"STL Trans & GNC Pride March 2019

My daughter's first rally was in support of our city last year and she protested for peace and against hatred for all. She had just found out about children and families being kept in Immigration Camps. She insisted on going to the rally at our City Hall. At first I was hesitant to take her because I worried that it would get too rowdy. Knowing that it was going to take part at City Hall and be attended by our mayor I felt that it would be a good first time experience for her. You see she's nine and she's very interested in the world and politics. She watches the news and loves history. She's reading children's books about children enduring difficult situations during Word War II and about Germany and Nazi's. Most of the stories talk about losing books or language and are age appropriate. Recently at school she wrote her own report about World War II while other kids in her class wrote about how to take care of your pets. Her curiosity keeps her busy writing stories. She's taken a bit after her dad who also loves history. It's very interesting to see.

Photo by Mick Reynolds

I remember back to elementary school like it was yesterday. I remember standing, with my hand over my heart, and saying the pledge of allegiance. I remember when that suddenly stopped and I never knew why, nor did I consider it a big deal as a child. In fact, looking back as an adult, having children swear oaths and make commitments of any sort, beyond a play date with a friend, is probably a waste of time.

We've all seen this iconic moment. The moment Jeremy Corbyn sparked a fire inside the crowds of Wirral Live. But why are the younger generations so passionate about politics anyway? The statistics on the effects of cuts over the past nine years have been shared, and shared and then shared again. But what was it really like growing up in a decade of austerity? With just a day to go until the next general election, I'd like to share my experience.

PC Culture — it’s one of the hottest new terms of the last decade. And depending on who you are, it likely evokes a very different reaction within you just hearing it said aloud. But what does it mean and how does it play a role in the way we organize our society?

The pace of change is going to be a political issue.

Tonight, I watched The War Game, the BBC’s eerily advanced take on nuclear war, a granddaddy of Threads, now almost 55 years old. Several years before even I was born, the filmmakers managed to pose what still remains the central, existential question of our age: What the hell do we do with ourselves, now that we are stone-age people, with space-age weapons?

Scroll through your Facebook feed right now and tell me one thing. How many times did you see a post with the words "offensive" or "offended" in it? I bet it was at least twice. And jump on Twitter and see who the latest celebrity having to beg forgiveness for a throwaway comment is. There's one at least every other day and they really have to grovel these days. There was more of an uproar about Paul Hollywood's diabetes comment than there was about the whole Bill Clinton thing! And I am not a fan of Paul Hollywood; in fact, I think he's awful, but I really don't think he meant anything by it! 

Home, a place that has never come easy for me, or has been easy to describe, even now. I never had a place that I felt was stable. When I was younger, I was more worried about what tomorrow would foresee than the worries that a normal kid would carry upon themselves. Money has always created stress in the family, and it was like we never had enough. When we were living in apartments, it was questionable some days if we would come home to an eviction note on the door, and a few times we did. I was one of the what you might say lucky ones in this case. We always had people to go to, relatives, and my mom's friends. Even when we weren’t considered homeless, the fear of becoming it was always there.

The first time I saw Ligaya (all names have been changed to protect individuals’ privacy) she had just come into the shelter’s common room and gave me a small smile. I remember thinking that she looked worn-out and weak. Another shelter guest told me she just arrived yesterday at midnight. I wondered if she had been fleeing and if so, from whom, at an hour so late.