your students as you would like to be treated. Teach the kind of classes you wish you would have taken and be the kind of teacher you wish you had—perhaps even the kind that your students who become professors want to emulate.