Parents often think that they have to have an immediate answer or solution at their fingertips, but sometimes all a kid needs is to be heard. When we listen to young people without interrupting, it helps them feel understood and it validates their feelings by making them feel less alone in whatever they may be coping with.
In the world of environmental advocacy, hope can be a scarce commodity. The daily cascade of negative reports about our planet's health can challenge even the most optimistic personality. That's why 24 Hours of Reality, a global event happening today and tomorrow (September 16-17), promises to be so refreshing: it's all about solutions and hope.
The "Uh-oh! Moment" marks a realization, a grasp of a situation marked by despair and anguish. But it's within that grasp that most of the time, you start climbing out of the abyss. Once you're questioning what you have done, you start answering. And once you start answering, you start moving in a new, upward direction.
Over the course of a long baseball season, unforeseeable and unimaginable things happen on a regular basis and what purported experts deem to be inevitable isn't always inevitable. So-called 'sure things' stumble with surprising regularity and even those universally considered to be without hope can rightfully harbour hope.
Where were you on November 22, 1963? For some of you this may be before you time, but for me, I was a 12-year-old living in Edinburgh, Scotland and it is a day I will never forget. And for those of you who have no recall of what happened 50 years ago, it was the day that John F. Kennedy was shot and assassinated.
Public shaming has become a widespread disease across the web, infecting comment boxes, blog posts, Facebook statuses and
Barry and I were both 17 when we met. We had just finished high school. I was dealing with my tragedy -- the death of my mother and two younger sisters. Barry was an orphan, responsible for his older brother with special needs. And there we stood, in the "Land of Oz" at the start of the "Yellow Brick Road" -- the beginning of our journey together.
In my book Repairing Rainbows: A True Story of Family, Tragedy and Choices, I recount the terrible time when I was thrust
For almost four decades, I did not talk about the plane crash. Instead, I buried the tragedy and any associated feelings of grief as deep down as possible. That was the way tragedies and death were dealt with in the 70s. I was told, directly and indirectly, that the subject was closed, never to be discussed... the subject of death was unmentionable.
The summer is hot and it's not just the temperature. Each summer I dread the headline news of young black males heading to