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sortasirius · 5 years

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A Life Worth Living

Pairing: Dean/Cas Dean/pretty much anyone he’s had a relationship with in the show and original characters bc I have a problem

AN: Looks like I’m down the rabbit hole with Dean coming out lol. This is angsty......very angsty.

Warnings: Abuse, Alcoholism, John Winchester being a horrible parent, Violence

Words: A very gratuitous 3643

As always, up on my AO3 here.

Dean’s first crush was Eleanor Andrews when he was four years old. She was blond and had pink ribbons at the end of her pigtails. She and Dean pretended to get married in the playground in Lawrence, Kansas and promised to be together forever. The last time he saw her was the day that Mary died, and he had given her a worm he found in the grass. She said she’d keep it forever.

When Mary died, John made Dean become a man overnight. He was four years old and told how to hold a shotgun that was taller than him. They spent the next few years on the road, or at Bobby’s, or at Pastor Jim’s. Dean saw less of his father than he’d like to admit, but took care of Sam, because that’s what John told him to do. “Watch out for Sammy” was the constant mantra he was never, not for one second, allowed to forget.

When Dean was eight and Sam was four, John started taking him on the road with him. Different hotels, cities, towns, highways every week. At first it was cool, Dean liked watching the winding asphalt roads, twisting up towards mountains or around lakes, sometimes windy, sometimes still, sometimes hot, and sometimes snowy. Hotels always had TV and a bed all to himself. He would take Sam to preschool and walk over to school himself, where everyone always thought he was cool because he was always the new kid. He would leave school, pick up Sam, walk back to whatever hotel they were staying in that week, make Sam dinner, tuck him in, and then keep watch for anything that might come in. It was kinda lonely sometimes, especially since they moved around so much, but that was okay, as long as he could take care of Sam.

When Dean was ten, he met Sarah Deleon when John had them stay in Lafayette, Indiana for two months while he hunted some ghouls. She had brown hair and bright green eyes and wasn’t interested in talking to him, which made Dean want to talk to her even more. He met her when he was trying to drag Sam out of the library after school. He recognized her from his class and had swaggered over to her the way he had seen the cowboys do in his favorite Western movies. She had barely looked up from her book until Sam asked what she was reading. Turns out it was a book about a cowdog named Hank, and Dean ended up stealing it from the library and reading it every night. He really wanted to live on a ranch sometimes.

She, Dean, and Sam were pretty much inseparable for the next few weeks, staying at the library right up until closing, until Mrs. May told them all to go home before it got too dark. Dean liked the way Sarah laughed at him and told him to read more, and he really liked the way she listened to Sam. When John came back and told them to get in the car one early morning, Dean felt an ache in his chest that he didn’t get to say goodbye.

As the years wore on, the novelty of travel wore off. Hotels weren’t interesting anymore, just more of the same. The food was almost always bad, and the cool factor of being the new kid transformed into being the weird kid by the time Dean hit middle school. Dean was Sam’s constant protector, and even though he would do anything for his brother, even give him the last of the Lucky Charms, sometimes he just wanted to be able to get a soda without worrying about what John would say if he did. But, of course, the one time he did that, a shtriga almost killed Sam, and John, bursting in at the exact right moment, did what Dean couldn’t do, and never looked at Dean the same way again.

Dean’s first kiss was a girl named Bria Zuniga, and she kissed Dean behind the school in Pinedale, Wyoming when he was thirteen. She had black hair and bright blue eyes, and Dean remembered how nervous he had been when she had leaned in, he thought he was gonna be bad at it. John had dragged them out of there two days later, and Dean had given Bria another kiss before they left. John had clapped him on the shoulder.

Things got complicated when he turned fourteen. Dean and Sam, who was growing like a total weed and was going to be taller than Dean, damn him, were left in Riverside, Iowa, James T. Kirk’s future birthplace, which was totally awesome, while John hunted a demon in the area. That was where Dean met Jim Barnes, and it was like he could see through Dean’s cool guy loner persona. He had light brown hair and dark brown eyes and they bonded over Star Trek and Batman, and Jim even showed Dean his comic collection, which was pretty cool. He introduced Dean to Kurt Vonnegut and gave him the copy of Cat’s Cradle Dean still has to this day. Dean introduced him to Led Zeppelin, and when Sam was studying at the hotel and insisted that he could take care of himself for a couple of hours, they went out to the movies and saw Jurassic Park. That night, they walked back towards Jim’s house, talking about which dinosaur they would keep as a pet, when Dean kissed him. It was simple and short and kinda sweet, and afterward Jim put his hand in Dean’s and Dean walked him to the door. Four days later, right after school, John was waiting for them, the Impala running and the kind of look on his face that told Dean not to push any buttons if he didn’t want a black eye, but he was always a risk-taker, so he ran back inside and gave Jim one last kiss in the dirty school bathroom before watching Jim Kirk’s future birthplace fade away like fogged breath on the window of the Impala.

Dean was sixteen when John had told the cops that he could rot in prison. He had given the cop a black eye and they had shipped him off to Sonny’s and even though it hurt to be away from Sam, for the first time in his life, Dean had friends, he did well in school, he made the wrestling team, and he met Robin. She had dark hair and dark eyes with a kind smile. Sonny never made him feel like he was less than, and for the first time, he didn’t have to think about what was out there in the dark. He still missed Sam, but not having John around was like being able to see blue sky after years and years of overcast. He told Robin his dreams, talked about his love of cars, how much he liked to sing. She listened, and he listened to her dreams, let her take all the photos of him she wanted, and sort of, kind of, fell in love with her. She kissed him on Sonny’s couch with a guitar between them, and he made promises to her that he really wished he could keep. And when John came back on the night of his first school dance, his dance with Robin, he really wished he could be someone other than Dean Winchester. Sonny gave him a choice, gave him a chance at normal, at Robin, at a family that didn’t drink too much and bruise your wrists when you didn’t do the dishes. But when he looked out the window and saw Sam with his stupid toy plane, he knew. Dean couldn’t, wouldn’t leave Sam.

After Robin, Dean didn’t really pay attention to anyone but Sam. He met girls, flirted with girls, kissed girls, hooked up with girls, and then left girls as easy as drawing breath. And hell, when you move around every other week it was easy. Arrogance and disdain for school bought him cool guy cred, and cool guy cred usually meant that people left him alone. When he was seventeen, he met Amanda Heckerling at Truman High. She was blonde with blue eyes and was whip smart. She kissed him and it tasted like candy. He liked her a lot, but he didn’t want to feel that vulnerability he felt with Robin, and when she called him out for being afraid, he did what he did best. He ran away.

Dean got his GED at nineteen and watched Sam go from little brother to actual man. He studied hard and Dean was fiercely proud of him for it. And then, one night, when Dean was twenty, he came back from a bar in Flagstaff, Arizona where they were staying, and Sam was gone. Panic settled in his throat like someone was choking him. He spent a week without sleeping, looking everywhere for Sam. He checked every hotel, snuck his way to every security room with cameras he could, asking anyone who would pay him the time of day if they had seen him, but no one had. And then, nine days after Sam had disappeared, John came back, and if Dean had wished he was dead before, it was nothing to what John made him feel. He was pretty sure his jaw was fractured and he knew he had some cracked ribs, but that was nothing to him, all that mattered was finding Sam, getting Sam home. John found him in some shitty little apartment on the outskirts of town with pizza boxes and a dog and a stolen car outside. Dean had gripped him tightly and ignored Sam’s questions about the state of his face. He tripped, he said, coming out of a bar. Sam told him he drank too much. Dean looked at John’s bruised knuckles and quietly thought he didn’t drink enough.

Dean met Andrew Hawkins on his twenty-first birthday in Roundup, Montana. Sam was studying for the ACT, whatever that is, and John was out on an extended rugaru hunt or drinking binge. Andrew had hazel eyes and dark brown hair and they made conversation over a friendly game of pool. A friendly conversation turned into too many shots, and then they stumbled into the alley behind the bar, away from the prying pink neon lights, and Dean let himself touch and be touched, knowing that it meant nothing, but meaning everything in the moment. Andrew took control in a way that Dean had never known, and when he came back to the hotel with too many hickies on his neck, Sam laughed and said he hoped she didn’t look half as bad as Dean did. Dean laughed to hide the shame that rose like vomit in his throat.

Sam left for Stanford when Dean was twenty-two. When he told John, during the middle of an argument, because Sam always had impeccable timing, Dean felt like the world was falling out from under him. Who the hell was he if he didn’t have Sam? He couldn’t even remember being his own person anymore. John had tried everything, screaming, slamming things into walls, breaking glass, getting in Sam’s space, but Sam wasn’t afraid of him anymore, and John had never hit Sam, not that Dean would ever have let him. Sam left that night, taking only what he could carry in a bag and looking back at Dean with what Dean thought might be an apology in his face. John had yelled after him that if he was going to go he should stay gone, and that was that. The frail wooden door slammed behind him, and Dean’s little brother was out on his own. Even years later, Dean didn’t tell Sam about the rest of that night, but he was lucky to survive it. He kept John at arm’s length after that, after his right arm had healed, anyway.

Dean tried to be a nomad, not get attached to anyone for anything except for the Impala. He and John made tracks across the country, so many miles on the odometer he almost expected it to break. John routinely dragged them to the west coast just to see what Sam was up to, and that was when he started to let Dean off on his own. The grooves in the highway were his best friends, and he went places John would never go. The deep South, the Canadian border, bigger cities, all the places he had wanted to be when he was younger. He fought ghouls and ghosts and demons and vamps. He repaired junker cars when he stopped by Bobby’s every so often. He checked in with John every other day and they sometimes met up for a hunt. He met people, fucked them, and then left. Had the bendiest weekend of his life with Lisa Braeden. It wasn’t really freedom, but it was about as close as he could hope for.

Dean met Cassie in Mississippi when he was twenty-four. She had dark hair and dark eyes. She was smarter than him, prettier than him, and even though he had a pact with himself to never get attached, she made herself comfortable in his heart. He felt himself falling, like he had taken a running leap off a cliff and there was nothing below him but endless air and sharp rocks at the bottom. So, in the middle of the night, he did what John would have done, and he left, trying to ignore the tears that spilled from his eyes as he crossed the Alabama border.

John gave him the Impala on his twenty-fifth birthday. She was everything he had ever wanted in a car. His first home, with his and Sam’s initials carved in the back. John had bruised the back of his neck with his hand and told him to take care of the car. Dean swore he wouldn’t let him down.

It all went to hell when Dean met Connor Stevens two months later. He was on a routine hunt with John. Vengeful spirit, whatever. He was doing research in the library when this dorky guy with glasses, a bow tie, red hair, and blue eyes sat down at his table. The got to talking about what they were reading and ended up having dinner at a way too nice restaurant that Connor suggested. It was a break from burgers and beer and the ever-looming presence of John. Connor asked him halfway through if this was a date, and Dean blushingly said he hoped so. They ended up back at Dean’s room since John would be out most of the night. Until, of course, he wasn’t. Dean was used to being afraid of John, but never before had he felt terror like that. John didn’t speak to him for nearly two months, and Dean was left floundering in a lake of guilt and shame, mixed with a healthy dose of defiance, but he always came back to John, because that’s what a good son does.

When John disappeared when Dean was twenty-six, he didn’t have anyone to turn to, so he went back to Sam. He hated that he had to take Sam away from his life, where he was clearly thriving with his very pretty girlfriend Jess and his good grades, but Dean was no soldier with no one to follow, and he swore to himself that once they found John that he would let Sam go. But the universe never seemed to give him what he wanted, and Dean had to drag Sam away from Jess burning on the ceiling, just like their mother had.

He and Sam become hunters together, and even though he knew he could never heal the pain of losing Jess, he could at least make it so that the Impala became Sam’s home again. Her tires sped along the winding roads all across the country, and even though it was selfish, having Sam back made Dean feel as calm as he had in years.

John died when Dean was twenty-seven. Dean felt his heart break, but also felt like someone had taken handcuffs off him that he had been wearing for so long he didn’t even realize he was wearing them.

Dean went to hell when he was twenty-nine. The sound of the hellhounds tearing through the house towards him were terrifying, but the knowledge that he had done this for Sam made him feel a little better about getting ripped to shreds by dogs from hell.

Hell was worse than he could have ever imagined. Torture was about the best thing that could happen to you down there. Allistair had convinced him to pick up a knife, and even though he knew it was wrong, he knew that John would hate him for what he was doing, he took the knife from Allistair and thought, what the hell, John hated him anyway.

Dean met Castiel when he was thirty. He had black hair and blue eyes and giant black wings. He left a mark on Dean even before they met. He stood too close to Dean and made him feel like he was being x-rayed every time they made eye contact, but Dean could never make himself look away.

Dean settled down with Lisa Braeden when he was thirty-one. She had black hair and brown eyes and the kindest and most beautiful heart he had ever known. He was very lucky to have her and Ben. Probably a little too lucky. He slept with a gun under his pillow every night. You never knew what was waiting in the dark. He had nightmares about Sam throwing himself in the pit and she would comfort him, and when Sam showed back up when he was thirty-two, she let him go hunt with him. He made her forget him when he was thirty, and that was a wound that he knew would never really heal.

Dean went to Purgatory when he was thirty-four. He spent a year there with Benny, vamp turned new best friend in tow, and every night, when he was trying to sleep, he would think of one thing, where, how, when to find Cas. It was stupid, he was probably dead, Benny said pretty much every day, but until they found a pile of bones with a trenchcoat, Dean wouldn’t believe that. They ended up finding him, and losing Cas to Purgatory just as he and Benny escaped made Dean want to jump right back into it, and he wasn’t really sure why.

He met Amara when he was thirty-seven. She was all powerful and deeply frightening, but Dean felt a pull towards her that he had never felt towards anyone or anything. She knew this, she tried to use it against him, but something broke when she started torturing Cas, probably because they were best friends. Because Dean needed Cas. He needed Cas. He needed Cas.

Dean lost Cas to an angel blade held by Lucifer when he was thirty-nine. He begged God, Chuck, whatever to bring him back. It was like someone punched a hole in his chest, and when they burned his body, it sort of felt like Dean was burning too.

Jack brought Cas back when Dean was thirty-nine. It felt like he had aged forty years since he last saw him. He didn’t tell Cas that he didn’t cope well with him being gone, but he thought Cas knew, because Cas knew everything about him. They went back to the way things should be. They hunted, watched movies, sang terribly in the Impala, and Dean felt like he really, truly, had a family again. He would look at Cas when he didn’t think Cas could see, and even though he knew they were best friends and nothing more, sometimes Dean would think about just how beautiful Cas was.

Dean kissed Cas when he was forty-one. He was older, that there was less time, that Chuck was going to kill him one way or another, and Dean didn’t want Cas to be another what if, especially if he was about to spend eternity in Hell, which is probably where he would end up anyway. He kissed him in the Impala, when he and Cas tried to escape Belphegor’s incessant talking and Sam had disappeared to read in his room in the bunker. Zeppelin played softly from the Impala’s speakers, and Dean instinctually leaned forward, like he had meant to do it all his life. Cas’ lips were chapped and soft and Dean didn’t ever want to pull back from him. But when he did, Cas gave him the kind of smile that made it all worth it. The pain, the self-hatred, the hunting, the angels, devils, destiny, and God himself are all worth dealing with if it meant that this moment could exist with Cas in the Impala.

Dean told Sam the truth when he was forty-one. He told him about John, about Flagstaff, about Stanford, and about Jim, Andrew, Robin, Cas, and all the rest. Dean laid his heart out on the line, because if anyone deserved to know who he really was, it was Sam. And Sam, because he was the best brother in the world, didn’t say anything, just leaned forward and hugged Dean as tightly as he had when Dean left Sonny’s. It was one of those hugs that sort of made the world turn a little easier, and Dean knew that he was still the luckiest guy on earth to have Sam Winchester as his brother. His family, Sam and Cas, they’re what make life worth living, and even if they had ten years of ten minutes left together, Dean was finally going to make the most of it.

#dean winchester #spn fic #destiel fic #deancas #supernatural #fanfiction #writing #my writing #bi dean #sam winchester #castiel #dean #spn #cas #sam #i love this boi a whole lot if you cant tell #also i see a lot of me in him which is probs why i cant stop writing him coming out lol

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ashotinthedark-avengers · 5 years

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A Shot In The Dark: Chapter 1: Every Hero Needs A Backstory- Part 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character

Warnings: Death, Depression

A Shot In The Dark: Chapter 1: Every Hero Needs A Backstory- Part 1

You decided to get some coffee before heading back to lab. You were currently doing some research on how radiation can affect plasma molding. You knew plasma can act either as a gas or a solid molecularly at the same time. You were doing research on how you could instantaneously shift from plasma to solid back to plasma. Plasma is made up of charged particles that relies on electrostatic interactions making them able to conduct electricity and magnetic fields. When energy or electricity is passing through them, the particles in an atom move faster and collide with each other. Unfortunately, plasma atoms do not collide with each other fast enough- that would be a solid. So what if there was a way to run enough energy through the plasma that can change it. This is what you were researching.

Some gases, with enough energy, produce plasma. So with even more energy, they should produce a solid right?

That’s where the radiation come in. A flash of a wave of radiation can produce an immense amount of heat and energy.On the electromagnetic radiation spectrum gamma radiation then cosmic radiation gives the most photon energy per frequency of wave.

There's no way you were able to get cosmic radiation, so gamma radiation was second best. There was one person who knew gamma radiation better than anyone else: Bruce Banner. And you were reading everything he wrote, all his papers, his dissertations and books. Everything. After all your thesis depended on it.

Your name is Lizbeth Vasquez, or just Liz or just Beth, But only certain people called you Beth, your mother was one, and when she passed you just preferred Liz, it felt less personal. You were 20, a little young to be in a graduate program and your birthday had just passed. You went to Stanford at age 16, graduated with your Bachelors in Science in Physics and in Biochemistry, just this last spring.

Now you were at at Cal Tech working on your Masters and PHD in Quantum Physics and Biochemistry. Masters will take you 2 years and PHD will take you another 8. So yeah, you'll be in school for another 10 years, but you made a bet with Collin, your best friend in the mathematics and physics program, that you'd do it in 5.

You returned to your lab with coffee in hand. You already had the machinery set up to produce gamma radiation and the gas required to flow into it. You already tested it at a smaller scale. Neon lighting, you run electricity through a tube containing a gas, that gas turns to plasma and a "neon light" is emitted.

Different gases, display different colors. You chose pink.

But you wanted to be sure you read everything before you started experimenting with gamma radiation. After all, Bruce Banner did become the Hulk due to an experiment gone wrong.

When you returned to your lab, Collin was already in there eating leftover takeout. Collin is tall, lanky and redheaded. He was about 5 years older than you, but you enjoyed each others company. He was married to a preschool teacher, which suited him. He always treated you like a little sister. He started out as your peer advisor when you first started, but he enjoys your witty remarks, so he stuck around.

"So what's your thesis on again " taking a bite of left over noodles.

"I already told you, Quantum mechanics; manipulation of particles with radiation." you said taking a sip of your coffee. "and your name is going on the paper as well"

"What? I didn’t do anything" he said

"Well as my peer advisor, you advise me." you joked.

"So when are you going to fire up that thing" he said pointing at the metal contraption sitting in the middle of your lab.

" Not yet. I need to due more research. I'm reading all of Dr. Banner's work first." you answered

"How does It work?"

"So the radiation will come through there" you said pointing at a metal tube near the ceiling, " thought the cylinder with gas, hopefully proving my theory correct. And then surround it, is a Faraday cage, but like a backwards one, keeping everything in. "

Just as you were finishing up explaining your machine, the power went out.

"What the hell?" you groaned.

"Rolling blackouts" Collin said as the backup generator turned back on.

"It's 11am" you argued

"In LA in the Summer, it's already 97 degrees outside, past 100 in some areas."

"But like, global warming isn't real tho" you joked.

Collin laughed, "What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked

"Well If I get through this research, I was thinking of firing this thing up" you said.

"My Thesis presentation is tomorrow at 5pm, please come, and please dress nicely, you know, business casual." he insisted.

"I'm offended" you joked, he wasn’t wrong, your wardrobe mainly consisted of leggings and an oversized Cal-Tech sweater.

"Well I've got class. See you tomorrow" he said as he left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You clean up well" Collin said

Your long black wavy hair was straightened and pulled back with headband. You had a blue button up shirt tucked into a black pencil skirt. Honestly, this is what you would wear anyways if you'd actually took off those leggings.

"Except the shoes" he continued looking down at your black Keds.

"You know I don’t own any heel" you whispered.

"Good luck" you smiled and took a seat in the seminar class.

Collin moved towards the front of the class and waiting for people to show up before starting his presentation. You could tell he was nervous, he was after all presenting in front of multiple professors. If approved, he'd finish up his project and graduate in the spring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"When do you find out?" you asked Collin as you two are walking back to your lab

"Sometime next week" he said.

"You didn't Invite Julie?" you added.

"No, she makes me nervous, and she doesn't understand any of it and she's pregnant." he replied.

Your lab is located in the basement of an older building, concrete walls and floors. You get to your lab and start turning on everything. Checking the power supply. Checking everything is connected properly.

You fill up the cylinder with gas and walk over to your control panel. Collin is standing next to you.

"Well,, here goes nothing" you said flipping a switch on your control panel.

"Radiation levels are contained. It seems to be working" you squealed.

Collin patted you on the back. You turned to look and him and back to your machine.

That’s when the power went out.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #Bucky #bucky imagine #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #avengers #avengers fanfiction #bucky barns fanfiction #captain america #iron man

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rainey-staerie-daize · 5 years

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𝒜𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 ℳℯ

Internet alias: Raine Daizie Staer, or just Raine. It may sound completely made up, but "Raine" is actually my legal middle name, and "Staer" is based on my legal last name. And I just like daisies.

Age: 18, born 8 days (one of my faveorite numbers) before Halloween of 2000.

Gender identity: cis female. However, I probably come off as more masculine at times. Sometimes I wonder if I was supposed to be born a male, but oh well. I like being a woman anyway.

Personality type: INTP-T, same as my sister Kat.

Zodiac sign: Scorpio. However, some sites say Libra, since October 23rd is on the cusp (edge) between the two. The Libra horoscope is more accurate than the Scorpio one sometimes, so I guess I'm kinda split in two.

Faveorite color: rich purple or bright blue if I had to pick only one, but I like many colors and aesthetics.

Faveorite pizza place: Domino's

Location: Good ol' United States of America, being ruled by a Cheeto puff with a toupée. I've been in the same Sin City my entire life. I won't tell you my address or anything, but if you're in my area, you might see me without even knowing it.

Class: broke. I had no idea when I was younger, but as I grew older I learned just how much I didn't know about our living situation. We lived in a decent house when I was a child, but I didn't see Disney Channel, Nickelodeon, or Cartoon Network until I was 12 and moved in with a guy who paid for stuff like that to keep his daughter Ashe happy. I grew up off of PBS Kids and leftovers in cottage cheese containers.

Family:

Mom, 37

Dad, 69

Skye-Kat, sister, 13

Bry, half-brother, 10

Xan, half-brother, 5

Kare, half-sister, 3

... Along with a half-sister I've never met (Alex, 36) and Xan and Kare's half-sister that we don't live with any more (Ashe, 16).

Education: I went to 14.5 years of school without being held back. How? I got a year and a half of free preschool for being disabled, which included speech therapy in the middle of the day. I am autistic, and would mostly scream when I was little, so I needed some help. I still got great grades and made great friends throughout elementary school though, to the point where the teacher would tell me to stop talking during class. At one point, I went to Stanford Elementary, so I guess I can say "I went to Stanford" without lying. My elementary experience was split between three different schools though.

Sometime during middle school I think, shit kinda started unraveling. I became a bit less social, my memory is kinda iffy from that point on, and my grades weren't straight anymore. I got my shit together for the most part, but my memory and social skills have remained shoddy at best through to now.

The very fact I went to a high school with the initials D.P. makes me very happy, since Danny Phantom was the very first cartoon I really got into. The fact that there were also pine trees was great too, because of Gravity Falls. Coincidentally, I applied for their animation magnet program before I knew any of this. School there was okay I guess, and I got mostly good grades, but I felt immensely awkward quite a few times. Tried to join clubs only to either not enjoy them or for them to disband. Was never that great at sports, but joined a dance class junior year. Hated English essays with a passion. Tried to make friends and hold onto the ones from middle school, but after nobody I invited came to my sweet 16, I'm pretty much "I don't need friends; they disappoint me" and stopped sitting with them at lunch. Their table was too crowded anyway. One of my friends from another school came, but my mom invited her, not me personally.

Despite growing up in what I've heard to be one of the worst school districts in the country, I graduated two months ago wearing a white cap and gown with an Advanced Honors diploma. It's been difficult, what with autism, transportation issues, (unconfirmed) bipolar disorder, and memory issues, but I fucking made it. Class of 2019!

I'll be joining the rebellion in August.

Beliefs: If you ask my parents, they would say I'm Christian. I'm not. I've never set foot in a church except for weddings, and I don't believe half of what the Bible teaches (or what I've heard it says, anyway. I couldn't make it past the first few pages). I go off of what I believe to be the right thing. Will that change depending on new information I receive? Probably. I like to keep an open mind. I consider myself a witch/Wiccan/Pagan, and occasionally reblog stuff from Wiccan/witchy pages. ⛤ Everyone is equal in this universe, whether some people want to believe it or not, and everyone deserves their basic human rights. Just because you don't understand something someone does, doesn't mean you should be absolutely vile to them.

I try to stick to what I believe in, but everyone's got at least a bit of hypocrisy in them, and I'm no exception. I used to scream and act violently towards others when I was upset, and old habits die hard. Only when I'm really pissed at someone though. I mostly just shut down when I'm upset nowadays. Except for in this house I'm currently in apparently.

My controversial opinions:

Pineapple pizza is great. Especially from Domino's with asiago cheese.

That Snapchat update a while back wasn't that bad. In fact, I kinda liked it.

Screw the red ones, I like the yellow Starbursts. In fact, certain cherry-flavored candy makes me feel nauseous, especially Redvines, Twizzlers, and any other kind of licorice.

#about me

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thelastspeecher · 7 years

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Avian Again

Yet another installment in the Phoenix Enchantment AU, something that I have sunk far too much time and effort into, given that I have zero (0) plans to turn it into a legit multichap. This is basically the follow-up to this ficlet, in which Ford and Fiddleford find out who the phoenixes Prometheus and Pele really are. This particular ficlet right here takes place the day after Angie and Stan have reverted to phoenix form again, and are still trying to get things arranged for themselves and Molly. Enjoy.

“Tate’s been dropped off at daycare,” Ford said, walking into the living room, holding a bag from the game store. “So, we can figure out a method of communication that doesn’t involve hundreds of dollars’ worth of damage.” Ford looked meaningfully at Stan. Stan, who was on the seat of the armchair, ruffled his feathers and squawked. “By the way, Stan, why aren’t you standing on the arms of the chair? Or the back? Those seem like better locations to perch.” Stan looked at Ford and lifted his wing, revealing Molly huddled close to him. “…You like sitting there because it’s more comfortable for Molly?” Stan nodded. “Fair enough.”

“Stop arguin’ with Stan and come over here,” Fiddleford said. He was at the table with Angie, scanning a book on bird training. Angie turned the page with her beak. “Thank you, Banjey.” Fiddleford scratched the crown of Angie’s head. She trilled happily. Ford walked to the table. He frowned.

“I thought Stan and Angie refused to be treated like pets.”

“Yes, but I thought this book might have tips fer teachin’ birds how to talk. Since the phoenixes are sort of like parrots, the idea was that they might be able to talk like ‘em.” Fiddleford sighed. “But it’s just sayin’ things that don’t work fer sentient birds like Stan ‘n Angie.” Angie cawed at him. “Yeah, if you could talk, ya prob’ly would’ve done it by now.”

“I swear, it seems like you understand them,” Ford said, taking a seat next to Fiddleford. Fiddleford shrugged.

“I’m good at readin’ bird body language. And I’ve known my sister her whole life.” Angie cooed. Fiddleford smiled warmly at her.

“Talking is out, but what about the other methods we discussed?” Ford asked. Angie walked over to a piece of paper, picked it up in her beak, and brought it over to Ford. “Oh. Thank you.” Angie ruffled her feathers happily. “You and Stan are clearly excited about being treated properly again.” Stan let out a loud crow.

“As you can see, the method with usin’ a pen ‘n paper didn’t work out too well,” Fiddleford said. Ford squinted at the piece of paper.

“I can make out…cricket, Molly, daisy, and some swears. And is that part of the word ‘cinnamon’?”

“Angie gave up ‘fore she could finish writin’ it, ‘cause Miss Molly needed to be fed. You can prob’ly guess who wrote what.”

“It’s quite obvious.” Ford sighed. “But the penmanship is horrific.”

“And it took ‘em ‘bout fifteen minutes per word. In an emergency, writin’ words won’t work. Did ya get the other thing we thought of?”

“Yes.” Ford took a Scrabble board out of his bag. He placed it on the table. Angie squawked loudly. “Be patient.” As Fiddleford got the pieces out, Ford looked over at Stan. “Stan’s enjoying television privileges.”

“So’s Molly. I set Molly on the table with Angie at first, but she wanted her dad. Wouldn’t stop her adorable screamin’.” Angie clacked her beak. “I know her screeches ain’t adorable, I’m just bein’ nice. Anyways, I brought her over to Stan, and right away she snuggled up next to him. Stan tried to change the channel a lil bit ago, but she weren’t havin’ it.”

“That explains why he’s watching Animal Planet instead of football.”

“Here ya go, Angie,” Fiddleford said, dumping the bag of Scrabble pieces onto the table. “Go ahead, tell us somethin’.” Angie cocked her head at the tiles for a few seconds, thinking. She nodded and began to pick them up with her beak.

“By the way, you never told me how the conversation with your parents went, after I broke the news about the enchantment being permanent,” Ford said to Fiddleford.

“It went all right. Some more scoldin’ ‘bout not recognizin’ Stan ‘n Angie, questions about the setup fer the phoenixes, and when they should visit.”

“Uh, visit?”

“They’re insistin’ on it. Angie and I were tryin’ to figure things out earlier. Maybe we should throw a belated baby shower of sorts fer Molly, on the next full moon. That way everyone can see Stan ‘n Angie ‘n Molly in human form.” Angie squawked. Fiddleford and Ford looked down. Angie took a step away from her message.

“‘Mating season’,” Ford read out loud. He frowned at Angie. “What are you getting at?” Angie huffed. She nudged a few tiles around. “‘When’. But without an H and the W is an upside-down M.” Angie hissed at him.

“It got the message across, Stanford, don’t be so judgmental,” Fiddleford scolded. “She wants to know when the next matin’ season ‘ll be.”

“Um, I’m not sure. The bestiary said it starts in March, but didn’t explain whether it’s an annual occurrence. The best way to determine when mating season will be is probably by keeping an eye on Stan.” Angie cocked her head. “He lost his extravagant tail shortly after Molly was laid. It takes a while to grow a tail that long and ostentatious. When his tail starts getting larger, that will indicate another mating season approaching. His tail is still rather short, so I doubt there will be one this coming March.” Angie nodded. She paused for a moment, then began to move the Scrabble tiles again.

“So, is your entire family going to visit?” Ford asked Fiddleford. Fiddleford nodded. “How many of them know the true situation?”

“All of ‘em. Well, all my siblin’s and my parents.”

“Fantastic,” Ford muttered. He rubbed at the scar on his hand. “Your brothers will want me hanged, drawn, and quartered after what I put Angie and Molly through.” Stan squawked. “Yes, I put you through difficult things as well, Stanley. But I think Lute would reserve most of his righteous fury for protecting his niece and younger sister.” Stan cawed in agreement. Angie nudged at Ford’s hand. He looked down at her message. “‘Molly ID’.” He frowned. “What?” Angie turned to Fiddleford.

“Sorry, sis, I don’t know what yer gettin’ at, neither,” Fiddleford said. Angie rolled her eyes and moved a few more tiles. “C…E…R…T…” Fiddleford read out loud. “I don’t know what that means.” Angie cawed loudly at him, frustrated. “Angie, use the tiles. We don’t speak bird.” Angie looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry. I know yer tryin’ yer best. This can’t be easy fer ya.”

“Here.” Ford grabbed a handful of tiles and placed them in front of Angie. She began to busily sort through them. Ford and Fiddleford watched. “B…I…R…T…H. Birth?” Angie nodded eagerly. “Birth cert- birth certificate?” Angie hopped up and down. Fiddleford chuckled.

“Yer too dang adorable,” Fiddleford said. Angie clacked her beak at him. “Yer wonderin’ ‘bout Molly’s identification? She hatched from an egg, she don’t have a birth certificate. Or a social security number.” Angie nudged three tiles together. “‘Get’. You want us to get identification for Molly?” Angie nodded.

“Why?” Ford asked. Angie looked over at the tiles and huffed impatiently. She flew away from the table. “What’s going on?” There was a clatter in the kitchen. Ford began to get up, but Angie landed on the table again, a piece of paper in her beak. She dropped it in front of Fiddleford. Fiddleford frowned.

“This is the flyer fer the open house at Tate’s preschool.” Angie tapped the paper with one of her talons. “Yer pointin’ at the word ‘school’?” Angie nodded. “…Oh.” Fiddleford leaned back. “You want Molly to go to school.”

“But she’s a bird,” Ford said slowly. Angie hissed. “You can be angry with me if you want, that doesn’t change her species.” Angie deflated and let out a small, defeated croak. “She can be homeschooled. Between the four of us, she’d get an excellent education.” Angie cooed softly. Stan abruptly took flight from the armchair and landed next to Angie. He nuzzled her. A small tear traced its way down Angie’s face. Ford looked at Fiddleford nervously. “She’s crying. I didn’t know she was that upset. What- what do-” Fiddleford reached forward and wiped the tear away.

“Ya don’t want to homeschool Molly?” he asked gently. Angie and Stan both shook their heads. “Stanford’s right, y’know. She’d learn a lot from us.” Angie croaked. Fiddleford sighed. “I- I still can’t understand ya.” Stan walked over to the Scrabble tiles and moved them around. Angie glanced back at the armchair, where Molly was still crouched, her eyes glued to the television. “‘Deserves better’,” Fiddleford said in a low tone, reading Stan’s message.

“Molly deserves better than what?” Ford asked. Stan moved a few more tiles. “‘Bird’. Oh. Oh, dear.” Ford swallowed. “Molly deserves better than to be a bird?” Stan nodded. “You two want Molly to have more opportunities than a bird gets.” Stan and Angie nodded silently. “I- I don’t know how much we can control that. So far, it seems like she’ll only be able to turn human when you do, during a full moon. If that’s the case, I doubt she can go to school.” Angie let out a loud, despairing screech. Ford and Fiddleford winced at the noise. Fiddleford stroked Angie’s back in a reassuring manner.

“I know ya want yer baby to have a good life,” Fiddleford said. “And we’ll do everything we can to help that happen. She’s our niece, after all. We love her, too. But I think- I think yer goin’ to have to accept that she might not get to do all the things ya want fer her.” Stan croaked quietly at Angie. She sighed and chirped a short response. “I’m not sure what ya just said to each other.” Angie ruffled her feathers. “How about this? We wait ‘fore we make any big decisions. By the time Molly’s old enough to go to school, things might’ve changed.” Stan and Angie nodded. “I’m sorry that things ‘re so difficult fer-” Stan cawed loudly. “What?” Stan pointed a talon at Angie’s “Molly ID” message. “Yes, we’ll try to get some identification fer Miss Molly.” Stan bobbed his head.

“I’m not sure how to go about doing that,” Ford mumbled. Angie grabbed Ford’s wallet, which he had placed on the table. “Hey!” She opened it and tugged a picture out with her beak. “Angie, be careful! That’s a picture of Tate, shortly after he was born.” Angie cocked her head at him meaningfully. “What?” Angie pointed at the tiles reading “ID”, then at the picture of Tate. “Tate’s identification?”

“Tate’s identification wasn’t as simple as it could’ve been, since he wasn’t born in a hospital,” Fiddleford said. “He was a home birth.”

“You want us to claim Molly was a home birth, as well?” Ford asked. Angie nodded. “Oh. That’s easy enough to do.” Stan cawed. Angie frowned at her mate and hissed softly. Stan merely chuckled in response. “Wait, did Stan say something that was in poor taste?” Angie nudged a tile with a Y on it. “I assume that means yes.” A loud screech began to emit from the armchair. Stan squawked in distress and flew back to Molly. Once she was comfortably nestled under Stan’s wing again, Molly became quiet.

“That lil girl of yours is keepin’ ya on yer toes, huh?” Fiddleford said. “Or should I say talons?” Angie rolled her eyes. “Are ya done usin’ the tiles?” Angie sighed. She moved a few tiles around. “‘Hard’.” Fiddleford ran a hand through his hair. “Yep, this is still pretty difficult. It’s better ‘n nothin’, though.” Angie shrugged. “I think Ford said somethin’ the other day ‘bout workin’ on some way fer us to understand ya in bird form. Verbally.” Angie’s eyes widened. She chirped inquisitively at Ford.

“I’m still in the brainstorming phase, unfortunately,” Ford said. Angie moved some of the tiles. “‘Watch’. You want to watch me work?” He waited patiently for Angie to respond. “‘Bored’?” Angie nodded. “I can imagine that being stuck in the nest with Molly 24/7 would be rather boring. Particularly given that you were brooding her for so long without any outside form of intellectual stimulation.” Stan crowed. Angie let out a burbling laugh. “Was Stan insulting my manner of speech?” Angie nodded.

“I don’t see why ya couldn’t sit in on some of Ford’s lab work,” Fiddleford said. Angie ruffled her feathers eagerly. “And maybe we can try to find some books or magazines to bring up to the attic. Somethin’ a bit more interestin’ ‘n the ropes ‘n mirrors we have up there right now.” Angie looked at Stan and cawed. “…I certainly hope that ya were just teasin’ Stan fer usin’ the bird toys.” Angie nodded, chuckling. Stan squawked in dismay.

“We recorded the three of you up until five days ago, Stanley,” Ford said. “We know full well that you like to play with your own reflection in that mirror toy.” Stan squawked again.

“Aw, no need to be upset,” Fiddleford said. “It weren’t like there was anything else fer ya to do. It’s only worth teasin’ ya over if ya do it after gettin’ some activities what better suit humans.” Stan was silent. Angie sidled over to Fiddleford and chirped quietly at him, then laughed uproariously.

“I wish I’d understood that,” Ford muttered. “Apparently it was hilarious.”

#lmaooo I made a post asking if y'all wanted to see it and in under a minute the post got five notes #I love that actually. I love that you all enjoy my nonsense so much <3 #I've been sitting on this ficlet for a while but I didn't like it enough to post it #now that I've cleaned it up tho I'm really proud of it #the adults trying to communicate despite the species-language barrier #and Stangie telling Fidds and Ford about how they want their daughter to have a good life #some good feels and...opposite of feels in this ficlet imo #Phoenix Enchantment AU #Angie McGucket #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Molly Pines #Stangie Family #ficlet #my writing #speecher speaks

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liliannorman · 5 years

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New success in treating allergies to peanuts and other foods

Ten years ago at a kindergarten party, Isaac Judy took a bite of a peanut-butter cookie. It tasted weird to him, so he spit it out. Hives soon appeared on his face. His lips also began to swell. When his dad came to pick him up, Isaac was coughing and wheezing. Riding in the car to the other side of St. Louis, Mo., where they lived, Isaac fell asleep — or so it seemed.

When Isaac’s mother saw what was happening, she suspected something more serious. “He hadn’t fallen asleep. He lost consciousness,” Jaelithe Judy explains. After a trip to the emergency room, her five-year-old recovered. But doctors confirmed her hunch: Isaac has a peanut allergy.

Just a few generations ago, hardly anyone talked about food allergies. But over the past two decades, childhood food allergies in the United States have more than doubled. A little more than a year ago, a study in Pediatrics reported that 7.6 percent of U.S. kids under age 18 have food allergies. That’s almost 8 million youth — about two students per classroom. And it’s much more than a childhood issue. Surprisingly, a study last year in JAMA Network Open found that nearly 11 percent of adults have food allergies, too. More than one in every four of them said they had not been allergic to foods as children.

There has been a sharp increase in the share of U.S. children with food allergies in the past two decades.Data from R.S. Gupta et al/2018 and the CDC

These days nearly everyone has “come across a family member or person who has been touched by food allergies, or has one themselves,” says Tamara Hubbard. She works in the suburbs of Chicago, Ill., as a licensed counselor. Hubbard and a growing number of counselors are helping families through the stress of managing food allergies.

For years, doctors have told families there’s nothing they can do but avoid the trigger food — or inject a fast-acting medication called epinephrine (Ep-ih-NEF-rinn) to stop a severe reaction. But researchers are learning more about why some people overreact to certain foods. And new treatments are emerging. Late last month, the first treatment for peanut allergy earned approval from the U.S. Food and Drug Administration. Another could do so within a year or so. Scientists also are continuing to develop and test other ways to treat food allergies.

Immunity run amok

Allergic reactions occur when the immune system overreacts. Normally immune cells help fight bacteria, viruses and other pathogens. Yet some people’s immune systems also react to harmless stuff like pollen or mold — or peanuts, milk or other foods.

Such run-ins trigger a release of histamine (HIS-tuh-meen) and other chemicals. These molecules “get the ball rolling for an allergic reaction,” explains Tina Sindher. She works as an allergist at Stanford University School of Medicine in Palo Alto, Calif.

During an allergic reaction, someone may get itchy and develop hives. If the reaction worsens, the person might cough, wheeze and suffer a whole-body reaction known as anaphylaxis (An-uh-fuh-LAX-iss). That’s what happened to Isaac — and to Shea Tritt’s son, Gaines, in Abingdon, Va.

Gaines’ peanut allergy surfaced in the fall of 2012. At the time, he was a baby and his diagnosis put the whole family on edge. For the next few years “he never trick-or-treated. He never went to a birthday party. I was scared to put him in preschool,” says Tritt. “My husband and I had a lot of stress because he could tell I wasn’t letting Gaines do normal things. So we would argue.”

Even Gaines’ older sister got nervous. If she went to a party, she worried about bringing back traces of peanut-containing treats that might sicken her brother, Tritt recalls. Living in such constant vigilance can be emotionally draining for families with food allergies.

Anxious and desperate, Tritt wondered if her son would outgrow his allergies, and how she could ever find out. “I became obsessed with information — anything I could do to get us out of this situation,” she says.

When a kiss can make you sick

Silly greeting cards often depict a kiss on the cheek of a cartoon figure as a big red imprint of lips. For people with a serious food allergy, real kisses sometimes leave the same mark. But it’s not funny. That red wheal signals an allergic hypersensitivity to food residues on the smoocher’s mouth.

One renowned study at the University of California, Davis School of Medicine surveyed 379 people with especially severe allergies to peanuts, tree nuts or seeds. Twenty had experienced hives or other symptoms after a kiss. In all but one case, the kisser had eaten nuts up to 6 hours earlier; at least four had first brushed their teeth.

Most reactions proved mild. But five people developed wheezing or flushing with light-headedness — potentially dangerous signs. And one three-year old was rushed to the hospital to treat respiratory distress after his mother pecked him on the cheek. — Janet Raloff

One day, Tritt saw a TV interview with David Stukus. He’s an allergist at Nationwide Children’s Hospital in Columbus, Ohio. Stukus saw that many patients with food allergy are fearful. They often are confused because they’re not getting the facts they need. So Stukus opened a Twitter account to spread evidence-based information. Tritt took note.

Looking at her son’s blood-test results, year after year, Tritt suspected his immune response to peanuts was lessening. However, blood tests cannot give a clear “yes” or “no.” These tests detect specialized immune proteins. They are called IgE antibodies. These molecules trigger allergic reactions. But IgE levels only indicate that someone is sensitive to a certain food. They cannot predict whether that person will react if they eat it. Proving Gaines had outgrown his peanut allergy would require an oral food challenge. And that would require that the patient eat increasing amounts of the food while a doctor watches for allergic reactions.

Trouble is, Tritt could not find a local allergist to perform the food challenge. This procedure needs extra time and staff. It also runs a risk of triggering anaphylaxis. So, many clinics won’t offer it unless a patient’s blood results are low — low enough to suggest they would tolerate the food. Gaines’ numbers had steadily dropped over the years but were still a tad too high.

Peanuts: Becoming bite-proof

For about half of people with peanut allergies, “a bite or two of the wrong food typically contains enough peanut protein to trigger a reaction,” notes Brian Vickery. He is a pediatric allergist at Emory University in Atlanta, Ga. For these people, he says, 100 milligrams (0.004 ounce) of peanut protein, or about one-third of a peanut kernel, can set off such a reaction.

Vickery used to work at Aimmune Therapeutics. This California company is developing a treatment for peanut allergy. It is called oral immunotherapy, or OIT for short. The procedure involves each day eating a wee bit of peanut protein — pre-measured into capsules. The capsule dose goes up every few weeks over a period of months. If the treatment works, it can raise the immune system’s threshold for the food. That means it would take more of the food to trigger an allergic reaction. In other words, it’s possible for the person to become “bite-proof.”

Aimmune tested its capsules — or a dummy version called a placebo — in 551 children and teens with peanut allergies. The starting dose was half a milligram (0.00002 ounce) of peanut protein. (One peanut contains 600 times that much.) Over a six-month period, the daily dose went up to 300 milligrams (0.01 ounce), or about one peanut’s worth. And each day for six more months, participants had to continue eating that much.

During the study, many participants experienced allergic reactions to the peanut pills. Forty-five quit because of these unpleasant symptoms. But among those who finished the study, two-thirds of the treated group became bite-proof. After about a year, they could safely eat roughly two peanuts. “They’re still careful about avoiding peanuts,” says Vickery. “But it provides that additional margin of safety.”

Those results appeared in the November 2018 New England Journal of Medicine.

Based on these and other findings, the FDA approved those peanut capsules on January 31.

Similar work underway

Over the past decade and prior to the FDA approval, a small number of allergists had already started offering OIT using store-bought foods. Tritt found one such clinic several hours away. However, that clinic was not willing to give her son a peanut challenge to confirm whether he still was allergic.

Tritt didn’t want to sign her son up for a long, costly treatment if he might in fact be outgrowing his allergy. But they couldn’t know for sure without the gold-standard test, that oral food challenge.

Blood tests can indicate if someone has specialized proteins that sensitize their immune system to a given food. However, these tests cannot predict if someone will actually develop an allergic reaction to that food.jarun011/iStock/Getty Images Plus

She discussed her dilemma with Stukus on Twitter. Reviewing Gaines’ blood-test results, Stukus agreed to conduct the food challenge. Just before Gaines started kindergarten, his family travelled from Virginia to the doctor’s clinic in Ohio. It was a nine-hour drive.

Gaines started the challenge with a “small, laughable amount” of peanut butter, Tritt recalls. Fifteen minutes later, he ate a bit more. Then some more. Over several hours he chomped a dozen Reese’s peanut butter cups. And he never reacted.

The test proved Gaines had outgrown his allergy. That makes him one of the lucky few. Many children outgrow some food allergies by the time they enter school. But eight out of every 10 kids with allergies to peanuts or tree nuts will remain allergic.

Freedom and failure

Gian Lagemann, a high school senior in Saratoga, Calif., is allergic to 11 kinds of nuts, including peanuts (which actually is not a nut; it’s a legume). When he started kindergarten, his mother brought “no nuts allowed” signs to the classroom. She asked other parents to tell her whenever they brought in food — so she could make sure it was safe for Gian. Every day Gian ate his lunch at a designated peanut-free table.

Several years ago, Gian’s mom told her son about a peanut OIT trial. The study was starting nearby at Stanford University. “For most of my life, I haven’t been able to eat things where the ingredient labels say ‘may contain peanuts’ or ‘processed in a facility with peanuts,’” Gian says. “Once she explained that [after the trial] I’d be able to eat those foods, I was pretty happy. I was sold.”

Thanks to an experimental peanut-allergy treatment called oral immunotherapy, high-school student Gian Lagemann can now dig into M&Ms. It’s something he previously had to avoid because its label notes that it “may contain peanuts.”Luci Lagemann

At the start of the trial, his family bought a bag of peanut flour. For about six months, Gian took his dose each day after dinner. He doesn’t like the taste of peanuts. So he often mixed his dose into a spoonful of chocolate ice cream. The dose started at 1.3 milligrams of peanut protein (about 1/200th the amount in a peanut). Over the six-month trial it went up to 240 milligrams (0.008 ounce, or a little less than one peanut’s worth).

More broadly, some 8,000 U.S. patients have tried such an oral therapy. Typically, about one in five will withdraw because of side effects or anxiety. Completing such a trial takes focus and discipline — like playing sports. But, Gian recalls, “They told us with every dose we took, our body was just going to get stronger.”

Participants also learned to expect some allergic reactions. “If you’re going to build your immune muscle against a food allergy, you know you’re going to have a little ‘ache’ during the process,” says Kari Nadeau. This Stanford allergist was a leader of the trial.

Gian felt a few such responses during the study. “My throat would feel a little tight for 15 minutes,” he says. “But after that, it was fine.” So he persevered. And it paid off. When the trial ended, he could eat a full peanut without having an allergic reaction. That means Gian now can safely eat candy with labels warning they’re made in facilities that process nuts. “I was able to try Kit Kats for the first time, and Milky Ways,” Gian says.

Two years ago, Isaac also tried this oral peanut therapy. At the time, he was 13. But his experiences were quite different. During the treatment he suffered sinus and gastrointestinal troubles. He also had an anaphylactic reaction. Six months in, Isaac dropped out. He quit because he had developed an immune condition called eosinophilic esophagitis (Ee-oh-sin-oh-FILL-ick Ee-SOF-uh-JY-tis). The oral therapy triggers it in a small share of people.

And there’s something else to keep in mind: People could lose their desensitization to peanut once they end the oral therapy. That finding was confirmed in a 2019 study by Nadeau’s team. For many people, effective treatment might have to continue long-term.

Other treatments

Some people have taken part in research trials testing a different treatment for peanut allergy — a skin patch. Instead of eating bits of peanut by mouth, patients every day stick a coin-sized disc onto their back or upper arm. Each disc contains a quarter-milligram of peanut protein. That’s about a thousandth as much as what’s in a peanut. (By comparison, Aimmune’s capsules start with twice that much. Over months, patients then take doses that increase to 1, 10, 20, 100 and 300 milligrams.) From the patch, peanut proteins seep through the skin but do not enter the blood. Peanut patches are therefore less likely to cause anaphylaxis than is the oral therapy.

DBV Technologies in France makes the patch. This company conducted a year-long trial of its product in 356 children with peanut allergies. Nine in every 10 participants finished the trial. The most common side effect was a skin rash at the patch site. However, this trial didn’t work as well as the company had hoped. By the end of the study, only a little more than one in every three patients treated could safely eat the “exit dose” of one to three peanuts. The study leaders reported their findings in the March 12, 2019 Journal of the American Medical Association.

Still, the patch has worked wonders for some. In 2012, Sharon Wong was desperate. Her son’s allergies to peanuts and tree nuts had intensified to an alarming degree. Once during a shopping trip, he went into a coughing fit while walking past a batch of freshly baked walnut cookies. At a restaurant buffet, he started vomiting after merely looking at a steamy tray of pesto pasta. (Pesto is made with pine nuts.)

“It was really awful,” recalls Wong. “We cannot control the air he breathes. But we didn’t want to keep him confined at home. We wanted him to be able to go shopping, to go down the street, to go to friends’ homes and not stress about his allergies.”

That year she enrolled her son, then nine years old, in an earlier-stage peanut patch trial in the San Francisco Bay area of California. At first, it took just 1/240th of a peanut to trigger an allergic reaction. After two years on the patch, he could tolerate about six peanuts.

Egg is one of the most common food allergies in children. Research shows that more than two-thirds of kids will outgrow their egg allergy by age 16.denizya/iStock/Getty Images Plus

“We feel more comfortable about traveling longer distances and dining in restaurants with precautions in place,” Wong wrote in a blog about the patch trial. “Each mini-success gives us confidence and improves our quality of life. My son is happier and healthier.”

In August, the FDA plans to review data on the peanut patch and recommend if it should be approved. DBV Technologies is also researching and developing patches to treat milk and egg allergies. And as for oral therapies, Aimmune recently started a new trial for its egg-allergy treatment. The company is also developing an oral therapy for walnut allergy.

Scientists are studying other related approaches, too. One is an immune therapy that uses liquid droplets containing allergens. These are placed under the tongue rather than swallowed directly. Edwin Kim, an allergist at the University of North Carolina School of Medicine, in Chapel Hill, led one study of children treated for three to five years with this sublingual therapy. All had peanut allergies. Of the 37 kids who completed the study, two in every three could now consume 750 milligrams (0.03 ounce) or more of the peanut allergen. Kim, whose center has helped conduct studies for DBV and Aimmune (among other companies), reported the findings last November in the Journal of Allergy and Clinical Immunology.

Additional experimental treatments block other parts of the immune response to allergens. Some act together with oral therapy, allowing fewer allergic reactions during therapy. Others supply helpful gut microbes that seem to guard against food allergies. And one company is developing a toothpaste to treat peanut allergy.

In the end, each family must decide whether to seek an emerging treatment or stick with just avoiding exposure to the sensitizing foods. Treatments require diligence. They’re not yet widely available. And they don’t always work. But if the allergy is unbearable, trying a new treatment might prove worth the time and risk. Clearly, concludes Stukus, the Ohio doctor, “food-allergy management is not one-size-fits-all.”

New success in treating allergies to peanuts and other foods published first on https://triviaqaweb.tumblr.com/

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hekate1308 · 7 years

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The Baggage We Carry, Chapter One

Read it on AO3.

Dean Winchester knew exactly what was expected of him: Grow up popular, take over his father's garage, find a nice girl to marry and settle down with, and he never entertained any hope that his life could turn out different. The new weird guy in his high school changed all that. High School!AU, Destiel.

John and Mary Winchester had known what they wanted early in life. They had fallen in love while they were still young, and their aspirations had soon been fulfilled: John had opened the garage he had dreamed of since before his service, and soon enough, their first child had been born.

Not long afterwards, they moved into their first house.

Dean Winchester had been a perfect baby, never fussing too much, happily eating his fill, soon sleeping through the night.

He grew into the most adorable toddler in the neighbourhood, his big heart shining through even when he was only four years old and consoled his mother after she and John had had a fight and he’d gone to live in a motel for a few days.

He was also interested in cars from the day he could walk; and by the time he went to preschool, John proudly told his wife “He’ll take over the shop one day”.

Mary just smiled and thought that it would be a fine thing for her son to be set early in life.

Dean turned out to be an enthusiastic big brother too; more than once, he’d woken up and slipped into the nursery at night before John and Mary could get to baby Sammy.

His brother turned out to be different, however.

Sam, from the first, insisted on being “smart and grown up”. They didn’t pay too much attention at the time, since he had just turned two; but over the years, they learned that for Sam, books were indeed very important; he loved school in a way Dean never had; and he’d barely turned ten before he’d decided that he would one day study law, and at Stanford.

It had been a good idea of John’s to open up a saving account for Sam’s education as soon as he had been born. Dean, after all, had a job and a garage waiting for him; Sam would have to make his own way into the world, and his parents were determined to give him the best start he could get.

The only thing they missed in their careful planning for their children’s future was that their elder son was growing decidedly unhappier with their plans as the years passed.

Dean liked cars, he knew that.

What he didn’t know was why he slowly came to look at the garage with dread. He liked fixing things, he liked making cars work again, he liked making Dad proud; surely he should also like the thought of taking over one day?

And yet, thinking of the decades that were to come, he sitting in the shop while Sam was out there, seeing the world –

Even when he was twelve he felt like he was suffocating imagining the future.

There was no one he could talk to about it. His parents would have just told him that he was being silly, that he should be glad he was being provided for, and that he’d like it once he was working at the shop.

And Sammy...

Dean loved his brother, he really did. But too often it felt like he’d already imbibed too much of their parents’ views.

“Should I read the Knights of the Round Table to you again?”

“Nah, it’s okay, Mom says I’m better at reading than you were at my age anyway”.

“Really, I can stay, we could play...”

“Please, there’s a game going on. I know how much you like baseball.”

“What are you doing in history?”

“It’s alright Dean, you don’t have to pretend to be interested”.

The older he got, the more he thought that pretending was all he did. That he was actually happy with his future, that he wouldn’t mind Sammy moving away to be a lawyer, that he was super interested in sports and cars and not so much in books and school.

It was annoying because science was actually pretty night, and science fictions was awesome. He discovered Vonnegut around his twelfth birthday, and even though he didn’t get some stuff, the nice lady at the library, a Mrs. Singer, was always ready to help him out when he didn’t know a word or a paragraph became too difficult. Soon, she was also bringing him a slice of awesome pie now and then, even though eating was forbidden in the library, but she made an exception for him.

Dean never figured out how her husband and Dad ended up being friends all of a sudden, nor did he understand until much later why Mr. and Mrs. Singer sometimes looked sad when they saw him, or why they never talked about the library in front of his parents.

He just knew he was relieved because he didn’t want to be made fun off for liking books.

Mr. and Mrs. Singer were really nice to him, but they weren’t his friends. He didn’t have any real ones. He made those he was expected to make, and there were sleepovers and birthday party, but no one to talk to.

He made his first real friend when he was thirteen.

Fergus Crowley (although no one dared even attempt to call him by his first name after he dealt with Gordon for doing exactly that) had just moved into town with his mother, a woman who was quickly gaining an... interesting reputation.

He was the only teenager who invariably wore a suit to school and managed to excel in his classes despite seemingly never attending them. Now and then, he was seen smoking something by the bleachers.

Dean knew better than to approach him. His parents would probably have killed him for it.

It was Crowley who came to him.

He’d hidden himself away in an empty classroom during a break and was reading Vonnegut. He’d become tired of acting like the dumb jock everyone expected him to be for the day.

“You’re different” someone said.

He looked up to find Crowley, so suddenly that he could have sworn he’d materialized in front of him.

“What?” he asked dumbly.

Crowley rolled his eyes, fishing a cigarette out of his pocket.

“Please. Don’t pretend. You’re not half as dim-witted as you want people to believe. You’re not that interested in sports either, and you like academia when presented interestingly. Like I said, you’re different”.

Dean had no idea how he knew all of that since he was never in their classes.

“What do you want?”

“To talk to someone else who knows what’s up in this goddamn place”.

“And what – “

“Everyone’s pretending but we’re the two lucky bastards who are aware of it”.

They were off to a strange start, but over time Dean came to value their friendship.

They always met in places people didn’t expect them to be, abandoned hallways, or by the bleachers, or at the library. Mrs. Singer was the only adult Dean knew who liked Crowley, even sometimes looked at him with something like pity in her eyes.

They didn’t talk about that friendship in front of their parents either.

Dean was sure they wouldn’t have approved anyway.

Crowley was pretty weird.

“I hate this town” he said one day. They’d camped at another empty class room for lunch.

“Why did your mother move you here anyway?” Dean asked.

“Because I got kicked out of my last three schools”.

“Do I want to know why?”

Crowley only grinned at him in an unsettling manner.

“Your own fault you’re stuck here, then” Dean said, taking the cigarette out of his fingers to take a drag.

He only did it now and then, so he figured no one would notice.

“I won’t be here forever, darling, I can promise you that”.

He’ll either end up on death row or in the White House, Dean thought suddenly, and I’ll still be here and I’ll watch the news and know he’s the only real friend I ever made, and maybe I’ll be too numb to feel a thing by then.

“I don’t want to take over the garage” he said to get rid of the lump in his throat.

He’d never said it out loud before, and the relief was almost overwhelming.

“I’m sure Mummy and Daddy dearest are thrilled”.

Man, it was so strange that Crowley had kept his British accent from his mother even though he’d been born and bred in America.

“I can’t tell them. They’re so happy”.

“And you’re happy that they’re happy and bla bla bla” Crowley said, stumping out his cigarette.

“Like I said, we’re the only ones here who get it is a goddamn game, and I don’t want to be on the losing side.”

Dean didn’t tell him that he was sure he’d lost before he even knew he was playing.

Time passed.

Sometimes, he thought his meetings with Crowley were all that kept him sane, especially when he realized that he’d begin to notice other boys in the same way he noticed girls.

It wasn’t his fault he was constantly seeing cute guys in the locker room of the wrestling team he’d joined, right?

He tried to mention it at dinner once.

“There’s this guy on my wrestling team...” he began slowly, thinking of Aaron Bass. Kind of shy, but cute. And he thought he might like Dean, too.

Dad chuckled.

“He annoying you, son? Stealing your girls?”

Dean sometimes wondered why it was so important to him that he grew up a ladies’ man. He was only fifteen. There was no need to go on any dates yet.

“No, quite the opposite. I like him” he said helplessly, hoping that this would be enough to convey what he was feeling.

Sam sniggered.

“Dean’s got a crush!”

“Sam” Dad admonished him, “don’t be silly”.

“It’s nice you’re making friends on the team already, Dean” Mom said and, even as Sam was shooting him apologetic glances, Dean understand.

It was another part of him that was supposed to be hidden, kept secret, unnoticed.

As an answer, he started to fool around with Crowley.

It wasn’t really planned or anything. It just figured to tell him the truth, since he was the only one who could know.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Aaron Bass? Really? Would have thought muscular guys were more you type. Like Gordon”.

Dean grimaced.

“Come on, he’s dumb”.

“Ah, so it’s brains you go after”.

Dean shrugged.

“You know” Crowley said, “If it’s experience you’re after...”

Dean didn’t really know how that led to them making out, but it felt good. Comfortable. Like he could be himself.

He took girls on dates eventually, after he’d turned fifteen. Dad had started asking if there was anyone he’d like to tell his parents about, and he couldn’t tell them the truth anyway, so he might as well date.

Some of the dates were even pleasant.

And yeah, he liked making out with girls too.

Dad laughed and clasped his shoulder every time he returned from another date, and Mom looked on benignly.

Sam was the only one to object, and it was because “playing girls isn’t nice”.

He never played anyone. He never let any of them believe he was in love.

Cassie was one of the few who got him.

“You’re not really into me, right? You’re into the idea of being into me”.

There was nothing he could say.

A shame. He’d actually liked her quite well.

Lisa was different.

“We’re better off as friends, aren’t we” she said resignedly.

He understood her frustration. They could easily have been the new it couple of the school.

He’d have had to give up a lot of his free time though, Crowley, the library, anything that made him feel alive.

Dean knew that eventually he’d probably have to get married. His parents wanted grandkids.

He would give them what they wanted, of course. He always did.

His little escapes from his daily life... they’d have to end.

Or so he thought, until he was sixteen years old and another boy moved into their town.

#my writings #destiel #high school au #smart!dean #bestie!crowley

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insurancepolicypro · 5 years

Text

Training Prices in India & Globally are Rising

Tanuj simply graduated from the Indian College of Enterprise. His one-year postgraduate programme had set him again by Rs. 35 lakhs[1]. As soon as he went to work, a colleague was an alumnus of ISB, and Tanuj realized his colleague had paid solely Rs. 26 lakhs[2] for his course. The price distinction between 2018-19 and 2015-16 was practically Rs. 9 lakhs or virtually 35% in Three years.

Such will increase in schooling prices will not be a brand new factor. The quickly rising value of levels makes schooling a really expensive affair as of late. The inflation in instructional establishments is among the highest within the nation.

The state of affairs is not any completely different in faculties overseas. Take the USA, for instance. Inflation-adjusted public school charges in 1987-88 have been $Three,190.[3] The corresponding value for the 2017-2018 college 12 months was $9,970[4], representing a 213% enhance. The image is equally stark for personal run faculties (e.g., Stanford) the place charges in 1987-88 have been $15,160 and $34,740[5] in 2017, representing a 129% enhance.

Right here’s a determine which reveals the rise in charges over a time:

It’s not simply greater schooling, it’s preschool and faculty schooling too:

One of many startling info about rising schooling prices is that it’s not solely impacting greater schooling however has percolated right down to even main schooling. In accordance with an ASSOCHAM survey, 65% of the spend greater than 50% of their salaries on college and extracurricular actions.[1]

What does this imply for me?

As mother and father, this means saving to your little one’s schooling is essential. In as of late of rising prices, investing in a toddler schooling plan is one of the best ways to be sure you put aside cash for schooling, and get advantages of compounding. A toddler plan includes paying a sure mounted sum of cash right into a plan which then invests the identical and offers you a return over a interval. The lump sum quantity has advantages of compounding. Relying upon when you’ll need the cash, the kid schooling plan may be tailor-made to mature at completely different closing dates.

Allow us to suppose you want Rs. 20 lakhs for greater schooling, then it’s potential to begin separate kids plan for a similar. Paying charges for education can also be costly in these occasions. To make sure cash earns some return, it may be invested in a second little one schooling plan, that matures halfway throughout education in order that charges for the subsequent few years are taken care of.

A very powerful half right here is that funding in a toddler’s future ought to begin as quickly because the little one is born, and even earlier than the kid is born. Given the rise in class charges and better schooling charges, the quantity required will hold rising 12 months after 12 months. To guard towards this, taking out a number of little one plans with completely different maturities and completely different funding aims can be optimum.

The nearer the kid will get to the time when cash is required, the upper the quantity that may want to be put aside for such little one schooling plans.

Suppose Tanuj, from the instance above, simply acquired married, and he needs to avoid wasting for his little one’s schooling. His little one is just not but born, which supplies him a longer-term horizon to plan for the bills. As a result of inflation related to schooling bills, the quantity he’ll want may even be substantial. He can put money into Three-Four little one plans with completely different maturities and completely different aims. This can guarantee his cash is use and that cash earns returns at market charges. He may encash the insurance policies at completely different occasions, by scheduling completely different maturity dates relying on when the kid will enter college, or enter secondary college, or enter junior school. Utilizing this method will guarantee funds can be found at completely different occasions for various makes use of.

Giving your little one, one of the best schooling is one of the best present, and saving for schooling is among the greatest methods to make sure your cash is put to one of the best use, and your little one can take pleasure in his or her schooling problem free.

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Citations:

[1] http://www.isb.edu/pgp/Charges-Financing/Programme-Bills [2] https://www.business-standard.com/article/specials/isb-hikes-fee-for-its-one-year-management-programme-115072400248_1.html [3] https://www.cnbc.com/2017/11/29/how-much-college-tuition-has-increased-from-1988-to-2018.html [4] https://www.cnbc.com/2017/11/29/how-much-college-tuition-has-increased-from-1988-to-2018.html [5] https://www.cnbc.com/2017/11/29/how-much-college-tuition-has-increased-from-1988-to-2018.html [6]http://www.sakshieducation.com/JobsStory.aspx?nid=41454

Calculate premium to your Time period Plan

from insurancepolicypro http://insurancepolicypro.com/?p=1269

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kctiebell · 7 years

Text

92 truths tag game

tagging: @harrypotthr @madameolympemaxime @tcrtarus @lilypotthr @wiessrose @karkaroff

LAST…

[1] drink: water [2] phone call: my dad [3] text message: one of my best friends [4] song you listened to: can’t handle this right now [kanye rant] - bo burnham [5] time you cried: like a couple weeks ago?

HAVE YOU EVER…

[6] dated someone twice: i haven’t even dated lmao so no [7] been cheated on: read #6 [8] kissed someone and regretted it: never kissed [9] lost someone special: yes [10] been depressed: don’t think so [11] gotten drunk and thrown up: nope

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS…

[12] periwinkle [13] white [14] dusty rose

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU…

[15] made new friends: yep [16] fallen out of love: not to my knowledge [17] laughed until you cried: yep [18] found out someone was talking about you: LMAO YES [19] met someone who changed you: yes [20] found out who your true friends are: i’m not even sure [21] kissed someone on your facebook list: i don’t use Facebook + i haven’t kissed anyone

GENERAL…

[22] how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: don’t use facebook [23] do you have any pets: yes, a dog! [24] do you want to change your name: first name, sometimes [25] what did you do for your last birthday: went out to eat i think [26] what time did you wake up: 9:20 am [27] what were you doing at midnight last night: watching youtube videos [28] name something you cannot wait for: college [29] when was the last time you saw your mother: like an hour ago [30] what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: a different home environment [31] what are you listening to right now: bo burnham [32] have you ever talked to a person named tom: yes [33] something that is getting on your nerves: messiness [34] most visited website: tumblr rip [35] elementary primary: balboa magnet [36] high school secondary: granada hills [37] college university: i have a couple years until college, but it’s my dream to go to stanford university [38] hair colour: dark brown [39] long or short hair: medium [40] do you have a crush on someone: yes [41] what do you like about yourself?: i have good taste + i’m organized as hell [42] piercings: just earrings [43] blood type: idk lol [44] nickname: rach, ranch, rachelle, raquel, ranchie, rachie [45] relationship status: single [46] zodiac sign: scorpio [48] fav tv show: friends [49] tattoos: none [50] right or left handed: right

FIRST…

[51] surgery: never [52] piercing: ears, one at 12, it closed up so i repierced at 14 [53] best friend: my preschool best friend, chloe [54] sport: cross country [55] vacation: china when i was 1 [56] pair of trainers: dunno

RIGHT NOW…

[57] eating: nothing [58] drinking: nothing [59] i’m about to: play piano [60] listening to: bo burnham [61] waiting for: the day i can move out for college [62] want: to move out and go to uni [63] get married: uhhh later [64] career: i have no idea?? dream job vs. realistic job

WHICH IS BETTER…

[65] hugs or kisses: hugs [66] lips or eyes: eyes [67] shorter or taller: taller [68] older or younger: older, i guess? doesn’t matter that much to me [69] romantic or spontaneous: both [70] nice arms or nice stomach: nice stomach [71] sensitive or loud: sensitive [72] hook up or relationship: relationship [73] troublemaker or hesitant: a mixture of both? idk lmao

HAVE YOU EVER…

[74] kissed a stranger?: no [75] drank hard liquor?: no [76] lost glasses/contact lenses?: no [77] turned someone down: yes [78] sex on first date?: no [79] broken someone’s heart?: i hope not [80] had your own heart broken?: not that i remember [81] been arrested?: no [82] cried when someone died?: yes [83] fallen for a friend: lmao yes

DO YOU BELIEVE IN…

[84] yourself? sometimes [85] miracles? sometimes [86] love at first sight? definitely not [87] santa claus? no [88] kiss on the first date? eh [89] angels? yes

OTHER…

[90] current best friends name: can’t pick one [91] eye colour: brown [92] favourite movie: mulan/the princess diaries (i’m a kid at heart)

#about me #long text #textposts #rachel

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amirosebooks · 8 years

Text

Cobbled Together Lifetime

A quote / glimpse of this popped into my head after finishing Charlie’s death episode and it demanded to be written.

Read it on AO3

There was a leather bound photo album tucked between an ancient book of Enochian translations and another book so old the gold lettering on its spine was practically worn away. Mary carefully pulled the photo album from the shelf and took it with her to one of the nearby tables.

The spine creaked with stiffness when she splayed it open. On the first page was a picture of the boys when they were tiny with her and John. Rationally, she knew that the picture was now several decades old, but to her it still felt like it was just three months ago. John had gotten home from work and found Mary and the boys playing in the backyard. She’d held Sam in her lap while Dean raced around the backyard picking things up and showing them to his younger brother while explaining what everything was.

“Look Sammy, this is a rock!” Dean’s excited four-year-old voice echoed in her memories. “It’s really hard. Johnny Wilson at my preschool threw one at Albert’s head and he got in big trouble.”

When the object of Dean’s focus was too big or too far away for him to pick up and bring back to his little brother, Dean would point.

“Look Sammy, it’s a bird!” Dean said. His tiny hand waved in the direction of a couple of sparrows roosting in the neighbor’s tree. “Johnny Wilson said they eat worms. Gross!”

Dean squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head like a horse trying to shoo a pesky fly. Sam giggled in her arms and babbled back at Dean.

John found the three of them like that and insisted on setting up the family’s camera on one of their outdoor chairs to capture the memory.

Mary swiped at the wetness spilling from her eyes and turned the page.

There were only two more pages of baby pictures. Mary recognized them as being ones they’d put aside in their safety deposit box or sent to friends to celebrate milestones as their kids grew. The last one she recognized was one of Dean asleep on their couch with a sleeping Sam tucked under Dean’s little four-year-old arm. This was the picture she’d kept tucked away on the sun visor of the Impala.

She turned another page and came face-to-face with two things no one should never see. A newspaper clipping talking about her death with her smiling face staring up at her and a one-page pamphlet from her own funeral service.

Mary stood up. Her chair squeaked as it slid across the tile floor. She ignored it in favor of grabbing a beer from the boys’s fridge. She didn’t bother to look for their bottle opener, instead she used the edge of the counter and the meat of her palm to pop off the cap.

After several long pulls from the bottle, Mary stood in the middle of the boys kitchen staring out the door. She chewed her bottom lip and blinked at the sting in her eyes.

You can get through this, she told herself.

She drained the bottle and dropped it in the bin Dean had made a point to explain was for their recycling. Then she grabbed another bottle and headed back to the library.

Time slipped away from her as she turned page after page.

There were very few pictures of her boys when they were kids. A newspaper clipping with a picture of a freckled boy who won a wrestling competition, he had Dean’s eyes and a different name. Another clipping of a boy she thought might be Sam grinning proudly after winning second place in a spelling bee. Again, the accomplishment was listed under a false name.

There was a creased, worn piece of paper from Stanford addressed to Sam, under his real name, saying he was accepted into their law program. On the opposite page was a picture of John with both of the boys standing in front of the Impala. The three of them looked heartsick and miserable behind their smiles. The ghosted hints of wrinkles she’d seen forming on John’s face before she died were carved deep and echoed by the gray in his hair.

An obituary for a girl named Jessica dated a few years after the Stanford letter was on the page behind the group picture.

The pictures picked up their pace after that. Low quality pictures of Sam asleep in the front seat of the Impala with gummy bears resting on his cheek. A picture of both boys standing on the side of the road, holding the camera at arms length. Dean was grinning and Sam had an exacerbated smile that reminded Mary so much of John that she found herself blinking away tears again.

A man with a scruffy beard and a beat up baseball cap started appearing in the pictures. She was fairly sure his name was Bobby. He looked kind.

There was a folded up front page of a newspaper with the date September 18, 2008.

A group photo with her boys, Bobby, Cas, and a few other people she didn’t recognize made her smile. There was something tense in their body language.

An obituary for the two women—Ellen and Joanna Beth—was followed too soon by one for Bobby.

The pictures slowed again. Her boys started looking more tired, weary. She watched them age with each passing page. Hints of wrinkles etched deeper and deeper. Circles beneath their eyes got darker and darker. Even the angel looked like he was starting to age from whatever her boys went through over the years.

Mary found herself laughing when she came across a picture of Dean wearing a suit and a gold, plastic crown. His mouth was twisted into a sarcastic smile. In the next picture he was dressed up in a medieval costume and he had an arm thrown around the shoulders of a redheaded girl with a smile nearly as wide as Dean’s. There were a few more pictures of them in their costumes smiling, sword fighting, and drinking from big metal mugs. Another picture showed Dean in a red costume with blue face paint. The next had Dean in the same face paint and red costume with his arms wrapped around the redhead and Sam, who looked less enthusiastic about wearing the costume than his brother. From the brochure tucked on the next page, Mary assumed these pictures were taken at a Renaissance Festival set in Moondor, wherever that was.

Pictures that were obviously taken in the bunker started showing up after that.

Sam sitting at one of these tables with his nose in a book. Dean dressed in a robe with his feet kicked up and a mug of coffee in his hands. Dean and the redheaded girl sitting in front of a laptop laughing together. A boy with dark hair and tired eyes glaring at the camera while Dean grinned in the background. Sam holding up a big plastic sandwich bag filled with glitter and… his phone? Sam a few minutes later holding Dean in a headlock, both of her boys were grinning despite their scuffle.

A picture of Dean and the redheaded girl on Dean’s bed. She was asleep on his shoulder and he was looking at her with a fond smile.

“Hey mom,” Dean’s voice cut through her thoughts.

Mary nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned to face her oldest son.

“Woah, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Dean said. “What are you doing up so early?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Mary said. “I found your photo album. I thought it would help to… I don’t know.”

Dean smiled at her. She could see the sadness radiating from his green eyes.

Mary cleared her throat and gestured at the open album.

“Who is this girl?” Mary asked. “Was she your girlfriend?”

“What?” Dean asked. He took a seat next to her and turned the album so he could see the picture. A miserable sound slipped from the back of his throat. He sniffed and spared Mary a quick glance. “No, not a girlfriend. That’s Charlie, the little sister I never wanted.” His voice cracked. “The one I didn’t deserve.”

Mary wrapped her arm around her son’s shoulder.

For a moment he let himself relax into her comforting hold. Then he straightened and gave her a tight smile.

“Want me to guide you through everything?” Dean asked. “Some context might help.”

“I’d like that,” Mary said.

Dean sniffed again and moved back to the front page of the album.

“This is the only picture of the four of us that survived the fire,” Dean said. “I don’t remember that day, but this picture is one that’s kept me going in a lot of really dark places.”

#mary winchester #spn #dean winchester #spn fanfic #mittensmorgul #my spn fanfic

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donburton · 7 years

Text

For years, Google has been tracking employee performance at work and linking it back to their performance in school. Their conclusion: How well someone performs in school has zero predictive value for how well they will perform on the job—none. From engineering to operations to sales to finance, where a person went to school and what their grades and class rank were has no bearing on how well they will apply skills and knowledge, collaborate with others, and deliver results. Considering that Google hires the best and the brightest from institutions like Harvard, Yale, MIT, and Stanford, it is a stunning revelation. Given this data, I can’t help but wonder, “What is the value of the outputs that the current education system produces even when operating at its best?

It is clear today that education is at a crossroads. Many of our assumptions about education default to what we know as the traditional “schooling” model—classrooms, teachers, lectures, worksheets, tests—a model replicated from the earliest daycare and preschool settings to K12 and higher ed, indeed throughout life in corporate training courses and lifelong learning offerings. This current paradigm is a narrow and limited conception of what education can be. Do we stick and tinker with this old paradigm and industrial age model that is now hundreds if not thousands of years old? Or can we re-imagine and re-invent a new kind of education for the new post-industrial digital technology world we live in.

Based on research from cognitive scientists like Nobel Prize winner Daniel Kahneman, Gerald Edelman, Antonio Damasio, Martin Seligman and others, we are on the cusp of a profound new understanding of brain, mind, consciousness, learning, talent and how education can best support the development of the unique potential of each human being. We now better understand how the brain gives rise to mind and consciousness, and that Learning is hardwired in humans and is a process going on 24/7 from cradle to grave. We cannot turn it off, even if we are not conscious of it. Learning is happening automatically in all of the non-conscious information processing systems that have evolved over millions of years. Education is an intentional act to support, scaffold and accelerate that natural learning process. Such an educational intervention can happen anytime, anywhere and is not restricted to isolated classroom settings. Talent is simply the unique profile of capabilities, the human potential that defines who each individual is—our propensities to get better at something, our individuality, since no two people are the same. The implications of the new science of mind are radical.

Although the complex notational systems associated with reading, writing and arithmetic may have called for decontextualized education in the past, today, the ubiquitous availability of easy-to-access technology provides rich opportunities for on demand mentors, teachers or classrooms to scaffold learning with formal educational interventions in any skill needed for life. Instead of assuming formal education will only happen in academic subjects until college or graduate school, in a new paradigm it will happen throughout life in all domains of human endeavor. As a result, I predict that we are about to see more change in education in the next 20 years than we have in the last two thousand. Advances in cognitive sciences, new technologies and digital globalization of markets will invent a new paradigm, with a radically new operating system for education. Already we are seeing an army of entrepreneurs pouring into the sector, forging bold new visions with transformational applications for new ideas and technology. In this book, I share these visions and introduce a radically new paradigm to inspire and implement this exciting transformation in education.

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ashotinthedark-avengers · 5 years

Text

A Shot In The Dark: Chapter 1: Every Hero Needs a Backstory-Part 2

You woke up in a hospital bed, you had abrasions on your face and arms, and two different IVs connected to you.

Your dad was sitting on the chair next to the bed. He saw you stir and quickly ran to yell for a doctor.

A doctor and a nurse walked in.

"What happened?" you asked groggily

"There was an explosion in your lab. You're lucky to be alive, we had to operate on you, a large piece of shrapnel hit your abdomen, narrowly missing your vital organs. You have a scar there unfortunately."

"Where's Collin" you asked

"They found him shielding you, I'm sorry to tell you that he didn't make it" the Doctor responded.

You burst out into tears. Your father hugged you and comforted the best he could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Julie came to see you later that day.

"Julie, I'm so sorry" you said, bursting in to tears.

Julie had light brown her, she has a soft demeanor, which makes her perfect for being a preschool teacher.

"They told me he died protecting you. That he's a hero." she cried.

"We will be having a service next Saturday" she said as she wiped a tear away and left without another word.

She had a hand on her belly the entire time, she was about 6 months pregnant. She couldn’t even look at you. You didn’t know why she invited you to Collin's funeral

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following morning, you received a visit from your graduate professor and a member of the student safety committee.

"Miss Vasquez, we're suspending your project until we've inspected it. Can you explain what happened?” the man asked.

"It was working fine. It was the power. If the power didn't go out, the faraday cage wouldn’t have failed. It probably all got ruined anyways, but ill send all my stuff, all my writings and research I’ve done so far” you told your professor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were discharged from the hospital the following morning. You went back home instead of your dorm. You kept asking yourself what you could have done or if the project was actually safe. You felt guilty. Guilty that you let your best friend die.

You spent about a week in bed. Your dad tried everything to get you up. He even called your children hood best friend to come over. Jess. You’ve known Jess since birth. Your fathers have been friends since childhood. The two of you got a little distant when you started doing Calculus in elementary school, but she was always there for you whenever you went home. She brought you chocolate ice cream and sci-fi movies, she hated them but knew they were your favorite.

That same day you received a call from your professor, they did an extensive inspection and found no faults. He was actually impressed that it works and told you that you can return to continue your work when you are ready.

When you hung up, you felt slightly better. The least you can do is finish your project and put Collin's name on. You had to do more research though. Even though it was the power that failed last time, you weren't taking any chances.

You sat up on your bed, grabbed your laptop and searched up Bruce Banner. The first couple of searches, came up with the basic papers you already read. The others just showed the Hulk. You came up across a forum, that discussed a secret government department that was in charge of handling things like the Hulk and Iron Man.

S.H. I. E. L. D.

"Maybe, there was more information about Dr. Banner in their files." you thought. "How hard can it be?"

You found a loophole around their firewall and gained access to their mainframe.

There wasn't anything useful for your research. Nothing about gamma radiation.

You did come across some interesting files.

Bruce Banner/ The Hulk

Tony Stark/ Ironman

Steve Rogers/ Captain America

Black Widow/ Natasha Romanoff

Hawkeye/ Clint Barton

Thor

Loki, Vision, Scarlett Witch, Quicksilver, Black Panther, Spider-man, Steven Strange, Carol Danvers ,Ant-Man, The Wasp, Falcon;

The list go on and on.

You gave up, closed your laptop and fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following morning, and for the first time in a week you showered and got dressed. After all, It was Collin's funeral later that day. Your wavy black hair was pushed it back with bobby pins. You put on a black dress that had buttons all way down on the front.

The funeral was grim as expected, there was dinner after the church service, but decided not to go, the guilt of seeing Collin's pregnant wife would eat you alive.

When you got home, you were emotionally exhausted from the day and went straight to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Here goes nothing" you said flipping a switch on your control panel.

" It's working!" you screamed.

You looked at Collin and him back onto your machine.

The power went out.

"No" you screamed as you tried flicking all the control panel.

There were electric sparks coming from the machine.

"Turn it off" Collin yelled.

"There's no power." you responded.

The emergency generator turned back on, the surge of power caused the cylinder containing the gas to break open. A flash of pink spewed onto you and Collin. The break caused the machinery to become unstable and caused the cage to fail. Collin realized this a flung forward to unplug the machine, but he was too late. You both realized it was going to blow. The last thing you remember is Collin standing over you protecting you from the blast.

~~~~

You woke up in a panic and sweating. It was dark, you stood up and headed to the bathroom and placed you hand on the sink and looked into the mirror in front of you. You eyes were glowing pink, you looked down at your hand and they were also emitting, a pink color.

"What in the hell" you said out loud.

You closed your eyes and made yourself calm down. When you opened your eyes again, everything was back to normal. Must have been dreaming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 years later…………

You were sitting in your lab making the last edits to you thesis paper, when someone walked in.

"You can't be in here" you yelled without looking up.

"I'm looking for Liz Vasquez" you heard a man say.

You looked up and saw none other than Tony Stark.

"You're Tony Stark" you said shocked. "What are you doing here"

"I've been hearing rumors of flying pink lady hanging around Los Angeles" He said.

You close your laptop.

"I've read your file, Stanford at 16, Cal-tech at 20. Masters in Quantum Physics and Biochemistry. Figure out where you're going after you graduate?"

"Here, for my PHD program" you stuttered

"At 22? Move to New York. Transfer and I'll fund your entire PHD project. And you can have your own lab at Stark Industries.

"WHAT? What's the catch" you asked suspiciously.

"I need your pink lady to help me out in a family dispute" he said

"Ampere, and just so you know, I don’t fly." you said.

"So what do you do?"

"I create plasma platforms. I can shoot plasma from my hands. I can create anything. Structures, weapons. I create what I want and manipulate them with electromagnetic energy.”

You make your hands glow and create a small pink solid platform in front of you. And just as you conjured it, it disappeared.

"So are you in?" he asked.

"I'll need a suit. "

#Bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #james buchanan barnes #avengers #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barns fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #avengers endgame #marvel #iron man #tony stark #steve rogers

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Nature ‘You Are Still Black’: Charlottesville’s Racial Divide Hinders Black Students

Nature ‘You Are Still Black’: Charlottesville’s Racial Divide Hinders Black Students Nature ‘You Are Still Black’: Charlottesville’s Racial Divide Hinders Black Students http://www.nature-business.com/nature-you-are-still-black-charlottesvilles-racial-divide-hinders-black-students/

Nature

Image

Trinity Hughes, left, and Zyahna Bryant at Charlottesville High School, where they are seniors.CreditCreditMatt Eich

CHARLOTTESVILLE, Va. — This article was reported and written in a collaboration with ProPublica, the nonprofit investigative journalism organization.

Zyahna Bryant and Trinity Hughes, high school seniors, have been friends since they were 6, raised by blue-collar families in this affluent college town. They played on the same T-ball and softball teams, and were in the same church group.

But like many African-American children in Charlottesville, Trinity lived on the south side of town and went to a predominantly black neighborhood elementary school. Zyahna lived across the train tracks, on the north side, and was zoned to a mostly white school, near the University of Virginia campus, that boasts the city’s highest reading scores.

In elementary school, Zyahna was chosen for the district’s program for gifted students. Since then, she has completed more than a dozen advanced-placement and college-level courses, maintained a nearly 4.0 grade-point average, and has been a student leader and a community activist. She has her eyes set on a prestigious university like UVA.

“I want to go somewhere where it shows how much hard work I’ve put in,” Zyahna said.

Trinity was not selected for the gifted program. She tried to enroll in higher-level courses and was denied. She expects to graduate this school year, but with a transcript that she says will not make her competitive for selective four-year colleges.

“I know what I’m capable of, and what I can do,” Trinity said, “but the counselors and teachers, they don’t really care about that.”

Charlottesville

Black population

above city average

Norfolk Southern and CSX Railroads

HALF A MILE

Black population

above city average

Charlottesville

Norfolk Southern and CSX Railroads

HALF A MILE

Black population

above city average

Charlottesville

Norfolk Southern and CSX Railroads

For every student like Zyahna in Charlottesville’s schools, there are scores like Trinity, caught in one of the widest educational disparities in the United States. Charlottesville’s racial inequities mirror college towns across the country, including Berkeley, Calif., and Evanston, Ill. But they also match the wider world of education, which is grappling with racial gaps — in areas including gifted programs and school discipline — that can undercut the effort to equitably prepare students for college in a competitive economy.

[To examine racial disparities in educational opportunities and school discipline, visit ProPublica’s interactive database of more than 96,000 public and charter schools and 17,000 school districts.]

The debate over the city’s statue of Robert E. Lee and the white supremacist march last year set Charlottesville apart, and spurred it to confront its Confederate past. But the city has not fully come to terms with another aspect of its Jim Crow legacy: a school system that segregates students from the time they start, and steers them into separate and unequal tracks.

Charlottesville is “beautiful physically and aesthetically pleasing, but a very ugly-in-the-soul place,” said Nikuyah Walker, who became its first black female mayor during the self-recrimination that swept the city after last year’s white nationalist rallies. “No one has ever attempted to undo that, and that affects whether our children can learn here.”

Today, white students make up 40 percent of Charlottesville’s enrollment, and African-American students about a third. But white children are about four times as likely to be in Charlottesville’s gifted program, while black students are more than four times as likely to be held back a grade and almost five times as likely to be suspended from school, according to a ProPublica/New York Times examination of newly available district and federal data.

Since 2005, the academic gulf between white and black students in Charlottesville has widened in nearly all subjects, including reading, writing, history and science. As of last year, half of all black students in Charlottesville could not read at grade level, compared with only a tenth of white students, according to state data. Black students in Charlottesville lag on average about three and a half grades behind their white peers in reading and math, compared with a national gap of about two grades.

Over the decades, school board members have often brushed aside findings of racial inequality in Charlottesville schools, including a 2004 audit — commissioned by the district’s first African-American superintendent — that blamed inadequate leadership and a history of racism for the persistent underachievement of its black students.

Officials in the 4,500-student district — which spends about $16,000 per pupil, one of the highest rates in the state — instead point to socioeconomic differences. The vast majority of Charlottesville’s black children qualify for free or reduced-price meals at school because of low family income.

District leaders say they are tackling the achievement gap with initiatives such as eliminating prerequisites for advanced classes. Besides, they say, test scores are only one measure of success.

Image

A statue of Robert E. Lee in Charlottesville, Va. Last year, the city’s Confederate past came into the national spotlight.CreditJared Soares

“I’m not trying to make excuses” for the test scores of black students, said Rosa Atkins, the district’s superintendent for almost 13 years, “but that’s only one measure of where they are, and who they are, and their capabilities for success.”

About a third of the 25 districts with the widest achievement disparities between white and black students are in or near college towns, according to a review of data compiled by researchers at Stanford University. Affluent families in university towns invest a large proportion of their resources in their children’s education, said Sean Reardon, a professor of education at Stanford.

In such communities, “disparities in resources — between white and black students, for example — may be more consequential,” he said.

Dr. Atkins said that it is unfair to compare black students with white classmates who attended the best preschools and have traveled abroad. “The experiences that they bring into our school system are very different,” she said. “When we start saying that until you start performing like white children, you have a deficit, I think that in itself is discrimination.”

Still, socioeconomics do not fully explain the gap. State exam data shows that, among Charlottesville children from low-income families, white students outperformed black students in all subjects over the past three years. The same pattern holds true for wealthier students.

And in the past year, even the city’s immigrant students who are learning English have outperformed black students on state exams in every subject.

Dr. Atkins said that what does not show up in test scores is how far behind black children start, and how they sometimes have to acquire two years’ worth of skills in just one year.

“I dare say that our black children are performing better than our white children” when their progress is considered, she said. “That tells me that our children have resilience, tenacity and ability far superior than what we’re giving them credit for.”

Among white parents, last year’s rallies have fostered more frank discussions of racial inequality, said one of the parents, Guian McKee, an associate professor at the University of Virginia. “There’s been a lot more openness to some of those challenging conversations,” he said.

At their predominantly black elementary school, Mr. McKee’s two children participated in the gifted program, which is about three-quarters white. Such disparities, at odds with Charlottesville’s reputation as a bastion of Southern progressivism, have long been a taboo topic, he said.

“For a lot of people, it’s really uncomfortable to see that even if you haven’t personally done anything wrong,” Mr. McKee said, “you’re part of larger structures that contribute to producing poverty and inequality, including in educational outcomes.”

Jim Crow Past

Image

African-American students studying at home while Charlottesville schools were closed in 1958.CreditEd Clark/The LIFE Picture Collection, via Getty Images

Much like its Confederate past, Charlottesville’s history of school segregation weighs heavily on the present day. “I don’t think the hate groups selected our community by chance,” Dr. Atkins said.

Charlottesville greeted the Supreme Court’s 1954 Brown v. Board of Education desegregation decision with a firm no. In 1958, Gov. J. Lindsay Almond of Virginia ordered the city to shut down two white-serving public schools rather than integrate.

Many white families opted for private schools, which were able to secure public funding through voucherlike tuition grants. Under pressure from the Supreme Court of Virginia, Charlottesville reopened its schools in 1959, allowing a dozen black students to attend its historically white schools.

But the city’s resistance to integration persisted. Instead of outright segregation, the white-led district established testing requirements solely for black students who tried to enroll in historically white schools. It also allowed white students who lived in attendance zones of historically black schools to transfer back to predominantly white schools. Black students who lived near mostly white schools were assigned to black schools.

After a federal appeals court invalidated the district’s attendance policies, the city relied more closely on residential zones to sort students. In 1984, Charlottesville High School ignited after its student newspaper published derogatory remarks about black students. The high school was shut down for a day. “Seniors for White Supremacy” was painted in its parking lot.

Two years later, the board considered redrawing school zones to bolster racial and economic equity, but worried about white flight. In the end, elementary school boundaries were largely left alone. The district pooled the city’s middle school students into two schools, one serving all fifth and sixth graders, and the other serving all seventh and eighth graders. The number of white students declined about 20 percent within a decade.

‘Future of Such a Legacy Is Dire’

Image

Venable Elementary School, which Zyahna attended, has the highest reading proficiency of all of the elementary schools in the city.CreditJared Soares

Other efforts to reshape attendance zones faced resistance. In 2003, a group of predominantly black families asked to send 20 of their children to Venable Elementary School, one of the historically white schools that had once closed rather than integrate.

Venable, which Zyahna would later attend, has the highest reading proficiency of all of the elementary schools in the city. The black families lived several blocks from Venable, and they had grown frustrated by their children’s long commutes to their zoned school. But when the school board proposed reassigning the 20 children, white parents from Venable “freaked,” said Dede Smith, then a board member.

“We will NOT accept redistricting when it is done, as in this situation, sloppily and hurriedly and in a way which negatively impacts the quality of education for all students involved,” read a letter from the Venable parent-teacher organization. It took a year for the board to rezone the children to Venable, according to Ms. Smith. Today, some black families are able to send their children there, but residents of a mostly black public housing complex nearby are not among them.

“We only put our toe in the water,” she said.

The next year, in 2004, the school board hired Scottie Griffin as superintendent. She tapped a respected education association to review inequities across the district. The report, by five academics, revealed a deeply fractured school system.

“While some members of the community might wish for an elongated period of time to ponder and debate changes, the children are in school only once and then they are gone,” the audit concluded. “No city can survive by only serving one-half its constituents well. The future of such a legacy is dire.”

The auditors pushed for increasing black students’ access to high-level academic programs, including gifted and advanced-placement courses.

Image

“There is an incentive to segregate these kids,” said Dede Smith, a former school board member.CreditJared Soares

Kathy Galvin, a parent who is now a City Council member, responded to the audit in an internal memo to the school board, urging the board to reject the racial bias findings, which she called “unnecessary and in fact harmful,” and implored members to focus on improving “our educational system for the benefit of all children.”

Today, Ms. Galvin largely stands by that position. “A ‘too narrow and racially biased’ focus on the schools does a disservice to the dedicated educators who have made a difference and risks misdiagnosing a complex problem, leading to ineffective solutions,” she said.

In 2005, within a year of her hiring, Dr. Griffin was pushed out. She did not respond to questions from The Times and ProPublica.

Dr. Atkins said she has incorporated some of the audit’s recommendations, such as data-driven decision-making and a reorganization of central office staff, into the district’s strategic plan.

One of the audit’s central focuses was the city’s gifted program, known as Quest. As white enrollment in the city’s schools contracted over the years, the program tripled in size, according to an analysis by a University of Virginia researcher, largely benefiting the white families who remained.

To black families, segregation had returned by another name.

“Everyone wants the best for their kid, but this has been the thing that has helped drive the segregation engine,” said Lisa Woolfork, an associate professor at UVA and a member of Black Lives Matter Charlottesville, whose children attend Charlottesville schools. “I have always been of the opinion that this type of internal segregation is the way to keep white people in the public schools. This is a way that white supremacy undergirds the public school system.”

In 1984, only 11 percent of Charlottesville’s white students qualified as gifted, according to federal data from the UVA analysis. By 2003, according to the audit, about a third of white students qualified, the same proportion as today. White students make up more than 70 percent of the district’s gifted students.

When students are selected for Quest, they are pulled out of their regular classrooms for enrichment sessions in academics and arts with a specialized teacher in a designated classroom.

“When people bring up Quest, we get angry,” Trinity said. “We all wish we had the opportunity to have that separate creative time. It drives a gap between students from elementary school on.”

Image

Lisa Woolfork, an associate professor at the University of Virginia, whose children attend Charlottesville schools, said, “I have always been of the opinion that this type of internal segregation is the way to keep white people in the public schools.”CreditJared Soares

For children who read below grade level, the city offers a supplemental program called Extending the Bridges of Literacy. But the program takes place after school, and it is taught by instructors who volunteer to extend their workday for extra pay, regardless of whether they have specialized intervention training.

Racial inequities persist into the high school’s advanced-placement courses, which provide students with college credits. White students in Charlottesville are nearly six times as likely to be in advanced courses as their black peers, according to recently released federal data.

“There is an incentive to segregate these kids,” Ms. Smith said. “I don’t think the schools see anything positive in an academic mixing pot because the white parents will leave.”

In the past two years, Charlottesville High administrators have introduced staff training on racial inequalities. Teachers have participated in professional development that included studying “equity-based teaching”; lessons in Charlottesville’s local black history and Civil War history; and workshops on implicit bias. The school’s principal also set up focus groups and surveyed high-performing black students about underrepresentation in advanced courses.

Dr. Atkins, the school district’s superintendent, has introduced other initiatives aimed at reducing the achievement gap. Besides abolishing prerequisites for advanced courses, she created a “matrix” that families could follow to map out a sequence of coursework. She has also tried to remedy the underrepresentation of minorities and girls in science electives by giving every middle schooler an opportunity to take an engineering course.

The district, meanwhile, expanded what it calls “honors option” courses, in which students can choose to meet requirements for regular or honors credit.

Jennifer Horne, an English teacher at Charlottesville High School, called her honors option course “the most beautiful place in the building.”

“You’ve got struggling readers, and kids who are way smarter than me in the same room,” she said.

Ms. Horne added that she is able to pose the “big questions,” which are usually reserved for advanced courses, and identify students with untapped potential.

Confidence Game

Image

Zyahna said that she felt isolated in the sea of white faces at school. She later became an activist for African-American students.CreditMatt Eich

With the help of a scholarship, Zyahna attended preschool through part of first grade at an elite private school. Her preparation helped her to pass an admission test for the gifted program after she entered Venable. As she got older, church members who worked in the schools advised her on the programs and classes she needed to stay on pace with her white peers.

Zyahna felt isolated in the sea of white faces. She became an activist, founding the Black Student Union, petitioning the City Council to remove the Lee statue and speaking out at school board meetings about the achievement gap. “It has caused me to become even more of an advocate for people of color, just for my blackness, because you enter into this whole sunken place when you get into honors and A.P. courses,” she said.

Zyahna likened her high school experience to shopping because students have to scout out the best deals. “You literally have to go ask for everything yourself,” she said, “and not everyone has those skills or confidence.”

Trinity said she lost that confidence as teachers repeatedly rejected her requests to enroll in higher-level courses. She tried to take Algebra II her junior year, an essential course for many colleges. Trinity had struggled early in a geometry course, but had stayed after school, sought tutoring and earned a B. She figured that she could work just as hard in Algebra II, but her geometry teacher would not allow it, Trinity said.

The teacher declined to comment on individual students. School officials said that a student’s performance in geometry is not the only factor in a teacher’s recommendation for Algebra II.

Trinity’s mother, Valarie Walker, fought for Trinity to take higher-level courses, but school personnel did not “want to listen to what the black kids have to say,” she said.

“I don’t think our voices were as strong as they needed to be,” Ms. Walker said. “They kept saying, ‘This would be better.’ I think we gave up fighting.”

Tale of 2 Diplomas

Image

Trinity said she lost confidence as teachers repeatedly rejected her requests to enroll in higher-level courses.CreditMatt Eich

In Charlottesville’s schools, the mantra is, “Graduate by any means necessary.” Bring up anything else — test scores, suspension rates — and Dr. Atkins counters, “We prefer to focus on the long-term goals, and the long-term goal is graduation.”

About 88 percent of black students graduate, just under the state average for African-American students, and up from 66 percent a decade ago. They trail their white peers by about eight percentage points. The district’s graduation rate, 92.6 percent, is at its highest since the segregation era, Dr. Atkins said.

But all diplomas are not equal. About three decades ago, Virginia established a two-tier diploma track in which districts award “standard” or “advanced” diplomas based on a student’s coursework. It is one of at least 14 states with this kind of approach. Three years ago, the state superintendent of public instruction proposed moving to a single-diploma system, but backed off when parents complained.

The advanced diploma requires students to complete an additional credit in mathematics, science and history and mandates that students to take at least three years of a foreign language; for the standard diploma, learning a language is not compulsory. Starting as early as middle school, honors and accelerated courses put some students on a path to advanced high school credits. In Charlottesville, about three-quarters of white students graduate with an advanced diploma, compared with a quarter of their black peers.

The type of diploma that students receive overwhelmingly dictates whether they enroll in two- or four-year colleges, or move on to higher education at all. In Virginia, only a tenth of students with standard diplomas enroll in a four-year college, a recent study found.

Dr. Atkins acknowledged that some minority students may be discouraged from taking higher-level courses that could qualify them for better colleges and said that the district will remind parents to bring these rebuffs to her attention. Mayor Walker, whose son is a sophomore at Charlottesville High, said some attitudes have not changed: “There have been a lot of people who just don’t believe in the potential of our kids.”

Since middle school, Trinity’s goal has been to attend James Madison University in Harrisonburg, Va. She has gained enough credits for an advanced diploma, but last month she learned that she would need a math class higher than Algebra II to gain admission.

A university representative recommended she go to community college, then possibly transfer to James Madison. Michael Walsh, the university’s dean of admissions, said that 99 percent of the students it accepts have gone beyond Algebra II.

Trinity was crushed: “It made me realize I really haven’t been prepared like the rest of the students to be ‘college ready.’”

Zyahna’s achievements make her a prime candidate for an elite university, so she was taken aback when, as she was beginning her search, her principal encouraged her to explore community college. The principal says the context was a broad discussion with black student leaders about community college as an affordable option.

That is not how Zyahna heard it.

“No matter how high your scores are or how many hours you put into your work, you are still black,” Zyahna said. “There’s a whole system you’re up against. Every small victory just cuts a hole into that system reminding you how fragile it is. But it’s still there.”

Read More | https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/16/us/charlottesville-riots-black-students-schools.html |

Nature ‘You Are Still Black’: Charlottesville’s Racial Divide Hinders Black Students, in 2018-10-16 11:44:04

#Nature of Business in the Current Market

0 notes

computacionalblog · 6 years

Text

Nature ‘You Are Still Black’: Charlottesville’s Racial Divide Hinders Black Students

Nature

Image

Trinity Hughes, left, and Zyahna Bryant at Charlottesville High School, where they are seniors.CreditCreditMatt Eich

CHARLOTTESVILLE, Va. — This article was reported and written in a collaboration with ProPublica, the nonprofit investigative journalism organization.

“I want to go somewhere where it shows how much hard work I’ve put in,” Zyahna said.

“I know what I’m capable of, and what I can do,” Trinity said, “but the counselors and teachers, they don’t really care about that.”

Charlottesville

Black population

above city average

Norfolk Southern and CSX Railroads

HALF A MILE

Black population

above city average

Charlottesville

Norfolk Southern and CSX Railroads

HALF A MILE

Black population

above city average

Charlottesville

Norfolk Southern and CSX Railroads

District leaders say they are tackling the achievement gap with initiatives such as eliminating prerequisites for advanced classes. Besides, they say, test scores are only one measure of success.

Image

A statue of Robert E. Lee in Charlottesville, Va. Last year, the city’s Confederate past came into the national spotlight.CreditJared Soares

In such communities, “disparities in resources — between white and black students, for example — may be more consequential,” he said.

And in the past year, even the city’s immigrant students who are learning English have outperformed black students on state exams in every subject.

Dr. Atkins said that what does not show up in test scores is how far behind black children start, and how they sometimes have to acquire two years’ worth of skills in just one year.

Jim Crow Past

Image

African-American students studying at home while Charlottesville schools were closed in 1958.CreditEd Clark/The LIFE Picture Collection, via Getty Images

‘Future of Such a Legacy Is Dire’

Image

Venable Elementary School, which Zyahna attended, has the highest reading proficiency of all of the elementary schools in the city.CreditJared Soares

“We only put our toe in the water,” she said.

The auditors pushed for increasing black students’ access to high-level academic programs, including gifted and advanced-placement courses.

Image

“There is an incentive to segregate these kids,” said Dede Smith, a former school board member.CreditJared Soares

In 2005, within a year of her hiring, Dr. Griffin was pushed out. She did not respond to questions from The Times and ProPublica.

Dr. Atkins said she has incorporated some of the audit’s recommendations, such as data-driven decision-making and a reorganization of central office staff, into the district’s strategic plan.

To black families, segregation had returned by another name.

When students are selected for Quest, they are pulled out of their regular classrooms for enrichment sessions in academics and arts with a specialized teacher in a designated classroom.

“When people bring up Quest, we get angry,” Trinity said. “We all wish we had the opportunity to have that separate creative time. It drives a gap between students from elementary school on.”

Image

“There is an incentive to segregate these kids,” Ms. Smith said. “I don’t think the schools see anything positive in an academic mixing pot because the white parents will leave.”

The district, meanwhile, expanded what it calls “honors option” courses, in which students can choose to meet requirements for regular or honors credit.

Jennifer Horne, an English teacher at Charlottesville High School, called her honors option course “the most beautiful place in the building.”

“You’ve got struggling readers, and kids who are way smarter than me in the same room,” she said.

Ms. Horne added that she is able to pose the “big questions,” which are usually reserved for advanced courses, and identify students with untapped potential.

Confidence Game

Image

Zyahna said that she felt isolated in the sea of white faces at school. She later became an activist for African-American students.CreditMatt Eich

The teacher declined to comment on individual students. School officials said that a student’s performance in geometry is not the only factor in a teacher’s recommendation for Algebra II.

Trinity’s mother, Valarie Walker, fought for Trinity to take higher-level courses, but school personnel did not “want to listen to what the black kids have to say,” she said.

“I don’t think our voices were as strong as they needed to be,” Ms. Walker said. “They kept saying, ‘This would be better.’ I think we gave up fighting.”

Tale of 2 Diplomas

Image

Trinity said she lost confidence as teachers repeatedly rejected her requests to enroll in higher-level courses.CreditMatt Eich

Trinity was crushed: “It made me realize I really haven’t been prepared like the rest of the students to be ‘college ready.’”

That is not how Zyahna heard it.

Read More | https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/16/us/charlottesville-riots-black-students-schools.html |

Nature ‘You Are Still Black’: Charlottesville’s Racial Divide Hinders Black Students, in 2018-10-16 11:44:04

#Nature of Business in the Current Market

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blogparadiseisland · 6 years

Text

Nature ‘You Are Still Black’: Charlottesville’s Racial Divide Hinders Black Students

Nature

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Trinity Hughes, left, and Zyahna Bryant at Charlottesville High School, where they are seniors.CreditCreditMatt Eich

CHARLOTTESVILLE, Va. — This article was reported and written in a collaboration with ProPublica, the nonprofit investigative journalism organization.

“I want to go somewhere where it shows how much hard work I’ve put in,” Zyahna said.

“I know what I’m capable of, and what I can do,” Trinity said, “but the counselors and teachers, they don’t really care about that.”

Charlottesville

Black population

above city average

Norfolk Southern and CSX Railroads

HALF A MILE

Black population

above city average

Charlottesville

Norfolk Southern and CSX Railroads

HALF A MILE

Black population

above city average

Charlottesville

Norfolk Southern and CSX Railroads

District leaders say they are tackling the achievement gap with initiatives such as eliminating prerequisites for advanced classes. Besides, they say, test scores are only one measure of success.

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A statue of Robert E. Lee in Charlottesville, Va. Last year, the city’s Confederate past came into the national spotlight.CreditJared Soares

In such communities, “disparities in resources — between white and black students, for example — may be more consequential,” he said.

And in the past year, even the city’s immigrant students who are learning English have outperformed black students on state exams in every subject.

Dr. Atkins said that what does not show up in test scores is how far behind black children start, and how they sometimes have to acquire two years’ worth of skills in just one year.

Jim Crow Past

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African-American students studying at home while Charlottesville schools were closed in 1958.CreditEd Clark/The LIFE Picture Collection, via Getty Images

‘Future of Such a Legacy Is Dire’

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Venable Elementary School, which Zyahna attended, has the highest reading proficiency of all of the elementary schools in the city.CreditJared Soares

“We only put our toe in the water,” she said.

The auditors pushed for increasing black students’ access to high-level academic programs, including gifted and advanced-placement courses.

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“There is an incentive to segregate these kids,” said Dede Smith, a former school board member.CreditJared Soares

In 2005, within a year of her hiring, Dr. Griffin was pushed out. She did not respond to questions from The Times and ProPublica.

Dr. Atkins said she has incorporated some of the audit’s recommendations, such as data-driven decision-making and a reorganization of central office staff, into the district’s strategic plan.

To black families, segregation had returned by another name.

When students are selected for Quest, they are pulled out of their regular classrooms for enrichment sessions in academics and arts with a specialized teacher in a designated classroom.

“When people bring up Quest, we get angry,” Trinity said. “We all wish we had the opportunity to have that separate creative time. It drives a gap between students from elementary school on.”

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“There is an incentive to segregate these kids,” Ms. Smith said. “I don’t think the schools see anything positive in an academic mixing pot because the white parents will leave.”

The district, meanwhile, expanded what it calls “honors option” courses, in which students can choose to meet requirements for regular or honors credit.

Jennifer Horne, an English teacher at Charlottesville High School, called her honors option course “the most beautiful place in the building.”

“You’ve got struggling readers, and kids who are way smarter than me in the same room,” she said.

Ms. Horne added that she is able to pose the “big questions,” which are usually reserved for advanced courses, and identify students with untapped potential.

Confidence Game

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Zyahna said that she felt isolated in the sea of white faces at school. She later became an activist for African-American students.CreditMatt Eich

The teacher declined to comment on individual students. School officials said that a student’s performance in geometry is not the only factor in a teacher’s recommendation for Algebra II.

Trinity’s mother, Valarie Walker, fought for Trinity to take higher-level courses, but school personnel did not “want to listen to what the black kids have to say,” she said.

“I don’t think our voices were as strong as they needed to be,” Ms. Walker said. “They kept saying, ‘This would be better.’ I think we gave up fighting.”

Tale of 2 Diplomas

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Trinity said she lost confidence as teachers repeatedly rejected her requests to enroll in higher-level courses.CreditMatt Eich

Trinity was crushed: “It made me realize I really haven’t been prepared like the rest of the students to be ‘college ready.’”

That is not how Zyahna heard it.

Read More | https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/16/us/charlottesville-riots-black-students-schools.html |

Nature ‘You Are Still Black’: Charlottesville’s Racial Divide Hinders Black Students, in 2018-10-16 11:44:04

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