Congo's Ebola outbreak has spread to three new health zones, according to a government report published on Thursday that showed the number of confirmed cases had risen to 676, including 136 deaths.
https://t.co/1SrBJit4nF
Buttigieg: We didn't know it, but we've all been trusting our lives to the restraint of whoever the president might be. And now we have a president who is completely unrestrained. And so the only answer to that is a functioning Congress.
It turns out we do not have a functioning Congress. The House of Representatives is not representative. One of the most important organs of our democracy is not democratic.
They say, "Oh, no. We're not manipulating the map to disempower black people. We're manipulating the map to disempower Democrats who happen to be black people.”
So, the time has come to make it impossible to manipulate the map for any reason and just have fair maps.
My colleagues have put forward proposal after proposal that would address Social Security’s impending insolvency.
We must do what we were sent to the Senate to do and actually debate and vote on these ideas.
Marie Wilcox realized she was the last person on Earth who could speak the Wukchumni language fluently, so at 82, she taught herself to use a computer and spent seven years typing a 6,000-word Wukchumni dictionary, the first written record of the language in history, to save it from extinction.
When U.S. soldiers entered Mauthausen, they found bodies scattered across the camp. One prisoner lay so wasted away that he could not raise his head. As the boots of freedom approached, he whispered faintly, “Don’t step on me, I’m still a man.” His voice carried the last shred of dignity he had left.
A soldier knelt beside him, lifting him gently from the ground. Looking into his hollow eyes, he answered softly: “Brother, you’re more than a man—you survived.” In that fragile exchange, liberation was not just freedom from the camp, but the restoration of humanity itself.
I did not write this, my son's name is James but I feel every word and lived most of them. Well said. VIA Jillian Benfield. T21
This is what it means to parent a child with a disability.
My son, Anderson, scribbles a lot. With limited verbal skills, he’s never told me anything about his drawings. I remember when he was very little, one of his pictures came home with a note from his teacher that said he was drawing “mom”. I lost it. I cried because I never thought to ask him what he was drawing before, I cried because of his intentionality, I cried because I am so proud of him.
This is what it means to be a parent of a child with a disability.
That same year, I had to check Anderson out of school during his lunch period. As I took his hand to lead him away, his classmates yelled, “Bye Anderson!” They continued with their goodbyes as we made the trek all the way across the cafeteria. I told my husband the little anecdote from the day and he started to cry.
This is what it means to parent a child with a disability.
There is a steady undercurrent always flowing beneath the surface. The stream is filled with stress and fear. Stress that we aren’t doing enough, believing enough, stress that others aren’t either. The undercurrent holds both today, tomorrow and the days far, far ahead. The undercurrent is not something we visit every day, but it’s always there.
And it flows and flows and is powered by love.
And then something that may seem ordinary to another is extraordinary to us. And the current bubbles up and shoots through the surface. Because the stress and fear are real and so is the love. When we get these assurances that our kids are okay, that they are happy, we can see how much they have to give and how they are finding their way. And simultaneously, so are we. As we carve out a path together, we start to see our own more clearly.
This path alongside them is unexpected, twisty and lovely. For all of the stress and fear flowing beneath the surface, we arrive at overlooks now and again and the views are stunning. Others may not know the constant undercurrent that rages while parenting a child with a disability, but they also do not access to views we do—and they are extraordinary.
This is what it means to be a parent of a child with a disability. It’s a role, a life, I wouldn’t trade.
Get my free ebook, “5 Spiritual Comforts for Parents of Kids with Disabilities”:
https://t.co/kmrpvBIztr
June 10 · Center Point, Alabama
He showed up to work in his uniform on the day he was supposed to walk across a stage.
Timothy Harrison was 18 years old. It was graduation day at Woodlawn High School. And instead of getting ready with his classmates, he clocked into his shift at the Waffle House in Center Point, Alabama, because the cap and gown pickup had passed him by, and he had no ride to the ceremony, and at some point he had quietly decided that today just wasn't going to be his day.
His manager, Cedric Hampton, saw him walk in and stopped.
Timothy had the day off. Why was he here?
When Cedric heard the answer, he made a decision in about three seconds: not on my watch.
What happened next, in a Waffle House in Alabama, was something you don't forget.
Staff scrambled to track down a cap and gown. Coworkers passed around cash, for a dress shirt, a tie, pants, shoes. Customers sitting at the counter overheard what was happening and reached into their wallets without being asked. Within a few hours, Timothy Harrison was standing in that restaurant fully dressed for graduation, looking like someone who had planned this all along.
A coworker drove him across town. They arrived just in time. Timothy took his seat with his graduating class.
He walked.
After the story spread, Lawson State Community College offered him a full scholarship, a future that hadn't existed that morning when he'd quietly given up on his own day.
"I just came in to work. I wasn't expecting any of that."
— Timothy Harrison
Some people decide a moment is over. And then there are the people who refuse to let them.
Tag someone who would have been in that Waffle House passing the hat. 🎓
Talarico: Here's what real men don't do. They don't lie and cheat their way through life. They don't sell their soul to the highest bidder. Real men serve others, weak men serve themselves. So I welcome this debate. I don't think Paxton or Cruz are in a position to tell anyone what a real man is.
Over the last month I saw that human editors are now stripped of control. I could no longer stop the system from auto-inviting "reviewers" with zero relevant expertise. Even worse — the AI began actively revoking the invitations I manually sent out to actual, qualified experts.
I’ve officially resigned as Associate Editor for Frontiers in Systems Neuroscience (part of @FrontNeurosci). It used to be a reputable journal, but became a case study in how forced automation destroys academic integrity. 👇
We are ten years into allegations of widespread election fraud - only for elections Trump or republicans lose, mind you - for which Trump and allies have either not produced evidence, or claimed evidence which was subsequently debunked. And blatant contradictions - such as celebrating wins under the same laws and practices while confidently declaring theft for any losses - are now the norm.
Trump may as well have called the rest of us peasants.
According to him, it wasn’t workers who built America. It was rich guys like him and his cabinet:
“These people built the country, not the complainers. The complainers didn’t build the country…. Whether it’s fishermen or farmers or anything else. Me. Guys like me, they built the country. And you know, I watch all these ingrates, they’re always complaining, complaining. They didn’t build anything, they couldn’t build anything.”
Hi, Donald. Midcoast Mainer here.
You did not, in fact, “have to go to Japan” to get a Maine lobster before you. We sold millions. Our lobster fishery is one of the most valuable in the U.S.
It’s a big reason why people come here, in case you didn’t know!
If anything is hurting our lobstermen, it’s inflation (which you apparently “love”).
Also, exactly *zero* Maine fishermen run their boats at three knots. More like 30 knots—and some go even faster. You should check out a lobster boat race sometime!
I think it might be time for one of your famous Oval Office naps, because you have ZERO idea what you’re talking about.