Alison Snyder

Wherever you go, there you are 🙏🏻💜

[CYBRGAL @cybrgalaxy]

Interviewed my almost 95 year old dad about his experience with his one month old Tesla Y. Here’s what he said both the good and the bad. Please show anyone on the fence about getting a Tesla Full a self Driving car or truck. It may change their mind.

[Governor Newsom Press Office (parody) @AwesomeNewsom]

DEAR MR. TRUMP,

THANK YOU FOR SUBMITTING YOUR APPLICATION TO THE NOBEL PEACE PRIZE COMMITTEE. WHILE WE REVIEW YOUR "LIVING IN HELL" STATEMENT OF LOVE AND PEACE, WE SUGGEST YOU APPLY TO THE INTERNATIONAL COURT AT THE HAGUE. YOU ARE EXACTLY WHO THEY'RE LOOKING FOR.

[JB Pritzker @JBPritzker]

Stephen Miller can call me whatever he wants. The bill is still $8,679,261,600.

Pay up.

[John Elwood @johnpelwood]

I am not even a sports fan, but I recognize a transcendent moment when I see it.

If you look like this when the entire world is watching your final exam, well, that's one for the ages. I'm glad that I was there to see it.

[Kamala Harris @KamalaHarris]

Liam Ramos is just a baby. He should be at home with his family, not used as bait by ICE and held in a Texas detention center.

I am outraged, and you should be too.

[Barack Obama @BarackObama]

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. dedicated his life fighting for equity and justice. He taught us that even in the face of intimidation and discrimination, we must never stop working towards a better future – a lesson that feels especially relevant today.

Change has never been easy. It takes persistence and determination, and requires all of us to speak out and stand up for what we believe in. As we honor Dr. King today, let’s draw strength from his example, and do our part to build on his legacy.

[Mr PitBull Stories @MrPitbull07]

"Your son might work in a grocery store bagging groceries for the rest of his life."

Someone said this to me right after my son Jack was diagnosed with autism.

Over the years, the words stuck with me.

I thought about them when he couldn't sit for circle time in kindergarten.

When he couldn't take the bus home from school safely.

When he started middle school, then high school.

Fast-forward.

Jack is twenty-one now.

He works in a grocery store.

He cuts fruit in the produce department.

He works from 8:00 - 2:00 three days a week.

He sets his alarm.

He puts on his uniform.

He walks to the bus station.

He arrives on time.

In this life alongside autism, I've learned it's not always about the destination, but how you got there in the first place.

I've learned that a life lived differently is not a life less lived.

Any any work, not matter what kind, is honorable.

What a beautiful thing.

Please join me in congratulating my son Jack on the first four months at his job.

We are fiercely proud of him.

Credit: Carrie Cariello

[Maria Shriver @mariashriver]

I loved Michele and Rob Reiner. They were among my closest friends. We raised our kids together, from mommy and me on up. We laughed together, we cried together, we played together, we dreamed together. We had dinner this past week, and they were in the best place in the their lives: loving one another, loving their friends, their family, their country. They never gave up on our country. They wanted to make it better. They always, always wanted to make our world better, and they were willing to fight to make it the country they loved.

I loved them, and I knew they loved me, for any friend like that is such a gift. They gave me and all their friends that gift all the time. They loved their kids so much, and they never stopped trying to be really good parents. My love is with their family. I’m so sad for them. I’m devastated, gutted, shocked, stunned, and so deeply saddened, as are all of the people who loved them and who they loved. I hope people remember them as two deeply talented, kind, fun, loving, good, patriotic people who loved each other deeply.

I’ll miss you, Michele. I’ll miss you, Rob. I love you both. Thank you for your friendship. God bless you both. Life will not be the same without you here, that’s for sure. ♥️

[Adam Kinzinger (Slava Ukraini) 🇺🇸🇺🇦 @AdamKinzinger]

The most classless human on the planet ladies and gents

[Mr PitBull Stories @MrPitbull07]

"My name's Raymond. I'm 73. I work the parking lot at St. Joseph's Hospital. Minimum wage, orange vest, a whistle I barely use. Most people don't even look at me. I'm just the old man waving cars into spaces.
But I see everything.

Like the black sedan that circled the lot every morning at 6 a.m. for three weeks. Young man driving, grandmother in the passenger seat. Chemotherapy, I figured. He'd drop her at the entrance, then spend 20 minutes hunting for parking, missing her appointments.

One morning, I stopped him. "What time tomorrow?"
"6:15," he said, confused.
"Space A-7 will be empty. I'll save it."
He blinked. "You... you can do that?"
"I can now," I said.

Next morning, I stood in A-7, holding my ground as cars circled angrily. When his sedan pulled up, I moved. He rolled down his window, speechless. "Why?"
"Because she needs you in there with her," I said. "Not out here stressing."
He cried. Right there in the parking lot.

Word spread quietly. A father with a sick baby asked if I could help. A woman visiting her dying husband. I started arriving at 5 a.m., notebook in hand, tracking who needed what. Saved spots became sacred. People stopped honking. They waited. Because they knew someone else was fighting something bigger than traffic.
But here's what changed everything, A businessman in a Mercedes screamed at me one morning. "I'm not sick! I need that spot for a meeting!"

"Then walk," I said calmly. "That space is for someone whose hands are shaking too hard to grip a steering wheel."

He sped off, furious. But a woman behind him got out of her car and hugged me. "My son has leukemia," she sobbed. "Thank you for seeing us."

The hospital tried to stop me. "Liability issues," they said. But then families started writing letters. Dozens. "Raymond made the worst days bearable." "He gave us one less thing to break over."

Last month, they made it official. "Reserved Parking for Families in Crisis." Ten spots, marked with blue signs. And they asked me to manage it.

But the best part? A man I'd helped two years ago, his mother survived, came back. He's a carpenter. Built a small wooden box, mounted it by the reserved spaces. Inside? Prayer cards, tissues, breath mints, and a note,

"Take what you need. You're not alone. -Raymond & Friends"
People leave things now. Granola bars. Phone chargers. Yesterday, someone left a hand-knitted blanket.
I'm 73. I direct traffic in a hospital parking lot. But I've learned this: Healing doesn't just happen in operating rooms. Sometimes it starts in a parking space. When someone says, "I see your crisis. Let me carry this one small piece."

So pay attention. At the grocery checkout, the coffee line, wherever you are. Someone's drowning in the little things while fighting the big ones.

Hold a door. Save a spot. Carry the weight no one else sees.
It's not glamorous. But it's everything."

Let this story reach more hearts....

Credit: Mary Nelson

[Melanie D'Arrigo @DarrigoMelanie]

Qatar gave Trump a $400 million plane and a $5.5 billion golf course deal.

In case you were wondering, this is how bribes work.

[CALL TO ACTIVISM @CalltoActivism]

🚨MAJOR BREAKING: Pete Hegseth announces that Qatar, an Authoritarian regime, will be authorized to build an Air Force training base on U.S soil in Idaho.

A foreign regime, not a NATO ally, with military inside America…What the actual fuck?

[Marco Foster @MarcoFoster_]

JB Pritzker: “Another thing that’s happened with very few people paying attention is they demanded our voter data. Not just ours in Illinois — every state’s voter data. Why? They won’t tell us why.”

[Jon Favreau @jonfavs]

Trump got a Covid booster from his doctor and then fired a dozens of doctors and scientists who were working to keep the rest of us healthy and alive

[g. @GeauxGabrielle]

NEW ICE recruits get $50,000 sign on bonuses and are eligible for student loan forgiveness

But your active duty military starving?

Yikes.

[Mike Nellis @MikeNellis]

Multiple Chicago schools went on lockdown today because of ICE, including my son’s and the one I’m on the council of. Spent the last two hours standing outside, trying to make sure nothing happens to these kids. This is horrible.

[Fred Wellman @FPWellman]

Weird. I was told it’s a war zone.

[Travis Akers 🇺🇸 @travisakers]

A message from a Kindergarten teacher:

After forty years in the classroom, my career ended with one small sentence from a six-year-old:

“My dad says people like you don’t matter anymore.”

No sneer. No malice. Just quiet honesty — the kind that cuts deeper because it’s innocent. He blinked, then added, “You don’t even have a TikTok.”

My name is Mrs. Clara Holt, and for four decades, I taught kindergarten in a small Denver suburb. Today, I stacked the last box on my desk and locked the door behind me.

When I started teaching in the early 1980s, it felt like a promise — a shared belief that what we did mattered. We weren’t rich, but we were valued. Parents brought warm cookies to parent nights. Kids gave you handmade cards with hearts that didn’t quite line up. Watching a child sound out their first sentence felt like magic.

But that world slowly slipped away. The job I once knew has been replaced by exhaustion, red tape, and a kind of loneliness I can’t quite describe.

My evenings used to be filled with construction paper, glitter, and glue sticks. Now they’re spent filling out digital reports to protect myself from angry emails or lawsuits. I’ve been yelled at by parents in front of twenty-five children — one filming me with his phone while I tried to calm another child mid-meltdown.

And the kids… they’ve changed too. Not by choice.

They arrive tired, anxious, overstimulated. Their tiny fingers know how to swipe a screen before they can hold a crayon. Some can’t make eye contact or wait in line. We’re expected to fix all of it — to patch the gaps, heal the trauma, teach the curriculum, and document every move — in six hours a day, with resources that barely fill a drawer.

The little reading corner I once built, full of soft beanbags and paper stars, was replaced by data charts and “learning metrics.” A young principal once told me, “Clara, maybe you’re too nurturing. The district wants measurable results.”

As if kindness were a weakness.

Still, I stayed. Because of the small, holy moments that no spreadsheet could measure —
a whisper of, “You remind me of my grandma.”
a shaky note that read, “I feel safe here.”
a quiet boy finally meeting my eyes and saying, “I read the whole page.”

Those tiny sparks were my reason to keep showing up.

But this last year broke something in me.

The aggression grew sharper. The laughter in the staff room turned to silence. The light went out of so many eyes. I watched brilliant teachers — my friends — vanish under the weight of burnout, their joy replaced by survival.

I felt myself fading too, like chalk on a board that’s been wiped one too many times.

So today, I began my goodbye. I pulled faded art off the walls and tucked thirty years of handmade cards into a single box. In the back of a drawer, I found a letter from a student from 1998:

“Thank you for loving me when I was hard to love.”

I sat on the floor and cried.

No party. No applause. Just a handshake from a young principal who called me “Ma’am” while checking his notifications.

I left my rocking chair behind, and my sticker box too. What I carried with me were the memories — the faces of hundreds of children who once trusted me enough to reach out their hands and learn. That can’t be uploaded. It can’t be measured. It can’t be replaced.

I miss when teachers were partners, not targets. When parents and educators worked side by side, not in opposition. When schools cared more about wonder than numbers.

So if you know a teacher — any teacher — thank them. Not with a mug or a gift card, but with your words. With your respect. With your understanding that behind every test score is a heart that cared enough to try.

Because in a world that often overlooks them, teachers are the ones who never forget our children.

[LongTime🤓FirstTime👨‍💻 @LongTimeHistory]

ICE detain mother walking to work—to a house in the richest suburb of Chicago.

"She was crying out that she couldn't leave her daughters," witness said.

"She was begging to call her mom for help—who may have her paperwork."

Kenilworth is considered the richest suburb of Chicago—with a median household income that exceeds $250,000

Home prices range from $1.5M to $2M—with some properties listed as high as $5M–$14M.

The village is located about 16 miles north of downtown Chicago along Lake Michigan. #DemsUnited