Rev. Irene Monroe: Since 1970, Native Americans have gathered at noon on Coles Hill in Plymouth to commemorate a National Day of Mourning on this U.S. holiday.
Steven Singer: Some may shudder or sneer at the prospect of giving shelter to people in need, but that is the reality in our public schools. In the lives of many, many children we provide the only stability, the only safety, the only love they get all day.
Ken Wolf: To significantly reduce systemic injustice in our world (say, by even 50%), we need a billion people, each infused with a passion for compassion and with a social and political intelligence.
Robert Koehler: People are washed ashore. They die of suffocation in humanity-stuffed trucks. They flee war and politics; they flee starvation. And finally, we don’t even have sufficient air for them to breathe.
Denis Campbell: Now the worry is 3,400 people in the Iraqi desert will also be let down because no matter how hard they try, their voices are constantly lost in a sea of “more important” news.
Michele Waslin: New data documenting the underrepresentation of refugees from Africa in the U.S. looks at allegations of fraudulent African family reunification applications, DNA testing programs, and its implications for U.S. refugee and immigration policy.
Sherwood Ross: If Afghans are dying by the thousands and Pakistanis have become refugees by the millions to ensure Obama’s political survival, the U.S. has lost any vestige of moral authority.
Congolese president Joseph Kabila paved the way for a troupe of Spanish Clowns, while thugs and militia rule the Kivus and truth-seeking journalist are threatened.
The midwives need the means to accomplish their noble goal of saving women through direct intervention, HIV/AIDS counseling, and nutrition. This is truly a grassroots effort with a humble beginning that literally transforms grass and roots into life-supporting energy.
Scott McClellan’s new confessional that’s pointed the finger at Bush administration figures in the Valerie Plame scandal reminds me of something my husband got in the mail, in the autumn of 1983. We called it the “I Didn’t Do It” letter. It arrived unexpectedly one afternoon from the offices of gold trader Alan Saxon, the […]