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Sixty-eight percent of eighth graders are not proficient in math. Eighty-five million people in this country have no or inadequate health insurance. Thirty-two percent of black men spend time in prison. In Afghanistan and Iraq, 4,507 Americans have died.
Today, bells ring, students rumble into their rooms and classes begin. Chalkboards are covered with math problems, teachers' desks are strewn with finished essays. By the time the last bell rings, 6,000 students will drop out.
The light hadn't illuminated her bright blue eyes for weeks. The doctors had to induce a coma after she began to suffer from organ failure. But this wasn't your ordinary girl. She had survived her first bout with leukemia when she was 14. When the cancer came back three years later, a bone marrow transplant was initially successful.
For a brief moment, everything surrounding this poor woman disappeared, and nothing else mattered. Not the charges against the police officers, not the attorneys' vibrant openings, not the protestors picketing outside the courthouse. She took several seconds to compose herself. The question remained there, hanging-the attorney wanted to know where she had seen her fiance the morning of Nov. 25, 2006. Then the answer: "He was in the morgue."
Three thousand, nine hundred and sixty as of Wednesday.
Overheard at Duke this week:
