#Department of Pre University Education

[dontmean2bepoliticalbut]

[reasonsforhope]

"Research on a police diversion program implemented in 2014 shows a striking 91% reduction in in-school arrests over less than 10 years.

Across the United States, arrest rates for young people under age 18 have been declining for decades. However, the proportion of youth arrests associated with school incidents has increased.

According to the U.S. Department of Education, K–12 schools referred nearly 230,000 students to law enforcement during the school year that began in 2017. These referrals and the 54,321 reported school-based arrests that same year were mostly for minor misbehavior like marijuana possession, as opposed to more serious offenses like bringing a gun to school.

School-based arrests are one part of the school-to-prison pipeline, through which students—especially Black and Latine students and those with disabilities—are pushed out of their schools and into the legal system.

Getting caught up in the legal system has been linked to negative health, social, and academic outcomes, as well as increased risk for future arrest.

Given these negative consequences, public agencies in states like Connecticut, New York, and Pennsylvania have looked for ways to arrest fewer young people in schools. Philadelphia, in particular, has pioneered a successful effort to divert youth from the legal system.

Philadelphia Police School Diversion Program

In Philadelphia, police department leaders recognized that the city’s school district was its largest source of referrals for youth arrests. To address this issue, then–Deputy Police Commissioner Kevin Bethel developed and implemented a school-based, pre-arrest diversion initiative in partnership with the school district and the city’s department of human services. The program is called the Philadelphia Police School Diversion Program, and it officially launched in May 2014.

Mayor-elect Cherelle Parker named Bethel as her new police commissioner on Nov. 22, 2023.

Since the diversion program began, when police are called to schools in the city for offenses like marijuana possession or disorderly conduct, they cannot arrest the student involved if that student has no pending court case or history of adjudication. In juvenile court, an adjudication is similar to a conviction in criminal court.

Instead of being arrested, the diverted student remains in school, and school personnel decide how to respond to their behavior. For example, they might speak with the student, schedule a meeting with a parent, or suspend the student.

A social worker from the city also contacts the student’s family to arrange a home visit, where they assess youth and family needs. Then, the social worker makes referrals to no-cost community-based services. The student and their family choose whether to attend.

Our team—the Juvenile Justice Research and Reform Lab at Drexel University—evaluated the effectiveness of the diversion program as independent researchers not affiliated with the police department or school district. We published four research articles describing various ways the diversion program affected students, schools, and costs to the city.

Arrests Dropped

In our evaluation of the diversion program’s first five years, we reported that the annual number of school-based arrests in Philadelphia decreased by 84%: from nearly 1,600 in the school year beginning in 2013 to just 251 arrests in the school year beginning in 2018.

Since then, school district data indicates the annual number of school-based arrests in Philadelphia has continued to decline—dropping to just 147 arrests in the school year that began in 2022. That’s a 91% reduction from the year before the program started.

We also investigated the number of serious behavioral incidents recorded in the school district in the program’s first five years. Those fell as well, suggesting that the diversion program effectively reduced school-based arrests without compromising school safety.

Additionally, data showed that city social workers successfully contacted the families of 74% of students diverted through the program during its first five years. Nearly 90% of these families accepted at least one referral to community-based programming, which includes services like academic support, job skill development, and behavioral health counseling...

Long-Term Outcomes

To evaluate a longer follow-up period, we compared the 427 students diverted in the program’s first year to the group of 531 students arrested before the program began. Results showed arrested students were significantly more likely to be arrested again in the following five years...

Finally, a cost-benefit analysis revealed that the program saves taxpayers millions of dollars.

Based on its success in Philadelphia, several other cities and counties across Pennsylvania have begun replicating the Police School Diversion Program. These efforts could further contribute to a nationwide movement to safely keep kids in their communities and out of the legal system."

-via Yes! Magazine, December 5, 2023

[transmutationisms]

genq what are the actual reasons that plagiarism is bad apart from profit and prestige?

so there are two main angles i usually think of here, which ultimately converge into some related issues in public discourse and knowledge production.

firstly, plagiarism should not just be understood as a violation one individual perpetuates against another; it has a larger role in processes of epistemological violence and suppression of certain people's arguments, ideas, and labour. consider the following three examples of plagiarism that is not at all counter to current structures of knowledge production, but rather undergirds them:

in colonial expeditions and encounters from roughly the 14th century onward, a repeated and common practice among european explorer-naturalists was to rely on indigenous people's knowledge of botany, geography, natural history, and so forth, but to then go on to publish this knowledge in their own native tongues (meaning most of the indigenous people they had learned from could not access, read, or respond to such publications), with little, vague, or no attribution to their correspondents, guides, hosts, &c. (many many examples; allison bigelow's 'mining language' discusses this in 16th and 17th century american mining, with a linguistic analysis foregrounded)

throughout the renaissance and early modern period, in contexts where european women were generally not welcome to seek university education, it was nonetheless common practice for men of science to rely on their wives, sisters, and other family members not just to keep house, but also to contribute to their scientific work as research assistants, translators, fund-raisers, &c. attribution practices varied but it is very commonly the case that when (if ever) historians revisit the biographies of famous men of science, they discover women around these men who were actively contributing to their intellectual work, to an extent previously unknown or downplayed (off the top of my head, marie-anne lavoisier; emma darwin; caroline herschel; rosalie lamarck; mileva marić-einstein...)

it is standard practice today for university professors to run labs where their research assistants are grad students and postdocs; to rely on grad students, undergrads, and postdocs to contribute to book projects and papers; and so forth. again, attribution varies, but generally speaking the credit for academic work goes to the faculty member at the head of the project, maybe with a few research assistants credited secondarily, and the rest of the lab / department / project uncredited or vaguely thanked in the acknowledgments.

in all of these cases, you can see how plagiarism is perpetuated by pre-existing inequities and structures of exploitation, and in turn helps perpetuate those structures by continuing to discursively erase the existence of people made socially marginal in the process of knowledge production. so, what's at stake here is more than just the specific individuals whose work has been presented as someone else's discovery (though of course this is unjust already!); it's also the structural factors that make academic and intellectual discourse an élite, exclusive activity that most people are barred from participating in. a critique of plagiarism therefore needs to move beyond the idea that a number of wronged individuals ought to be credited for their ideas (though again, they should be) and instead turn to the structures that create positions of epistemological authority under the aegis of capitalist entities: universities, legacy as well as new media outlets, and so forth. the issue here is the positions of prestige themselves, regardless of who holds them; they are, definitionally, not instruments of justice or open discourse.

secondly, there's the effect plagiarism has on public discourse and the dissemination of knowledge. this is an issue because plagiarism by definition obscures the circulation and origin of ideas, as well as a full understanding of the labour process that produces knowledge. you can see in the above examples how the attribution of other people's ideas as your own works to turn you into a mythologised sort of lone genius figure, whose role is now to spread your brilliance unidirectionally to the masses. as a result, the vast majority of people are now doubly shut out of any public discourse or debate, except as passive recipients of articles, posts, &c. you can't trace claims easily, you don't see the vast number of people who actually contribute to any given idea, and this all works to protect the class and professional interests of the select few who do manage to attain élite intellectual status, by reinforcing and widening the created gap between expert and layperson (a distinction that, again, tracks heavily along lines of race, gender, and so forth).

so you can see how these two issues really are part of one and the same structural problem, which is knowledge production as a tool of power, and one that both follows from and reinforces existing class hierarchies. in truth, knowledge is usually a collaborative affair (who among us has ever had a truly original idea...) and attributions should be a way of both acknowledging our debts to other people, and creating transparency in our efforts to stake claims and develop ideas. but, as long as there are benefits, both economic and social, to be gained from presenting yourself as an originator of knowledge, people will continue to be incentivised to do this. plagiarism is not an exception or an aberration; it's at best a very predictable outcome of the operating logics of this 'knowledge economy', and at worst—as in the examples above—a normal part of how expert knowledge is produced, and its value protected, in a system that is by design inequitable and exclusive.

[afeelgoodblog]

Best News of Last Week - December 11

1. Biden administration to forgive $4.8 billion in student loan debt for 80,300 borrowers

The Biden administration announced on Wednesday that it would forgive an additional $4.8 billion in student loan debt, for 80,300 borrowers.

The relief is a result of the U.S. Department of Education’s fixes to its income-driven repayment plans and Public Service Loan Forgiveness program.

2. Detroit on pace to have lowest homicide rate in 60 years this year

A partnership to reduce Detroit crime is being praised with the City on pace for the fewest homicides in 60 years.

"This is the day we’ve been waiting for, for a long time," said Mayor Mike Duggan. The coalition which includes city and county leaders that Detroit Police Chief James White formed in late 2021 to return the criminal justice system in Detroit and Wayne County to pre-Covid operations.

3. Dog that killed 8 coyotes to protect sheep running for Farm Dog of the Year

Over a year ago, Casper was stacked up against a pack of 11 coyotes, and he overcame them all to protect the livestock at his Decatur home. Now he needs your help.

Casper, the Great Pyrenees livestock guardian dog, needs the public to vote for him to become the American Farm Bureau's "Farm Dog of the Year: People's Choice Pup" contest.

4. Shimmering golden mole thought extinct photographed and filmed over 80 years after last sighting

De Winton's golden mole, last sighted in 1937, has been found alive swimming through sand dunes in South Africa after an extensive search for the elusive species.

5. About 40% of the world's power generation is now renewable

The International Renewable Energy Agency (IRENA) and World Meteorological Organization (WMO) have released their first joint report to strengthen understanding of renewable energy resources and their intricate relationship with climate variability and change.

In 2022 alone, 83% of new capacity was renewable, with solar and wind accounting for most additions. Today, some 40% of power generation globally is renewable, due to rapid deployment in the past decade, according to the report.

6. Jonathan the Tortoise: World’s oldest living land animal celebrates 191st birthday

The world’s oldest living land animal - a Seychelles giant tortoise named Jonathan - has just celebrated his 191st birthday. Jonathan’s estimated 1832 birth year predates the invention of the postal stamp, the telephone, and the photograph.

The iconic creature lived through the US civil war, most of the reign of Queen Victoria, the rise and fall of the Soviet Union, and two world wars.

7. New enzyme allows CRISPR technologies to accurately target almost all human genes

A team of engineers at Duke University have developed a method to broaden the reach of CRISPR technologies. While the original CRISPR system could only target 12.5% of the human genome, the new method expands access to nearly every gene to potentially target and treat a broader range of diseases through genome engineering.

---

That's it for this week :)

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[hitomisuzuya]

HIII YOUR REQS ARE OPEN AGAINNN HERE'S FLOWERS FOR U AGAIN🌼🌹🌹🌸🏵💐🌸

CAN I REQ FOR STRICT DOM SCARA AND USER SENDING TEASING MESSAGES TO SCARA WHILE HE'S AT WORKK SO HE GOES HOME EARLYYY JUST TO PUNISH USER👹👹 (IT DOESN'T STOP BC OF SCARA'S STAMINA) if that's totally okay with u💐

GOODNESS I RLLY HAD TO SIT AND TYPE B4 GOING TO SCHOOL😭😭 (IM RUNNING LATE)

Dom! Scaramouche x fem reader. Smut. Spanking. Degradation. Fingersucking. Dom/sub dynamics. Dirty texts. Isn't the real name of the game to bask in his comforting dominance?❤️

Thank you for the flowers🥺 Always be on time for school. Education is important😌 and pre period horny is seriously real right now.

Scaramouche is beyond frustrated with you. He already knew you were in a clingy, needy mood, which sent him to work with a hint of pride. You'd even pouted your lower lip out so cutely, asking if he could stay home today because all you wanted was him.

He'd departed with a pat on your head, telling you to be a good girl, and wait for him to get home. Leaving you wet, aching and needy for him only fueled his ego.

Your first text came in just before lunch. "I'm so wet, I can feel it on my fingers as I stroke myself."

Scaramouche's hand tightened on his pen, his fingers hastily flicking on his keyboard as he typed. He grit his teeth, attempting to ignore the way his cock pulsed. "Don't you dare touch what's mine until I get home, slut. Do you understand me?"

"It feels so good to rub my clit, I don't think I can stop. I want my Master's cock."

"I thought I told you to be a good girl, and fucking wait for me. You are testing my patience."

Scaramouche thought that was that because you were quiet for awhile. Would you really disobey him any further.

....

...

..

.

Yes.

Your next message shattered what was left of his concentration entirely. It was a video of you, legs spread and fucking your fingers into your pussy. "I'm weak."

Scaramouche sent his staff home, with pay for the day and went home. He promptly commanded you to strip, and put you over his knee. "What did you think you were trying to pull, slut?" He hissed, smacking his hand across your ass.

Your toes curled feeling the sting of his hand, biting your lower lip as your pussy clenched around nothing. "What do you mean, Master?" You asked casually, squirming in anticipation in his lap.

"You brat," Scaramouche scoffed, roughly groping your ass before smacking it again. "What gives you the right to touch what's mine," He delivered a firm strike, keening a moan from you, "Without my permission, no less. Your pussy belongs to me."

Another firm strike to your inflamed ass sent your clit throbbing, a new coat of wet coating your clenching pussy. You yelped in bliss, squirming in his lap again.

Scaramouche proceeded to make you count, one plus two extra for every teasing message you'd sent him. His cock pulsed harder seeing your body start to shake from the sensation of your pussy clenching around nothing, soaking in every moan and pleased whine.

Parting your messy folds, he scooped your juices onto two fingers before pushing you somewhat unceremoniously off his lap. Grabbing a handful of your hair, he pulled you to your knees, forcing you to look up at him. "Say it, whore. Tell your Master how much of a weak slut you are," He poked his fingers against your lips, "Suck if you understand."

Your cheeks flushed, his dominance blanketing you in a comforting weight. You nodded, opening your mouth. Your tongue curled around his beautiful fingers, muffling a moan on them as you sucked. He pushed them into your throat before taking them out of your mouth. His hand tightened on your hair, glaring in command down at you.

"I am a weak slut needy for your cock," You repeated verbatim, an adoring look in your eyes as you submissively licked his fingers. You were more than happy to repeat those words to the very center of your universe.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, his hand going for your throat. His cock have throbbed harder seeing your body tense in anticipation of his fingers wrapping around your pretty throat. He hovered his fingers over your throat teasingly before he cupped your cheek instead.

You always sent him reeling.

Your loving subservience ultimately made him weak. It was just so fucking intoxicating. Laughing shakily, he pushed you back onto his bed, promptly putting his weight on you while he pinned your wrists above your head.

"Only I can stuff this slutty pussy full," He moaned, pushing his cock inside of you all at once. You cried out, your hips jerking to buck into his. The head of his cock abruptly hitting your sweet spot made your head spin in pleasure. "I thought my pet whore understood this," He emphasized his words with harsh snaps of his hips.

You were falling apart under the dizzy bliss of his punishment. Your walls clenched tight around his cock, your back arching off the bed as harsh thrusts stole your breath away. When you thought you couldn't moan any louder, his cock kissing into your sweet spot proved you so wrong.

"Scream for me. Scream for your Master," Scaramouche groaned, his cock pulsing hard as he stretched your tight walls apart. He sank his teeth dominantly into your shoulder, sucking and grinding his teeth to swallow back his own whimpers of pleasure.

"Master! Master Scaramouche!" You cried out in a way that only brought him closer to cumming. Drunk on the power he has over you, his pace never once faltered.

He already knew that once he fucked you full of cum that you would sink to your knees and lick his cock clean when he commanded you to. Just once wasn't going to be enough to fuck this lesson into you.

[komsomolka]

The unification process, which in practice amounted to an annexation of the GDR, had all the hallmarks of a colonisation. The intellectual elite was stigmatised, marginalised and dismissed, so that it could be replaced by personnel from Western Germany.

Among the institutions that were to be closed were prestigious intellectual centres like the GDR’s Academy of Sciences and the Academy of Arts. [...] The result of which was that thousands of lecturers and researchers were purged. They not only lost their tenured jobs but were also stripped of their legal contracts and seniority protections.

Those who did manage to hold on to their jobs were subjected to a vetting process in which so-called evaluating commissions (staffed only by West German academics) assessed the professional competence and personal integrity of all academics. The reason given for the necessity of this vetting was the alleged low academic standard of research in the GDR, i.e. the assumption that it was all manipulated to serve the ideological demands of the regime. The assessments were, it seemed, an attempt to denigrate East German intellectual achievement and to break up key centres of research. The process was demeaning and humiliating, and a number of internationally renowned academics refused to undergo it and so were dismissed on the spot. During this process those academics and researchers not immediately sacked were placed ‘on hold’ (Warteschleife). This also meant that they lost their employment rights and could easily be dismissed once the ‘holding period’ came to an end. The actual result of the evaluation surprised the assessors themselves since they had to admit that the standards were, despite often inferior material conditions, comparable to those in the West. Yet it was too late, the assumption of an ‘academic desert’ or, more to the point, the imposition of an ideologically-determined plan to oust the GDR intellectual elite, had led to the decision to close down these centres of research. [...]

The third method of cleansing the intellectual elite was the political vetting of every employee in education (schools, colleges and universities). All staff had to complete questionnaires that, in addition to professional qualifications, asked for detailed information on their present and former party affiliations, political opinions and activities. Although such questions are illegal under the German constitution, people from the GDR were told that the completion of the questionnaires was a pre-condition of further employment. [...] Teachers were found politically unacceptable on the basis of trivial activities, such as being a choir leader, because this was considered to be an activity supportive of the system. [...]

The closing down of academic institutions and university departments as well as political vetting resulted in more than one million people with a university degree or its equivalent losing their jobs. This constituted 50 per cent of that group and it meant that, percentage-wise, the Eastern part of Germany, following unification, had the highest unemployment rate for university graduates in the world. [...]

In this context, it is perhaps of interest to note the comments made by Dr. Ingeborg Syllm-Rapoport when she was granted her doctorate in Hamburg over seventy years later, at the age of 102! Her case made headlines in Germany.

She had completed her medical studies in Germany during the 1930s, but was denied her doctorate when the Nazis came to power. Being an active communist and Jewish, she was forced to flee the country and found exile in the USA. But with the rise of McCarthyism in the post-war period she and her husband, also a doctor, were summoned to appear before the House Committee on Un-American Activities. Persecution once again forced them to leave the country and they eventually settled in the GDR.

Happy as she was to receive her degree belatedly in 2015, she said that the preparations recalled enough bad memories to rob her of sleep - of brown-shirted Nazis shouting and trampling at lectures by partly Jewish professors, but also of the years after the end of the GDR in 1989. She learned of its demise during a scientific congress in the USA, but when Americans congratulated her on ‘German unification’ she felt no joy. Of the years that followed she wrote: ‘I would never have believed, more than 45 years after the victory over Hitler fascism and 40 years after the McCarthy era, that I would again experience such a flood of sackings, such mass destruction of livelihoods and contempt for talents.’

Stasi State or Socialist Paradise? The German Democratic Republic and What Became of It by Bruni de la Motte & John Green with Seumas Milne (Contributor), 2015.

[blueiscoool]

Ancient Celtic Helmet Is the Oldest Ever Found in Poland

Unearthed at the Łysa Góra archaeological site, the artifact, some 2,300 years old, is a prime example of Celtic metalworking

Archaeologists in Poland have unearthed a horde of 300 artifacts dating back to the fourth century B.C.E. Found at the Łysa Góra site in the region of Mazovia, near Warsaw, the trove includes iron axes, scissors and, most notably, a rare Celtic helmet.

A team from Warsaw’s State Archaeological Museum and University of Warsaw’s Department of Archaeology has been excavating in Łysa Góra since the spring. According to a statement by the team, the helmet was buried in a charcoal pit, along with four iron axes.

Though it was damaged by age, researchers determined the “spectacular” helmet was originally shaped like a cone, possessing a separate curved neck piece and decorated with etched lines. Its discovery has changed the team’s perceptions of the Celts—a group of Central European tribes who thrived during the Iron Age, from 1200 B.C.E. until 50 C.E.

The helmet is the first artifact of its kind to be found in Poland, as excavation leader Bartłomiej Kaczyński, of the archaeological museum, tells Science in Poland’s Ewelina Krajczyńska-Wujec. Before, only one other, much newer Celtic helmet had been discovered: a first-century piece found in the southern village of Siemiechów. The Łysa Góra helmet is at least 2,300 years old.

“At first we thought it might be some kind of ancient vessel, because bronze vessels are much more common on Polish soil than helmets,” Kaczyński tells Science in Poland, per Newsweek’s Aristos Georgiou. Then, the artifact’s neck piece—an arched plate near its edge—prompted archaeologist Andrzej Maciałowicz to suggest it could be a helmet.

Based on the artifact’s shape, and the fact that its tip was held together by a double knob, researchers concluded the piece is an early La Tène helmet. The Celtic culture of La Tène—French for “the shallows”—is named for Lake Neuchâtel in Switzerland, where researchers first found La Tène objects in the late-1800s, per ARTnews’ George Nelson. The culture formed around the fifth century B.C.E., about when Celts came into contact with Etruscan and Greek people from south of the Swiss Alps.

The La Tène style of metalworking developed between the fourth and third centuries B.C.E., and examples of it are “very rare,” per Science in Poland. While 1970s and ‘80s excavations at Łysa Góra revealed some small La Tène artifacts, researchers assumed they ended up in Poland via trading.

The recently discovered helmet, on the other hand, is an example of “the most advanced Celtic metallurgy,” Kaczyński says, and the piece was seemingly owned by a Celt, per Newsweek. The La Tène helmet’s presence in northern Poland changes researchers’ perceptions of the reach of the Celtic world in the pre-Roman period.

The other artifacts the research team found illustrate the ancient Celts’ proclivity for animal husbandry and farming: Blades from shears might have been used to cut sheeps’ wool, and scythes might have cut grain or grass. According to a statement by the archaeological museum, the researchers also found a collection of glass, amber and stone artifacts, including jewelry—bracelets, ornate necklaces and rings.

The helmet was taken to the State Archaeological Museum’s conservation department, where an expert in iron and bronze artifacts will spend several months conserving its pieces. As Kaczyński tells Science in Poland, the research team began excavating Łysa Góra to help construct an educational trail through the site. But the team’s “multitude of discoveries” indicates they may have more archaeological work to do than they thought.

By Sonja Anderson.

[eretzyisrael]

by Francesca Block

A New York City public school is being accused of “Jewish erasure” after a map from one of its classrooms surfaced showing all the countries of the Middle East except Israel, which is labeled “Palestine.”

The Free Press was shown a photo of the map of the “Arab world,” hanging in the art classroom at PS 261, a public elementary school in Brooklyn. Rita Lahoud uses the classroom to give lessons to pre-K and elementary students in the “Arab Culture Arts” program, which is funded by Qatar Foundation International (QFI). QFI is the American wing of the Qatar Foundation, a nonprofit owned by the ruling family of the wealthy Arab state, which harbors leaders of the terrorist group Hamas. 

Tova Plaut, a New York City public school instructional coordinator for pre-K through fifth grade classrooms, said she found the map “concerning.”

“It’s not just that we’re experiencing Jewish hate in NYC public schools, we’re actually experiencing Jewish erasure,” Plaut said. “And here is proof of that.” 

Rita Lahoud did not respond to an email seeking comment. The principal of PS 261 deferred comment to the Department of Education.

A close-up of the “Arab World” map at PS 261. (via X)

After The Free Press emailed the Department of Education to ask if the map remains in the classroom after Hamas’s October 7 attack on Israel, a spokesperson wrote back: “Why would it not be?” 

Nathaniel Styer, the DOE spokesperson, added in his reply that “this is a map of countries that speak Arabic.”

Around two million people living in Israel are Arab, which is just over 20 percent of the country’s population. Many of them speak Arabic.

The emergence of the map comes after a Free Press investigation showed how educators in American public schools are increasingly teaching students to hate Jews. One curriculum—the Brown University Choices Program—which presents ideas of Israel being an “apartheid state” and “a military occupier” taught to one million public school students nationwide, has been distributed by QFI.

[budo-bujo]

Intro to Literary Studies

This is my intro post for cyberstudious's masterpost jam challenge! I wanted to participate because 1) there doesn't seem to be a lot of representation for humanities in studyblr spaces and 2) there are a lot of misconceptions about literary studies as a field (what do you mean it's not just reading books all day?)(Well, it kind of is but not like you think!)

Disclaimer: I study contemporary "American"* literature and while I have very close contact with people in other fields in my program, I will inevitably be biased.

What is literary studies?

Literary studies is a general term that describes the study of literature very broadly. In the US, this is mostly housed in English departments**, but there are a lot of overlaps with fields like comparative literature, film studies, visual studies, etc.

Generally, I think people's views of what literary studies is is incredibly skewed by high school English classes or maybe some general education courses in college, but those classes do not paint an accurate picture of the field at an advanced level. Literary scholars are performing intensive research, not just teaching or reading books all day! I will say that I didn't even completely understand what an "English major" does academically until graduate school because the work is just on a completely different level.

What are notable career paths/organizations?

Most people who do literary studies are interested in traditional academic careers as professors. However, with the state of higher education in the US, those jobs are insanely competitive and very rare. Other "alt-ac" careers include publishing, academic administration, or other public humanities work. Many people also get concurrent or extra degrees in library and information science, book arts, digital humanities, education, or other fields which can additionally open up your career options.

From an academic standpoint, it's difficult to list specific journals/organizations since the field is so broad. One kind of universal organization in the United States is the Modern Language Association (MLA) (yes that MLA) which has several regional and one large conference every year along with a journal that is pretty much the pinnacle of the field. However, there are countless smaller journals, conferences, and organizations for every specialization that are way more accessible.

What are different fields/specializations?

There are generally two ways to describe what you study: Time period and special area. People often dabble in other things, especially post-PhD, and some people end up switching fields entirely. However, PhD's are about specializing and going deep, unlike a Bachelor's English degree which usually has students completing survey courses and going broadly through a lot of different areas. Here is some more detail about time periods and special areas.

Time period is pretty self explanatory. This is just the time period of literature that you study. Again most people read more widely than this, and we do have to have general knowledge of all of them, but picking one to specialize in is pretty much required. Here are common, incredibly general, ways of categorizing time periods with some example texts/authors***:

Medieval (pre-1400): This is things like Beowulf that require learning Old English and also Chaucer which is Middle English.

Early Modern (1500-1800): Also sometimes called the Renaissance especially for the early texts. This is your Shakespeare and Marlowe etc.

Early American/Victorian (1800-1900): This is where American literature starts to show up with your Hawthorne and Melville. This is also British literature like Dickens, Austen, Bronte, Shelly, etc. Romanticism is huge here.

Modernism (1900-1945): Modernism is more of a style than a time period that includes many non-literary works, but because it was so dominating during the interwar years it's shorthand for the time period. This includes Eliot, Hemmingway, Fitzgerald, Joyce, Woolf, etc.

Post-Modernism/Contemporary (1945-present): This is where things get silly in my opinion, because quite literally everything post WWII is generally referred to as contemporary literature. This is my area of specialty so I could go off on it forever, but just know it's a very, very broad time period (arguably the most broad because it's so undefined).

While again these time periods are very broad, the distinctions are pretty significant. It drives me nuts when I tell people I study literature and they ask me questions about Shakespeare! It's also why most people's understanding of "Classic Literature" is very silly. Putting Dickens, Chaucer, and Toni Morrison on the same list makes very little sense!

Special Areas are kind of the core of the field regardless of your time period. This is also where I think the misconceptions around what we do comes from. Special areas can pull from literally any other field alongside literature/literary studies itself, and many literature scholars these days end up becoming very skilled in history, political science, psychology, sociology, art history, film studies, religious studies, or really any other field as a method of complementing their analytical skills. We read A Lot, but so much of it is actually theory!

Some common areas of expertise you will encounter include: Race/ethnicity, ecocriticism, postsecular studies, regionalism, postcolonial/decolonial, book history, performance, sexuality/gender, Marxism, Deconstruction, psychoanalysis, and so many more. Literature provides an avenue to study pretty much anything else you want!

What are the biggest goals/questions?

As I've already described, literature can be used to answer pretty much any question you want. If I were to describe a single question, it would probably be something like "What do literary texts show us about social and cultural issues and vice versa?" This question is very broad, but so is the field! And it allows you almost infinite possibility on how you want to approach the literature.

The central skill to all of this is close reading. Close reading describes the ability to understand a text down to the level of the word and pull out meaning much deeper than a general surface-level reading. This is a skill that takes tons of practice and years of reading to be good at, but is something that anyone can learn how to do! If literature is something that interests you, this is the skill you need to learn to build. If you care about "critical thinking" or "media literacy," it's the same skills!

Conclusion:

That's all I have for now! I may or may not post more of these this week for the challenge, but I am always available to answer questions about literature! I love talking about this stuff!

*I put "American" in quotes because I mostly mean texts written/published within the United States, but that's a bit of a nebulous category. **To add on to my note about bias, this is coming from the perspective of a scholar in the US who mostly works in English. I'm sure the field has some nuances and differences in other languages/countries, but this is not meant to be exhaustive. ***Note that these time periods are very vague and also incredibly Anglocentric so please take them with a grain of salt.

[mallgothyamaguchi]

what haikyuu characters would major in at My College™ -karasuno edition!-

it is summer i am not at my institution of learning but i thought this would be fun ! we have some quirky majors and everyone is a double major or has a major and a minor… very rare for someone to just major in one thing lol

daichi - oh he’s definitely political science and political economy and public policy, perhaps on the pre-law track. also would consider public health (haha that’s my major!) major or minor with a focus in public safety or workplace health

sugawara - suga is so psychology major on the education track (we don’t have an education major, but we do have the track and a graduate program)

asahi - unfortunately my school doesn’t have fashion design, however, we do have a large theatre program with a subcategory in stage management, design & technical theatre and i think he’d like the costume design aspect. another area i could see him in is studio art or art history. definitely intertwined with the art department :)

nishinoya - hot take maybe but anthropology and definitely international studies! i think he’d also fight the school to go abroad multiple times

tanaka - might be a different take but i think he’d start out as business administration or finance because he didn’t really know what he wanted to do, but then he took a random sociology course for a credit and fell in love with it, leading to a double major

ennoshita - this man is so obviously biology on the pre-med track, mr. physical therapist

kinoshita - business administration i can feel it in my bones,,, with a sustainability studies minor

narita - another business administration guy, but i would consider adding in finance major or the innovation and entrepreneurship minor

kageyama - ooo i get to have fun with this one! i could totally see him as a media & communications major or a sociology major for the analysis purposes (i think after his volleyball career he’d become a sports journalist or analyst) and for where he ends up in present day, i grant him an italian studies minor

hinata - i get to have fun with hinata too! he’s sooo definitely on the education track (he’s a great teacher), but with particular majors i can see him in international studies or media & communication (more the latter, kind of for the same reasons as kageyama) and a minor in latin american and caribbean studies!

tsukishima - oh this is so easy. double history and accounting major (he wanted something practical mixed in with his passion), and an analytics minor

yamaguchi - my boy! i think he’d take an interdisciplinary approach to mathematics with a focus in business and technology (perhaps a computer science minor?), but there’s also sustainability studies and information systems management incorporated in his degree somehow :)

kiyoko - i’m heading way off from canon, but i totally think she’s on the pre-med track with a biochemistry major looking to pursue a medical leadership certificate or graduate degree. it just feels right to me.

yachi - babygirl is so vibing in the studio arts major, but for practical application she’s also majoring/minoring in media & communications. can’t convince me otherwise that she’s a women and gender studies minor.

this was so much fun!!! i’m definitely going to be expanding upon this universe, since i already have a bunch of ideas lingering in my head. next, i’ll be doing other secondary characters’ majors and minors !

[koffeesfancy]

Rapture Ch. 1 | Koffee x Reader

Summary: After relocating to Spanish Town, you find yourself being ostracized in university as the frog-obsessed weird girl with no friends. Your educational experience is less than rewarding until you become entangled in the beguiling world of a girl from the basketball team, whose cruel and teasing nature captivates and confounds you. This unexpected connection draws you into a whirlwind of emotions and self-discovery, transforming your path in ways you never imagined.

Genre: Dark-ish romance, fluff, angst, college!au

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2907

A/N: Ah yes, another chapter fic. I worked very hard on this one, dedicating a lot of focus and skill into it. I plan on this story having more conflict, general moodiness, and sexual tension even so it has a different rating from my other stories which are intended to be more humorous and light reads. Also, this time I experimented with all dialogue (minus the reader's) being in Jamaican patois with some American spellings and vocab. Although my family and community are Caribbean, I am not, so what I've written may be rusty. Feel free to correct me. I tried to find a balance between authentic conversation and accessibility. I may come back and make changes as the story progresses. Feedback is appreciated always. Enjoy <3

Taglist: @lyfeofbilly @prettymrswright

The science department at the University of Spanish Town was where the word “academia” went to die a slow, painful death. It was lovingly referred to as a social club among the other offices and anyone who knew it would laugh at its facade of molding young minds or pioneering research. The course load was light, deadlines were suggestions at best, and professors often skipped lectures altogether. Most students were either pre-med kids with rich parents or athletes looking for easy grades.

And then there was you, the starry-eyed idealist who thought the university’s environmental science degree would be your ticket to saving the rainforests. At seventeen, you had to move to your grandparents' house in a new city and chose the nearest, cheapest college with an e-sci program. If you’d had friends in your last year of school, they might have warned you about the university’s laid-back reputation. But your social awkwardness kept you in the dark, so here you were, blissfully ignorant and full of naivety.

Orientation felt like a bad sequel to secondary school. You hoped it would be your chance to finally break out of your shell, but nope. Everyone already had their cliques, and no one was interested in befriending the weird girl obsessed with frogs and trees. Professors (though friendly) lacked enthusiasm, lectures turned into casual chats, and your burning questions about conservation were met with bored shrugs. The syllabus promised exciting research and fieldwork, but instead, you were met with worksheets and outdated textbooks. Disillusionment set in fast as you realized you were being robbed of your dream.

“W-what’s the point of all this?” you once blurted out during another wasted lecture. Your voice was louder than you intended, cutting through the quiet chatter of the room. All eyes turned towards you, and you immediately felt the heat of a few dozen stares. Your cheeks burned as you realized what you had done. Professor Thomas looked up from his game of Candy Crush, raising an eyebrow with a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Di point?” he echoed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Mi nuh know- fi mek sure yuh stay outta trouble fi three years?"

The class snickered in unison, the professor’s nonchalant tone adding to your discomfort. You fidgeted in your seat, wishing you could sink into the floor and disappear. The feeling of being exposed and out of place washed over you in waves.

"Trouble? I just want to save the planet," you said, your voice coming out more defensive than you had intended. You could feel the tension in the room change as your classmates looked on with curious amusement.

"Save di planet?" Professor Thomas chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Yuh fi start wid di school first. Yuh ever see di state a di atrium?"

The class erupted in laughter, and your heart sank. You couldn’t help but feel immense regret for your outburst. The momentary courage you had felt evaporated, leaving behind a deep sense of embarrassment. You stared down at your notebook, the lines blurring as tears of frustration welled up in your eyes.

Why did you have to say anything? You berated yourself silently. The professor’s mocking tone and your classmates' laughter played on repeat in your mind. You felt small, insignificant, and utterly alone in a room full of people. The dream of making a difference seemed so far away now, buried under the weight of ridicule and self-doubt.

As the laughter died down, the professor returned to his game, and the class resumed its usual dull rhythm. But for you, the sting of embarrassment lingered. You scribbled aimlessly in your notebook, trying to distract yourself from the gnawing feeling of failure. At that moment, the idea of saving the planet seemed not only daunting but almost impossible. How could you make a difference in the world when you couldn’t even stand up for yourself in a classroom?

From then on, you spent your breaks, like today, alone in the atrium while other students hung out in the canteen or on the lawn. The atrium was a small, gloomy courtyard with a wild assortment of shrubs, flowers, and a few young trees. No one had thought to maintain it in years, so vines covered virtually every surface and few of the light fixtures worked. The little jungle had become a place of solace for you amidst the alienating environment of the rest of the school. 

You sat on one of the vine-covered stone benches, knees drawn to your chest as you concentrated on sketching a scientific illustration of a Panamanian golden frog. The little frog waved her four toes, a common strategy to distract predators. You admired her bravery, wishing you had the same confidence to scare off your own bullies. 

Even in college, you were still the target of ridicule. Classmates snickered at your cozy fashion choices, making snide comments about their grandmas owning similar shoes or skirts. Your books had been hidden more than once, and your ideas were almost always shot down as doing too much during group projects.

You became utterly lost in illustrating the world of the little frog, your pencil dancing across the page as you brought her delicate form to life. Each stroke was a whisper of your own soul, etched in graphite and paper. Maybe in some ways, she was like you- a tiny creature fighting against a world that didn't understand her. She and her family were critically endangered, their vibrant green world shrinking day by day due to loss of habitat. You, too, had lost your home, forced to move in with your grandparents in Spanish Town for your final year of secondary school. 

By now, you had named the frog Bertha. The name felt right, a sturdy, old-fashioned one for such a resilient little being. Bertha had been uprooted from her home, just like you, and moved to a foreign terrarium in a desperate bid for preservation. You imagined she felt as lost and alone as you did, staring out at a world that seemed strange and unwelcoming. 

As you added the final touches to the picture, the jarring creak of the heavy iron door and voices shattered the tranquility of your sanctuary. Your head jerked up, heart pounding painfully in your chest. Your eyes darted to the entrance, partially obscured by the overgrown foliage that draped like a tattered curtain. Two figures stumbled into view, their shadows stretching long and distorted across the stone path as the bright light from the hall spilled into the atrium, casting an eerie glow.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the shifting light, but soon you recognized the intruders. Mikayla, a sophomore on the basketball team, and Gabriella, a senior biology major, were locked in a heated argument. Their voices were low, yet their words carried a weight that hung heavy in the air, each one dripping with frustration and tension. Mikayla's lean, athletic frame was rigid with barely contained anger, while Gabriella's hands gestured wildly, her usually composed demeanor fraying at the edges.

"Wah deh wrong wid you?" Gabriella demanded, her voice a mix of anger and desperation. Her dark curls framed a face etched with worry, eyes wide and searching. Even across the path, you could see the lines of stress and fatigue on her face.

Mikayla shrugged, her posture nonchalant, almost dismissive. "Nothing de wrong wid me. Yu eva deh overreacting," she said, her tone dripping with disdain. She folded her arms across her chest, her stance defensive and closed off.

Gabriella's face contorted with hurt, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Overreacting? Mi overreacting? Mi cyaa manage dis—mi cyaa manage wid yuh! Mi ave grad school applications, exams—"

"Yeh, and mi ave basketball," Mikayla shot back, her tone turning sharp and icy. "Mi cyaa manage wid yuh drama all di time."

Gabriella took a step back, her expression crumbling. "Mi? Mikayla, yuh know seh dis important fi mi," she said, her voice breaking. The desperation in her tone was clear, each word laced with pain.

Mikayla's eyes flashed with irritation, her jaw clenched tight. "And mi tired a be somebody secret. Duh yu even know o dat feels? Fi act like everything good all di time wen mi a go crazy?" Her voice was rising, anger bubbling just beneath the surface.

Gabriella’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head, unable to form a response. She turned abruptly and hurried back into the building, her sobs echoing in the stillness left behind. The sound tugged at your heart, and you realized with a shock that you hadn’t known they were dating.

For a moment, Mikayla stood there, staring after Gabriella, her short frame silhouetted against the dusty windows. Shadows danced across her face, emphasizing the tension settling into her features. She clenched her fists at her sides, then, with a frustrated curse that echoed through the corridor, she kicked a rock lying on the stone tiles. The small stone skittered across the ground and rolled to a slow stop right by your foot, disrupting the fragile peace of your hidden sanctuary.

You held your breath, heart pounding in your chest, praying she wouldn’t notice you. But it was too late. Her sharp eyes, glinting with a mix of anger and surprise, locked onto yours. Time seemed to freeze, tension thick in the air. The silence was a heavy blanket, smothering and suffocating, as Mikayla's gaze bore into you.

She walked over, each step deliberate and measured, the sound of her sneakers echoing on the ground like a drumbeat in the quiet space. When she stopped in front of you, her gaze dropped to your sketchbook. For a long, excruciating moment, she just stood there, staring intently at the detailed drawing. Her expression softened, the harsh lines of anger and frustration melting away, replaced by something almost like curiosity, or perhaps some form of disbelief.

The silence stretched between you, thick and uncomfortable, as if the very air was holding its breath. You could feel the weight of her presence, the heat of her barely contained emotions radiating off her in waves. Finally, Mikayla straightened, her cat-like brown eyes meeting yours. There was a flicker of something—recognition, perhaps, or maybe just a hint of understanding—in her gaze. It sent a wave of heat through your body that settled into the pit of your stomach. 

Her lips twisted into a cruel smile, the metal of her braces catching the dim light and glinting menacingly. It was a smile that held no warmth, only a cold amusement. She said nothing, her silence louder than any words could have been. Instead, she casually turned on her heel in a relaxed motion and left the atrium, her footsteps fading into the distance, leaving you alone once more with your thoughts and your sketches.

As her footsteps faded, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The atrium seemed to return to its quiet self, but something had shifted. You glanced down at Bertha, her tiny feet perfectly drawn on the page. Maybe, like her, you could have found a way to stand up for yourself just now.

Why didn’t I say anything? Why did I just sit there like a scared rabbit? you thought, frustration bubbling up inside you. The encounter left you rattled, but also strangely intrigued. You also thought about what could have driven Mikayla to such cruelty and why had Gabriela been keeping their relationship a secret. Furthermore, you wondered why Mikayla looked at your sketchbook with such intensity. 

The questions swirled in your mind, mingling with the lingering echoes of their argument. You gathered your belongings and stood, brushing off your corduroy skirt. I should have done something. Said something you berated yourself. The atrium felt different now, as if the air itself had absorbed the tension of the confrontation. You took one last look around before heading to your next class, your mind still buzzing with the unexpected drama you had witnessed. In a place where you often felt invisible, today you had been a silent observer to a moment of raw human emotion, and it pathetically left you feeling more disconnected and confused than ever.

It had been days since the encounter in the atrium. Today, the sky was blanketed by gray rain that drizzled steadily outside. You sat in the corner next to a window, your tray of lunch untouched beside you, engrossed in sketching a white-lipped tree frog. The rhythmic patter of rain against the glass provided a soothing backdrop to your thoughts, lulling you into a comfortable daze.

The canteen buzzed with the low hum of conversations, but you were lost in your own world, the frog's delicate form taking shape under your pencil. You meticulously added the tiny ridges along its back, the subtle curve of its legs. The drawing was almost complete when your peace was abruptly shattered.

Three trays clattered down on the table, and you jerked your head up in surprise. Mikayla, along with two other girls from the basketball team, had joined you. Lila, a cool senior who always seemed to be the center of attention, and Jaz, a junior who was perpetually giggly, were already deep in conversation as they approached. The three girls brought a whirlwind of energy with them, disrupting the tranquil bubble you had created.

"Eh, de sumady here?" Lila asked rhetorically, plopping down without waiting for an answer. Her auburn ‘fro was pulled into a puff, and her cheeks were still splashed with rain from outside. She glanced at your sketchbook with mild curiosity before dismissing it entirely. 

Jaz slid into the seat next to you, her tray clinking with a loud metallic scrape. Mikayla, her dark locs parted into two French braids, sat across from you. She gave you a brief nod, her expression unreadable. You hadn’t seen her since the strange encounter in the atrium and felt antsy being so close now.

They continued chatting and eating as if you weren't there, their laughter and banter filling the space between you. Lila was recounting a particularly amusing incident from practice, her hands animated as she spoke. Jaz laughed heartily, her voice ringing out above the din of the cafeteria. Mikayla smiled a bit but seemed more reserved, her eyes occasionally drifting towards you.

You felt a pang of anxiety, your mind scrambling for a way to escape the situation. Just as you were about to gather your things, Lila turned to you.

"Yu waan that?" she asked, picking up an apple from your tray with a mischievous grin. The green fruit was polished to a shine, and its crisp, tangy scent wafted over the table.

Before you could respond, Mikayla scowled at Lila. "Lila, yuh too rude! Yu cyaan jus thief from di gyal!" Her voice had a sharp edge to it, and her eyes flashed with a warning. Then, with a dramatic flourish, Mikayla snatched the apple from Lila's hand and took a bite herself. The crisp crunch echoed in the brief silence before the whole table erupted in laughter, the sound ringing in your ears.

You forced a smile, your heart pounding. The conversation shifted again, leaving you feeling even more out of place. Lila and Jaz resumed their animated discussion about the upcoming basketball game, their voices blending into the background noise of the cafeteria. Just as you were about to retreat back into your sketchbook, Jaz turned to you.

"Yaah a come tuh si wi tonight?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and she leaned in closer, her braids falling in loose waves around her face.

You hesitated, glancing nervously between the three girls. "Um, I wasn't planning to," you mumbled, your fingers tightening around your pencil. Your sketchbook suddenly felt like a flimsy shield against the social whirlwind.

"Nuh, yuh a guh ave fun- mi swear yuh a guh fulljoy it!" Jaz encouraged, her smile genuine. Her eyes were warm and inviting, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of hope.

Mikayla chuckled, the sound making you flinch. "Yeah, yu haffi come. Yu shud try mek friend dem fi once," she said, her tone teasing. Her eyes met yours briefly, and you saw a flicker of something—was it amusement or something else entirely?

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. The rest of the lunch break passed in a blur of awkwardness and forced conversation. The girls gossiped about their teammates, shared inside jokes, and included you in their banter a few times, though you mostly nodded and smiled, feeling like an outsider looking in.

Eventually, Lila and Jaz stood to leave, tossing casual goodbyes over their shoulders. Mikayla lingered behind, her eyes fixed on you. The cafeteria seemed to fade into the background, the noise dulling as she looked at you with a seriousness that caught you off guard.

"Mi expec tuh si yu tonight, Miss" she said directly, her voice holding a note of challenge. "Mi waan fi si yu deh.”

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving you with a swirling mix of emotions. You sat there for a moment, staring at the half-eaten apple on the table. Why had she invited you? What did she want? The questions gnawed at you, making it hard to concentrate as you gathered your things and left the canteen.

Table of Contents

Next Chapter

[formosusiniquis]

Gonna Y/N on his Wattpad til we're Canon

Written for @stevieweek Day 5: AU! A little peek behind the curtain here, originally I was going to do another installment of my Miss Congeniality!Stevie/Rockstar!Eddie universe until I had the world's longest day of work and they say write what you know. Now here we are.

Pre-Stevie Harrington/Eddie Munson; Robin Buckley & Stevie Harrington WC: 3523 | T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tags/Themes: Nonbinary!Steve Harrington; He/Him Lesbian!Robin Buckley; QPR Stobin; Librarian!Steve Harrington; Pseudo Influencers Stobin; Steve & Mike Friendship

AO3

“What are we doing, Stevie?” Robin’s voice coming from over their shoulder is a surprise if only because until Mrs. Robertson’s grandkids put her in that home next month they don’t actually live together.

Wrist deep in dishwater, the only sign they let slip that Robin startled them is the splash the plate they’d been washing makes when it lands. Flicking away water and suds from their fingers, Stevie reaches over to turn off the music they’d been playing. “If I turn around and I’m staring at your phone camera, so help me god.”

“Don’t turn around then.”

Ripping the dish towel from the stove door, Stevie gracefully dries their hands taking the time to get the dishwater wet out from between each finger. Satisfied, or calm at least, they turn to face the two unblinking eyes of the cameras on Robin’s android.

“Robin.”

From behind his phone he grins back at them, unabashed and uncaring as usual that he’s been filming for god only knows how long. “So do you want to tell everyone about what they just saw?”

They shove gently at the phone, jostling it enough that they can get past. There are a ton of things that need to be done around the apartment, chores that had been put off for Friday, but Stevie moves to the sofa instead. Now that Robin’s here nothing is going to get done. “Not really,” they say as they settle into the spot on the couch that they’ve perfectly broken in, “you know I hate it when you use your lifestyle vlogger voice with me.”

“Stevie!” Robin groans, flopping down onto the couch beside them. The camera is still up, but there’s no way the footage isn’t a blurry, motion sick mess with all of the movement that the two of them have forced it to do.  

He looks at them from over top of the phone, eyes serious even as he maintains the light and bright influencer voice on, “We owe it to the world to be a shining example of queerness in the homogenized world of the blogosphere. Me, a beautiful, occasional he/him lesbian. You, a chest-haired example that nonbinary doesn’t mean fem-lite, the both of us educating the world on what a queerplatonic relationship looks like and how it isn’t just ‘friends with a fancy name.’”

“Fine.”

“Fine!” he shoves at their shoulder, shaking them with a good natured vigor that pulls a laugh from Stevie for the first time in hours. “Okay, starting over. Stevie, do you want to tell our viewers who are helping us afford that new condo what they just witnessed.”

“There really isn’t anything to explain, Robin.” They say in the voice they’ve started adopting when the camera is in their face. Fake, a little extra. Something just a step beyond the persona that they relied on to get through the first couple years of high school.

“Ugh!”

“There isn’t! It’s been the longest day in the history of the entire world,” they point at the camera, looking into those blank black eyes. “If anyone in our audience has kids that they bring to a library, be good and kind to your children’s librarians, they are suffering. 

“I wanted kids,” they say as an aside to him, “remember how I wanted kids.”

Robin rolls his eyes, “So you’ve had a long day and decided to do what about it?”

“I’ve had the longest day.” They correct. “My one man department hosted three events, saw three hundred kids and someone peed in the floor.”

“So you decided to do what about it?”

“So I did what I always do at the end of a really long day. I put on my person-maker playlist.”

“Which is different from your baby-making playlist.”

“Obviously. That’s for sex. ” Stevie grins, mostly for Robin but they know it will get gif’d by the minimal audience that the channel the two of them ‘share’ has collected. “This is a bunch of songs that sound good when they’re really loud, with a solid bassline that I can play until I remember that I’m a person with a body that gets 12 hours at home before I have to go back to work and have parents ask me again why I don’t have the right free stuff to give to their kids for reading books.”

“You’re losing the plot and making me sad.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Which one of us had to clean up another human person’s pee today as part of their job after getting yelled at for not having enough dinosaurs?”

“Who is the only band on this playlist right now for the third year running?”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Say it like what?”

“Like there’s some kind of meaning to it.” The collage of their faces that Robin has as his phone case gets caught in the corner of their eye. Reminds them that this isn’t just a conversation between the two of them, it’s one between them and the 3,689 subscribers that help pay their bills. “It’s Corroded Coffin, a band I like a normal amount especially compared to our friends. When I was in high school it was a lot of dad rock and glam metal. When I was in college it was Fall Out Boy. This doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means everything when you’re 28 years old and thought about pinning a poster of the lead guitarist to our shared-”

“This is my apartment, you don’t live here. We are still living our ‘the door is always open, shared, individual apartments across the hall, Friends, Joey and Monica’ fantasy.”

“One, nobody has ever referenced Joey and Monica in duo and don’t think I’m gonna let the implication that I’m Joey slide. Two, you’ve just admitted that it’s our shared living space! As your partner in crime I get to decide which things mean things.”

“Oh yeah okay. Speaking of things meaning things: does this video have a point or did you need a full explanation of my activities before you post something humiliating me?”

“Nope,” he says with an undue cheer, “just thought you looked like a dingus shaking your ass while doing the dishes to a grown man screaming about how sex is also religion or whatever.”

“That is not what that song is about.’

“I’ll take your word for it, I didn’t grow up repressed and vaguely Catholic so I’m sure I’m missing some context.”

“Whatever.”

“Whatever,” he mocks.

They think about letting this be the rest of the evening, getting baited into another argument about stupid shit that they'll meander through for hours. At some point, as they chase each other's tails like puppies, Robin will forget he's filming and drop the camera and Stevie will actually be able to relax. But even with their mouth open Stevie thinks better.

“I might be the repressed former Catholic listening, but at least I know the songwriter also has a thing about punishment and forgiveness.”

They wink as the camera falls down into the sofa cushions, disappearing for however long it's about to take Robin to stop being mad at them. Now though they have opened themself up as a target of revenge, sharp smacks come along with cries of demonetization.

Robin's face is, thankfully, just as familiar blurry as it is in every other state. The only way Stevie could be any more familiar with that face is if it stared them in the mirror every morning. And that familiarity saves Robin from a trip to the floor, when Stevie blinks awake to him looming overtop of them.

“You can't be mad.”

“Whatever you did to me in your dream, you're forgiven. Unless it was shaving my head again and then you're dead to me.”

Flopping down from the plank he never had any hope of holding, Robin covers them from chest to toe. “I shaved both of our heads, it was an act of rebirth. I know you remember this. It was literally the day after our shared gender moment.”

“And I wasn't mad. Dream Robin is forgiven, real Robin needs to get off so I can go piss.”

The weight disappears from their chest, the feeling of the bed shifting under the added weight of their best friend comforting even though Stevie can feel the way he fidgets now that he's over there. Reaching for their phone on the bedside, their fingers close around nothing and suddenly things start making more sense.

“Where's my phone?”

“Why do you need your phone to pee?”

“I'm not playing questions with you, if you broke it just say something. I won't be mad. If you're pivoting into a prank channel I will be.”

Without their glasses, it's hard to make out what Robin’s face is actually doing but his hands fidget in the duvet with guilt. 

They can't be sure what his eyes are doing, but it feels like the two of them are locked in a movie standoff style, tense eye contact. Stevie can hear the kinda racist musical sting playing in their head. They squint. It doesn’t make anything easier to see, but it soothes their flaring sense of drama. 

The two of them stare: three, two, one. 

Stevie lunges first, but Robin’s elbows are sharper. They catch one to the shoulder in a downward karate chop. Twins in every way that matters, Stevie knows that Robin is only like a half inch shorter but his limbs gangle like he’s Big Bird and there’s a smaller person inside piloting him. Every time Stevie grabs for an arm or wrist they roll away, jerked in by strings. Stevie can see their phone, clutched tightly enough in Robin’s fist that it looks like it could crack.

He pulls it in tight to his chest, rolling into a roly poly ball around it.

“Okay, okay,” Stevie says, rocking back on their heels. Sight is the best place to move forward from here, if only so they can decide what kind of angry they should be with Robin right now. It’s hard to land on one when they can’t see any of the details on his face. Scrunchy face guilt is different than the kind where he can’t stop from smiling.

They lean around each other like stray cats circling in an ally. As Stevie reaches for their glasses on the nightstand, Robin rolls away with the phone still clutched tight to his chest. With them on, they can make out the pinched brow and brittle edges of his forced smile. This is more than just guilt over something, this is the same fragile shock from when he got into a college two states away and didn’t know if they’d come with. This is the face that came to Stevie the first time a research hole turned recorded rant posted online to make it easier for the Party to watch ended up being seen by ten thousand. This is the Robin that got a job offer someplace different than Stevie for the first time in years and didn’t know what to do about it.

“Just tell me what happened.” They flop back down on the bed beside crunched up limbs. Poking fingers into the ticklish spots behind kneepits until Robin starts to unfurl. “Whatever it is, I'm sure we can fix it together.”

“The video went viral.”

“That’s great?”

“Like really viral,” Robin repeats, the fluster taking over the normally soothing tone of his voice. “Like if we actually see any of the money from the video after it got ID claimed it’ll pay our bills for months viral. I had to start reporting comments for hate speech because I didn’t want to turn them off completely -- some of them are really sweet -- and the subscriber count has skyrocketed. It's kind of intimidating actually.”

“Sorry I’m so irresistible.” Robin still doesn’t crack a smile, the more he talks the more it looks like he’s about to crack apart. “Seriously, Robs if it’s just people being creeps on social media it’s not a big deal. You wouldn’t believe the kind of comments I get on my Instagram.”

“I think you should delete all your social media. Think about how cool and mysterious you would seem.”

“I think you should just show me whatever it is you think is going to freak me out.” Their phone has completely disappeared now, it’s probably been shoved deep into Robin’s sports bra where it will stay until he thinks the crisis is averted or until the sun explodes. “Is it work? One of the bitchy homeschool moms found it? My mom found it? Nancy found it and called you to say it was actually me and not her; and also she’s ending your flirtationship because virality is bad for her work? Tommy found it and called us both slurs but mine was in that kind of repressed sort of flirty way like he might want to hook up at the class reunion next month?”

“Stop guessing!”

“What! You’re freaking out, and since you won’t actually tell me why I’m stuck guessing. Unless you can get rabies from accidentally making one sorta popular-”

“Super popular.”

“Briefly popular video that no one is going to remember in a week from now because it’s the internet, then I’ve kind of run out of worst case scenarios,” they pause. “Oh! Wait, no, I’ve got another one, a really popular ‘this week on the internet’ content reviewer got both our pronouns wrong even though you literally said yours in the video.”

“Corroded Coffin saw the video and made a public comment about it.”

Stevie buries their laugh in Robin’s stomach, “Yeah, sure, if our worst case scenarios are happening inside one of those band fanfictions Mike wrote as a kid that he thinks we don’t know about.”

The rasp of the bandaid on the tip of Robin’s finger comes before the warmth of her palm on Stevie’s cheek. Face tilted up they can see the way the nerves have blown away like snow leaving only an icy seriousness. 

“Corroded Coffin saw the video,” he repeats each word, leaving a pause large enough to drive a truck through between each one, “and they made a public comment about it.”

There’s a ringing in their ears. Just overtop of that they can barely make out the sound of their own voice saying, “Let me see.”

Their phone appears from under Robin’s shirt like a rabbit from a hat, expected but no less miraculous. The notifications on the lock screen are ridiculous, numbers that make them realize their night’s sleep was saved only by the grace of do not disturb. Every person that’s ever been saved in their contacts have messaged them and every social media app they have has an red notification alert on it. Whatever public comment Robin was talking about would be impossible to find in the sea of people vying for full time public librarian and part time internet assistant Stevie Harrington’s attention.

Except every single one of their favorite baby geniuses has texted the screenshots, several times.

Mike is at the top of their inbox, beating out Dustin for the role of informant by ten minutes. He’s sent them 15 new messages, the most recent one an image and the word ‘Explain.’ He’ll be more fun to tease once they know what’s going on anyway. Dustin’s message looks more like a rant, the first sentence cut off but ‘I’m the one who intro…’ doesn’t look half as fun.

Message sixteen comes in before Stevie can open the others. The same image again and ‘How did you do this?’ Definitely the one to go to.

The same picture has been sent with every message. Making it easy to find out what has got the whole world up in arms.

Corroded Coffin @Corroded_Coffin_BandYes, we’ve seen the video. Eddie is very interested in knowing if he also features on the baby making playlist

robin rob bobbin @rockin_robin This is why i’m learning sign @believieinstevie [video]

Eddie Munson @eddiemunson_ohfishall Replying to @Corroded_Coffin_Band I said I wanted to find out what was on it the way Satan intended, just give me one chance Stevie please 🙏😈

“See what I mean.” Robin groans.

Already moving on from Mike’s messages, making sure to heart each one before they leave, Stevie has Twitter open scrolling through a heap of notifications they didn’t give a shit about looking for the one name they did. “Sure do.”

“We could take the video down, but I’m not sure that would fix anything.”

“I’m not worried about it, Rob, really.”

“Then what are you doing? Cause believe me doom scrolling through all of the terrible things people have said about you first thing in the morning is not the way you want to spend the morning.”

“I'm not doing anything.”

“You're mad, aren't you. I'll take the video down, we can pretend like this never happened.”

“If you do that I will be actually mad at you.” Stevie says. At this point it probably wouldn't really matter but the point is what's important. “Didn't you say we're making a ton of money on it?”

“If we get to keep any of it, the music copyright claim system is confusing and we've never really made enough money on anything to do more than splurge on nice pizza and wine on movie night. I think we're going to have to start a podcast.”

“The world doesn't need one more podcast. We would be like the Basement Yard but better.”

Robin wiggles down the bed like a worm, arms tucked in tight to his sides, moving until the two of them are nose to nose. A fucking busybody, Stevie saves them both the trouble and adjusts the phone so he can see it too. It took a couple tries but they finally found the tweet from Eddie, he had followed back too.

“Are you sure that’s the first thing you want to say to the guy?”

“You think I’m coming on too strong? He already knows I’m into him and his stuff.”

He shrugs, makes a face that Stevie easily interprets as yes but with exceptions. Robin actually says, “You’re better at this than me.”

Stevie Harrington reformed babysitter @believieinstevie Replying to @eddiemunson_ohfishallI’d love to hear how you sound screaming over top of it. If you ever actually wanna take your shot.

Sending it off, Stevie spares a second to wonder if maybe they should have thought this over a little longer. Here in the middle of their fifteen seconds of fame, a thirst tweet is more than just an ill advised harassment it carries weight. These thoughts aren’t going to get buried under an avalanche of fellow desperate attention seekers.

They take a screenshot to capture for posterity what will either be the last moment of semi-normal life or one of the most embarrassing faux pas they’ll probably ever have. Either way it’ll make an interesting story a couple years down the line, especially if Robin keeps this digital media creator thing up.

Another text from Mike comes through at the top of their screen. A series of frantic question marks and on the wind Stevie thinks that they can hear the sound of his scream.

They’re just vain enough to be certain that he turned on post notifications waiting to see what they would say in response to his current favorite musician.

The floating dots are in the text window when Stevie opens it up to respond. “How mean are you going to be?” Robin asks.

“He told Holly to ask me if I was really old enough to remember when phones still had buttons this week. So exactly as mean as that deserves.”

“I feel like I should be jealous that you haven’t dated Nancy in years and he’s still giving you the snot nosed little brother treatment.”

They knock their forehead against Robin’s to transfer their shared brain cell and clue him in on what he’s actually asking. “He’s a shit because I babysat him for three years longer than he probably needed a babysitter. But I’ll gladly transfer ownership, once you actually land something more than a lingering mid-afternoon wine bar thing where you both go home sober but out twenty bucks.”

Robin knocks back, “I think whatever bitchy thing you say to him will cement me as the forever favorite.”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

[Stevie]: didn’t even have to pull my hair up in a messy bun to get the y/n treatment

[Stevie]: when i get they try to anna todd me i want you to write the book

[Favorite Wheeler]: i want an autograph, 0 details and to get to be the one to tell Dustin why you turn on post notifications for your favs

[Stevie]: if this works, you can officiate the wedding

[Favorite Wheeler: [Img]

[Favorite Wheeler]: Move this to the dms before you both get canceled.

[Favorite Wheeler]: And I’m happy for you or whatever

[Stevie]: thanks, kid

[Stevie]: if it wasn’t for your 8th grade wattpad fanfiction I might not have known how to handle this

[simshousewindsor]

By Cameron Dorly | Published by SNN

EASTON, Windenburg (SNN) - - The Supreme Court announced the retirement of The Lord Dathren of Allameda (President) today. Justices are required to retire on becoming 75 years old, or may be removed on the address of both Houses of Parliament; Lord Dathren's is the former, turning 75 on 4 November.

Educated at St Leo's School, Windenburg, Dathren read history at New College, Stafford, and obtained the degree of LLM (Master of Laws) from the University of Britechester Law School in 1977. He was called to the bar at Middle Simple in 1977 and elected a Bencher in 1981.

He was appointed King's Counsel in 1983, a deputy judge of the High Court from 1984 to 1985, and judge of the High Court of Justice (Chansimery Division) in 1987.

On 20 December 1988, it was announced that Dathren would replace the late Lord Murray of McBride as a Justice of the Supreme Court of the United Kingdom. He was sworn in on 6 February 1989.

He received his customary knighthood from King Edward II in February 1989.

Dathren was appointed Deputy President of the Supreme Court of the United Kingdom in May 1993, succeeding Lord Muncen on his retirement. He was sworn into the new position on 6 June 1993.

On 24 July 1998, King George I declared his intention to appoint him President of the Supreme Court and to raise him to the peerage. He succeeded Baroness Jordan of Richland as President on 11 January 1999 on her retirement and on the same day was created a life peer as Baron Dathren of Allameda, of Sumter Park in the Easton Borough of Bromley. He was sworn in as president on 13 January and introduced to the House of Lords on 16 January 1999.

The Judicial Committee of the Privy Council voted on Tuesday evening to designate Baron Dathren “President Emeritus,” as the longtime Justice prepares to step away from the top brass of the courts. “Baron Dathren will go down as one of the greatest legislative leaders in Windenburg history,” said committee leader Hakeem Jennings.

When vacancies arise for Associate Justices of the Supreme Court, an independent selection commission is formed. It is composed of the President of the Supreme Court (the chair), another senior UK judge (not a Supreme Court Justice), and a member of the Judicial Appointments Commission of Windenburg and Brindleton Bay, and the Judicial Appointments Board for Windenburg. By law, at least one of these must be a non-lawyer. This was last done in 2022 when The Right Hon Lady Keisha Unders was appointed.

There is a similar but separate commission to appoint the next President of the Supreme Court, which is chaired by one of the non-lawyer members and features another Supreme Court Justice in the place of the President.

The President and Deputy President of the Supreme Court are appointed to those roles rather than being the most senior by tenure in office.

Dathren's retirement opened up the need for a new Justice, and President.

In a clearly pre-planned move, both commissions released joint statements signaling Dathren's retirement was not a surprise. The commission to appoint a new President selected Deputy President, Lady Ruth Allen Ginsburg, to fill the soon-to-be vacancy. They then selected Lord Arthur Roberts to be the next Deputy President. Both selections were approved by the Lord Chancellor, sent to the Prime Minister last week and, yesterday, approved by the Queen.

The Independent Selection Commission met over the past three weeks and selected Sir Lloyd Stephens to fill to upcoming Justice vacancy. They notified the Lord Chancellor of its choice who then approved the commission's selection. The Prime Minister recommend Stephens to the Queen for appointment last week, which was also approved yesterday.

Welcoming the announcement, current President of the Supreme Court, The Right Hon The Lord Charles Dathren of Allameda said:

"Although he arrives as I depart, I am delighted to welcome Lord Justice Stephens as a Justice to the Supreme Court. He will bring exceptional experience and ability to the Court following a distinguished career as a barrister and Judge. His experience in employment law, tax, public law and criminal law will be highly valuable to the Supreme Court and will further strengthen us as a Sims world-leading Court."

So, who is the (soon-to-be) new Associate Justice?

Sir Lloyd Stephens, styled The Hon. Mr Lloyd Stephens, is a judge of the High Court of Justice of the Courts of Windenburg and Brindleton Bay. He was counsel to the Leverton Inquiry.

He was educated at King's College School, a private fee paying school for boys in Brambledon in South West Easton. He won an Open Scholarship to New College, Stafford, where he obtained a first in jurisprudence.

Lloyd was called to the Bar at Middle Simple in 1985. From 1999 to 2001 he was one of the Junior Counsel to the Crown (Common Law). He was appointed King's Counsel in 2001. He was a recorder from 2002 to 2014 and was approved to sit as a deputy High Court judge.

He was counsel to the Leverton Inquiry into phone-hacking and media ethics, when he came to public attention due to televising and other reporting.

On 4 June 2017, he was appointed a High Court judge, receiving the customary knighthood in the 2017 Special Honors, and was assigned to the King's Bench Division.

In December 2020 he presided over a challenge made against the Government by Sims of the Earth that the National Planning Policy Framework (NPPF) document issued July 2020 was unlawful because it should have been reviewed for its impacts on the simvironment.

Stephens will take up appointment as a Justice of the Supreme Court of the United Kingdom on 9 December 2024, taking the judicial courtesy title of Lord Stephens.

New judges appointed to the Supreme Court after its creation do not necessarily receive peerages. Following a Royal Warrant dated 22 September 2008, all Justices of the Supreme Court of the United Kingdom not holding a peerage are entitled to the judicial courtesy title of Lord or Lady and retain this style for life.

The palace has not yet released a date as to when the new Justice will meet the Queen.

[ahedderick]

Counting down to finals

My son's chemistry teacher seemed to falter after the Thanksgiving break. She told the students that no more lab assignments would be due; they would simply receive 100% for all the rest of the work. F-i-n-e, but suspicious. This sounds to me like a teacher who has belatedly realized that a ridiculously high number of her students are failing, and is trying to cover her ass. She also stopped regularly posting due dates for the lecture assignments (which were all given out in a packet at the beginning of the year), and quizzes for those assignments. I've been uneasy about that.

Sure enough, when Son checked his dashboard yesterday evening, he found NINE assignments, quizzes, lab assignments, and a pre-test are due on MONDAY. Now he generally keeps an eye on his dashboard several days in advance, so nothing 'sneaks up' on him. However, he told me that this MASS of material wasn't posted when he last checked. And, honestly, no matter how far in advance it was posted, it is bonkers to have nine lengthy assignments due in one day for one class.

The university is having major financial troubles, and has responded by cutting classes - because apparently educating the students is their last concern. The wildlife/fisheries department may not be scheduling several of the 300 and 400 level classes required for his major because of "low enrollment."

Ok. FIRST of all. If there weren't so MANY teachers in the bio, chem, and math dept that have completely abandoned their jobs and flunked over half the class in the past couple of years, so students aren't able to get the earlier prerequisites for their major completed, you might not have "low enrollment" in the higher level courses. AND I feel like if a uni offers a degree in Fisheries biology, and then decides at some point to stop offering that major, they have an ethical responsibility to continue offering the classes for those who have gotten to a junior or senior level in the program no matter what.

I am verklempt. I graduated from the uni in 1991. My mother in 1963, and my grandmother in 1921. HER father was one of the coal miners who saved up to create a college (in 1898) that would be available to the rural students in this area. This is . . . personal.

[shewhoworshipscarlin]

Alvin Childress

Alvin Childress (September 15, 1907 – April 19, 1986) was an American actor, who is best known for playing the cabdriver Amos Jones in the 1950s television comedy series Amos 'n' Andy.

Alvin Childress was born in Meridian, Mississippi. He was educated at Rust College, from which he received a Bachelor of Arts degree in sociology. When he initially entered college, Childress intended to become a doctor, enrolling in typical pre-med courses. He had no thoughts of becoming involved in acting, but became involved in theater outside of classes. Childress and Rex Ingram in the Federal Theatre Project production of Haiti (1938)

Childress's first wife was the former Alice Herndon, who established herself as a successful writer and actress under the name of Alice Childress (1916–1994); the couple was married from 1934 to 1957 and had a daughter, Jean Rosa. From 1961 to 1973, Childress worked as an unemployment interviewer for the Los Angeles Department of Personnel and in the Civil Service Commission of Los Angeles County.

Childress moved to New York City and became an actor with Harlem's Lafayette Players, a troupe of stock players associated with the Lafayette Theatre. Soon, he was engaged as an actor in the Federal Theater Project, the American Negro Theater, and in all-black race film productions such as Keep Punching (1939). His greatest success on the stage was his performance as Noah in the popular drama, Anna Lucasta, which ran for 957 performances. He also worked at Teachers College of Columbia University. Childress also operated his own radio and record store in New York City. When he learned about casting for the Amos 'n' Andy television series, Childress decided to audition for a role. He was hired a year before the show went on the air.

In 1951, he was cast as the level-headed, hard-working and honest Amos Jones in the popular television series, The Amos 'n' Andy Show, which ran for two years on CBS. Childress originally tried out for the role of The Kingfish, but Charles Correll and Freeman Gosden cast him as Amos. Since he had been hired a year before the show began, Gosden and Correll turned the search for an actor to play "The Kingfish" over to Childress. In a 1979 interview, Childress shared information about some of the candidates. Cab Calloway was considered but found wanting by Gosden because of his straight hair. Childress said there were many famous men, with and without actual acting experience, who wanted to play the role. Eventually, old-time vaudeville comedian Tim Moore was cast as the Kingfish.

Shortly after the television show had ended, plans to turn it into a vaudeville act were announced in 1953, with Childress, Williams and Moore playing the same roles as they had in the television series. It is not known if there were any performances. In 1956, after the television show was no longer in production, Childress and some of his fellow cast members: Tim Moore, Spencer Williams, and Lillian Randolph along with her choir, began a tour of the US as "The TV Stars of Amos 'n' Andy". The tour was halted by CBS as the network considered this an infringement of their rights to the program and its cast of characters. Despite the threats which ended the 1956 tour, Childress, along with Moore, Williams and Johnny Lee were able to perform one night in 1957 in Windsor, Ontario, apparently without legal action. When he tried for work as an actor, Childress found none as he was typecast as Amos Jones. For a short time, Childress found himself parking cars for an upscale Beverly Hills restaurant.

Childress also appeared in roles on the television series Perry Mason, Sanford and Son, Good Times and The Jeffersons and in the films Thunderbolt and Lightfoot (1974) and The Day of the Locust (1975). When Childress appeared as a minister in a 1972 episode of Sanford and Son, he was reunited with two former cast members: Lillian Randolph of Amos 'n' Andy in the role of Aunt Hazel and Lance Taylor, Jr. of Anna Lucasta, with the role of Uncle Edgar.

Childress suffered from diabetes and other ailments. He died at age 78 on April 19, 1986, in Inglewood, California. He was buried at National Memorial Harmony Park in Landover, Maryland.

[eretzyisrael]

By Susan Edelman and Deirdre Bardolf

Activists and foreign actors have infiltrated the city’s public schools with anti-Israel materials, fostering bias and hatred of Jews, according to a new report by a nonprofit think tank.

Teacher groups like NYC Educators for Palestine have collaborated with extremist organizations, some allegedly tied to hostile foreign governments and terrorist groups, to bring “radical, anti-American ideologies” into schools, said the Network Contagion Research Institute, or NCRI, and the advocacy group New York City Public School Alliance, which co-wrote the report.

“The report exposes how the Department of Education’s vetted resources enable radical sympathizers to shape young minds with biased information,” said Tova Plaut, a DOE pre-K coordinator and co-founder with teacher Karen Feldman of NYCPS Alliance, a group of Jewish educators who contributed to the project.

8An “Arab World” classroom map at Brooklyn’s PS 261 that excluded Israel was provided by the Qatar Foundation, an arm of the country’s ruling family, which has donated $1 million to NYC schools.

8The report found a network of “radical” curriculum developers, activist educator groups and foreign influences that have contributed to the infiltration of anti-Israel materials within the NYC public school system.NCRI

Set for release this week, the report cites DOE documents, school events and staff social media posts as evidence of its findings.

It calls on the DOE to immediately conduct a curriculum review; enforce the chancellor’s anti-discrimination policies; adopt a definition of antisemitism and mandate training on it; and increase oversight of foreign funding.

“If these ideas are left unchecked, they will be internalized by a new generation of students, who will then  graduate, attend university, vote, enter the workforce, and raise families of their own, further embedding antisemitic beliefs into wider American society,” the NCRI and NYC Public Schools Alliance said.

Among the findings:

The DOE’s recommended resources for teachers include the Zinn Education Project, which provide lessons, workshops and articles highly critical of Israel and the US.

The DOE staff resource list links to the Zinn website, which features a section on “Teaching About Palestine-Israel and the Unfolding Genocide in Gaza” that claims, “Israel has turned Gaza into a ‘graveyard for children.”

Beacon High School in Midtown used Zinn lessons and articles, along with videos from Arab news network Al Jazeera, for a 10th-grade social studies class on the Israel-Palestine conflict, emails reviewed by The Post show.

The content “demonized Jews” while referring to Hamas as “a political party and militant group,” not as terrorists, parents said.

Other resources available for NYC teachers to use at “their discretion” include those from the Teach Palestine project, which gives materials that emphasize “Palestinian victimhood” and frame Zionism as a “colonialist” movement.

Teach Palestine is financially supported by the Middle East Children’s Alliance (MECA), a California-based nonprofit with reported ties to the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, a U.S.-designated terrorist organization.

In May, the PTA of Ella Baker School, a public elementary on the Upper West Side, hosted a “Teach Palestine” webinar, sponsored by Rethinking Schools, the report said.

Materials covered topics such as “anti-Zionism is not automatically antisemitism,” and “Israel’s attacks on children, schools, and historical memory in Palestine.”

These potentially violate Chancellor’s Regulation A-830, according to the report. 

The report cites two groups, NYC Educators For Palestine, an arm of the UFT caucus MORE, and Teaching While Muslim, which hosted a virtual “curriculum share” for 80 teachers in February.