One of the porch light panes is broken--a house sparrow spends its winter evenings warming itself by the glow of the compact fluorescent light. Bird crap stains our front porch--I don't have the heart to kick the bird out mid-winter.
Few things lonelier than a summer moth fooled by a winter porch light.
A child lost her mother this weekend. I teach the child. I saw her mother tonight in a casket.
I teach for a lot of reasons, and I teach in my own town for a few reasons more.
My bird, my moth, my student are all real, and all matter.
Public education matters for reasons Arne will never get.