I sing the praises of my small charcoal grill that defines homecoming for my godsons Nelson and Will (and me) on their cross-country visits. No longer young apprentices, these now early twenty-somethings commandeer the operation. Nothing intervenes—snow, sleet, rain, nor my occasional (faint) reluctance. Our love renews as the corn turns.
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We’re present—together now.
Post a sign. Ask a question. Run for office.
When Sarah Inama started teaching world civilization four years ago at an Idaho middle school, she hung a sign in her classroom featuring hands of different skin tones with hearts in their palms, highlighted by these words scripted in varying colors: “Everyone Is Welcome Here.”