by Sachi Feris Last Halloween, a friend posted this link on Facebook about child slave labor in the cocoa industry (in West Africa). As a chocolate-obsessed person, I was embarrassed that this injustice was not on my radar. Since then,…
by Sachi Feris A decade ago, I was in a car with my husband and two Argentine friends in downtown Manhattan. We slowed down to stop at a red light and saw two pedestrians waiting to cross the street, both…
by guest blogger Rhea St. Julien I’ve been with my husband, who is Black, for 15 years, but I have been White all my life. I still get things wrong, I still miss racist stuff, and I still don’t always…
by guest blogger Pedro A. Noguera, Ph. D When I moved back to NY in 2000, one of the first things I did with my children was to take them to visit the Museum of Natural History. I had always enjoyed…
by guest blogger Shannon Cofrin Gaggero My husband and I are striving to raise our children outside the confines of traditional gender norms. We are not raising our kids without gender influences altogether, but we are actively trying to create space…
by guest blogger Suzanne Feinspan I loved reading as a kid. Weekly trips to the library and monthly ones to the bookstore were some of the highlights of my childhood. I still have a strong sentimental attachment to many of…
by Sachi Feris As a long-time reader of Leo Lionni, it surprised me that Google searches of Lionni’s books did not yield lessons plans explicitly discussing race, since many of his books speak to themes of racial identity and the…
by guest blogger Clint Edwards I was sitting on the sofa next to my eight-year-old son, watching Pokémon, when he let out a long breath and said, “Dad, I like pink.” He wouldn’t look me in the eye, as though…
by guest blogger Janet Alperstein, Ph.D Regardless of your political affiliation, I hope you will take a moment to read about how a young Jewish American and Latino boy is experiencing the 2016 presidential, frequently as a result of what…
by Sachi Feris A couple of months ago, I was singing a bedtime song to my daughter and she interrupted with, “Mamma, sometimes in the morning when I wake up my pillow is wet.” It was a statement with the…
