It was a beautiful Tuesday morning, sunny and warm, when I reached my faculty office at 7:45 to complete preparations for my first lecture of the new semester. As always, I was excited for a new year of teaching: who would my students be, how would they surprise and inform me, how would my teaching evolve as I learned their personalities and levels of engagement. Having introduced the course and myself to the class at our first meeting a few days earlier, I felt ready for my initial lecture at 9:30 that morning.
It was September 11, 2001, and I was in Boston. Less than five miles away,
planes were leaving Boston Logan International Airport on their routine schedules, many of them heading as usual to New York City. As they lifted off the runway, these planes would fly low over my son’s new school, where he was in his first week as a high school freshman.
Classical music played on the radio as I focused on reviewing and making small changes to my lecture notes. I became only vaguely aware at some point that the music had stopped, and that some news–of a crash or an explosion somewhere?–was being reported. I worked on. Continue reading ““Are we safe here?” Remembering 9/11 in a College Classroom”

especially evident in the 1970s hostilities around the effort to use busing to integrate students in the city’s public
occurred to me: Where did the first thought come from? To that point in my life, I had never, to my knowledge, met a Jew, having attended only Catholic schools and lived only among Christians before our family moved to the new state. Yet I clearly had imported into my subconscious some ugly stereotypes against which I had unwittingly measured the normalcy of my friend Alan.


the President’s constant barrage of self-serving, denigrating and false tweets–social media have made our national political dynamics more divisive, ill-informed and counterproductive. The premium these media place on bite-sized bursts of no-need-to-explain-or-defend assertions has only exacerbated this process.