(Published in Furman Magazine)
In 1994, the word “genocide” might have lured storytellers Laura Waters Hinson and Catherine Claire Larson to the small African country of Rwanda.
More than 10 years later, another word — “forgiveness” — sent them both there, and wound up leading Hinson to craft an award-winning film and Larson to write a book.
It all started on a church mission trip.
Courtesy of BPWV Mag
“Dentists tell you not to pick your teeth with any sharp metal object. Then you sit in their chair, and the first thing they grab is an iron hook.”
The crowd erupts, as a youthful Bill Cosby straddles a stage chair, writhing beneath a dentist’s invisible hand. “My bottom lip is on the floor,” he mumbles, mimicking the effects of novocain.
It’s the universality of such experiences that leaves us in stitches. Who can’t laugh about the trepidation that comes over everyone in the dentist’s chair … or the less-than-nostalgic recollection of family vacations filled with too many miles and not enough leg room? (Read full article at BreakPoint WorldView Magazine)
Grove City students Andrew Brinkerhoff, Will Ross, and Bryan Jarrell (Photo courtesy of Mark Sandvig)
Last semester, Will Ross, 21, did the unthinkable. He deactivated his Facebook account. His friends began asking what happened to him.
“It was as if I’d disappeared or something,” he said.
But Mr. Ross, a senior at Grove City College, in Grove City, Pa., would rather send hand-written letters or escape to a cabin in the woods than keep up with his friends’ profile pictures. He joins a growing fragment of college students and professors across the country who are challenging technology trends. (Continue story reading here at the Washington Times.)
Above my mantle hangs a replica of a South Australian pastoral scene. Like cows, kangaroos graze beneath arching white trees. Muted green, the land rests peacefully in its arid beauty, beckoning me home.
I am an Australian, though I don’t fully understand what that means. Born 26 years ago in a New South Wales hospital to two American parents, I have dual citizenship in a country I don’t really know, except for seven years of childish impressions. I know a bit of its temperate climate, its brogue-ish tongue, and its endearing people, but I have not lived with it through sorrow. (Continue reading here.)