A letter to a former teacher: Pulling me back from the ledge

When I was 11, my basketball coach, who wasn’t much older than my teammates and I, walked the sideline of the small town community hall where we played, yelling and throwing his hands up in the air when we made a mistake or he disagreed with the referee's call. A few years later when I …

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The sound of silence

I took the train home from work recently and I looked to be the lone person on the car without headphones. I noticed it first on the platform: everyone was head-down, headphones in place, looking at their phones. Later on the train, I sat up at one point to stretch my neck and looked in …

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