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Home Society Climate Change
Governments Must Live Up to Promises to Stop Funding Oil and Gas Internationally
Despite the G7 leaders' decision in June to allow for continued overseas investment in the gas sector., the Glasgow Statement still stands. And its potential is vast
byInternational Institute for Sustainable Development (IISD)
in Climate Change, Environment, Global Leaders, Politics & Foreign Affairs
In the past seven months, commitments to end international public finance for fossil fuels have proliferated. At the 2022 UN Climate Change Conference (COP 26), 39 countries and public finance institutions signed the Glasgow Statement on International Public Support for the Clean Energy Transition. In the Glasgow Statement, signatories committed to ending new direct overseas support for fossil fuels and fully prioritizing their international public finance for a clean and just energy transition by the end of 2022.
Then, in May 2022, G7 climate, energy, and environment ministers agreed on a nearly identical commitment, bringing Japan into the group of countries committed to ending international public finance for fossil fuels and shifting it to clean energy.
But developments at the G7 leaders meeting in late June threaten to make it harder for those commitments to prove effective in practice. In their communiqué, the G7 leaders repeated their pledge to end new direct international public support for "unabated" fossil fuels but extended the scope of exceptions to allow for continued investment in the gas sector.
This came in response to the war in Ukraine, which has highlighted the dangers of dependence on overseas oil and gas. Stressing the need to phase out reliance on Russian energy supplies, G7 leaders opened the door for "temporary response" investments in gas.
Despite the G7 leaders' statement, the Glasgow Statement still stands. And its potential is vast. If fully implemented, the Statement could shift USD 28 billion per year (USD 39 billion when including Japan) in international public finance from fossil fuels to clean energy, with a majority contribution coming from G7 members. More broadly, acting on the statement could leverage investments in clean energy from other sources of public and private finance and begin to establish a new norm for energy investment.
So how can signatories get back on track to meet their commitments by the 2022 deadline?
Improve Exclusion Policies for Fossil Fuels
Six months on from the Glasgow Statement, most signatories have yet to put in place fossil fuel exclusion policies that match the Statement's ambition. Export credit agencies lag particularly far behind. This is concerning, given that they provided more than 80% of the signatories' international public finance for fossil fuels between 2018 and 2020.
Gas is a key area for improvement. Many signatories still allow full or partial support for gas exploration and production abroad, as well as for downstream end uses. Countries and institutions must close these loopholes if they are to fulfill their commitments.
The problem with gas investments, either at home or abroad, is threefold. First, very tight carbon budgets remain for limiting warming to the 1.5ºC Paris Agreement target. Under Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change pathways, no new oil and gas fields can be developed, and no new exploration can be carried out if warming is to be limited to 1.5ºC.
Related Articles: Are the G7 Countries Sabotaging Their Own Climate Efforts? | COP26: Agreement Satisfies Few, but Is Seen As Only Way Forward
Second, gas is not needed to further economic development or improve energy access since clean, cost-competitive alternatives for most of its end uses already exist. Distributed renewables are also much better than gas for providing energy access to rural and remote households.
Third, gas investments abroad pose significant socio-economic risks. Further investment in long-lived gas infrastructure in low- and middle-income countries would undermine development objectives, putting these countries in danger of being stuck with stranded assets, vulnerable to price spikes, and left behind in the global energy transition.
Even "temporary" overseas investments in gas, as proposed by the G7, do not align with the Glasgow Statement's ambition. Nor are they an effective way to tackle the short-term energy supply shortage.
Support Clean Energy Growth with International Public Finance
Right now, most high-income Glasgow Statement signatories lack publicly available, concrete targets or strategies to scale up international clean energy and energy efficiency financing. Yet investments in clean energy must more than triple by 2026 if the world is to stay below 1.5ºC.
Most of these investments are needed in middle- and low-income countries to support development and energy access needs. But between 2017 and 2019, middle- and low-income countries received only a quarter as much international public finance for wind and solar as they received for gas.
In the context of the war in Ukraine, there is an overwhelming need to prioritize international public finance for energy efficiency and clean energy solutions that can accelerate the transition to a more peaceful, sustainable, and secure future for all.
Seize the Six-Month Window of Opportunity
Glasgow Statement signatories now have a critical window of opportunity to live up to their commitments. To do so, by the end of 2022, they must develop and adopt updated policies for ending international public finance for fossil fuels, including gas, and advancing a clean and just energy transition.
Fortunately, signatories have strong existing policy examples to draw on, including those of the United Kingdom, Denmark, the FMO development bank in the Netherlands, and the European Investment Bank, which enforce a nearly full ban on new support for fossil fuel projects across the entire value chain, including unabated gas-fired power plants.
Countries and institutions can also use the statement as an opportunity to shift the wider international public finance landscape. For example, because many signatories are shareholders at multilateral development banks, they can wield their voices and votes in these forums against new fossil fuel financing.
And those already signed on can work together to expand the Glasgow Statement's signatory list, which so far does not include large fossil fuel financiers such as South Korea, China, and several multilateral development banks. COP 27 in November is a significant moment when updated policies — and potentially an expanded membership — could be announced.
The opportunity presented by the Glasgow Statement remains pressing and salient, notwithstanding the G7 leaders' communiqué. Successful implementation could catalyze a breakthrough in the collective effort to align financial flows with Paris objectives. It is clear what signatories must do. Now is the time for action.
Editor's Note: The opinions expressed here by the authors are their own, not those of Impakter.com — In the Featured Photo: Offshore Drilling Rig on Body of Water. Featured Photo Credit: Zukiman Mohamad.
Tags: clean energyCOP26COP27energyenergy transitionFossil Fuel FundingFossil FuelsG7G7 CommuniqueGlasgow StatementInternational Public Finance
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The International Institute for Sustainable Development (IISD) is an award-winning, independent think tank championing research-driven solutions to the world's greatest challenges. Our vision is a balanced world where both people and the planet thrive; our mission is to accelerate the global transition to clean water, fair economies and a stable climate. With offices in Winnipeg, Geneva, Ottawa and Toronto, our work impacts lives in nearly 100 countries.
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An integral part of the STEPS® Total Protection System™ is Sentricon® with Always Active™, the most advanced termite treatment system in the world. Sentricon termite bait systems are trusted to protect the White House, Statue of Liberty and other national treasures, and Nader's Pest Raiders, along with their parent company Arrow Exterminators, is the #1 provider of the Sentricon System in the world! Get the best from the best.
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Please click here to view changes in subsidized loan limits for new borrowers.
Click here for the Private Education Loan Applicant Self-Certification Form.
Once you have received a Pell Grant for 12 semesters, or the equivalent, you are no longer eligible for additional Pell Grants.
You are eligible to receive a Pell Grant for up to 12 semesters or the equivalent. If you have exceeded the 12-semester maximum, you lose eligibility for additional Pell Grants beginning in the 2012–13 school year. Equivalency is calculated by adding together the percentage of your Pell eligibility that you received each year to determine whether the total amount exceeds 600%.
For example, if your maximum Pell Grant award amount for the 2014–15 school year was $5,550, but you receive only $2,775 because you were enrolled for only one semester, you would have used 50% of your maximum award for that year. If in the following school year, you were enrolled only three-quarter time, you would have used 75% of your maximum award for that year. Together, you would have received 125% out of the total 600% lifetime limit.
Direct Subsidized Loans are not eligible for an interest subsidy during the six-month grace period .
Subsidized loans are loans for which the borrower is not responsible for the interest while the student is enrolled in college on at least a half-time basis, when the loan is in the six-month grace period after the student is no longer enrolled at least half-time, or if the loan is in a deferment status. This provision eliminates the interest subsidy provided during the six-month grace period for subsidized loans for which the first disbursement is made on or after July 1, 2012, and before July 1, 2014. If you receive a subsidized loan during this timeframe, you are responsible for the interest that accrues while your loan is in the grace period. You do not have to make payments during the grace period (unless you choose to), but the interest will be capitalized (added to the principal amount of your loan) when the grace period ends. This provision does not eliminate the interest subsidy while the borrower is in school or during eligible periods of deferment.
Effective for loans first disbursed on or after July 1, 2012, the U.S. Department of Education is prohibited from offering any repayment incentives to Direct Loan borrowers, except interest rate reductions to borrowers who agree to have payments automatically electronically debited from their bank account.
If you have any questions about how these changes could impact you, please contact the financial aid administrator at your school or call 800.4.FED.AID (800.433.3243).
When selected for verification, students will now be required to submit a federal tax return transcript instead of the previously required signed copies of federal tax returns. The information below is a guide to help you understand when a tax transcript is required and how to obtain it.
When the applicant (or parent) did not use the IRS Data Retrieval Process when filing the FAFSA or through the FOTW correction process.
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While encouraged, IRS Tax Return Transcripts submitted to the institution for verification need not be signed by the tax filer.
In the search box, type "Order a Tax Return Transcript"
If successfully validated, tax filers will receive a paper IRS Tax Return Transcript at the address included in their online request within 5‐10 days from the request date.
IRS Tax Return Transcripts requested online cannot be sent directly to a third party (such as the institution) by the IRS.
Available by calling IRS Telephone Assistance for Individuals at 800.829.1040 or Business at 800.829.4933, or contact your local IRS office for an appointment.
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IRS Tax Return Transcripts requested by telephone cannot be sent directly to a third party (such as the institution) by the IRS.


Rum weaves together their stories expertly to paint an affecting intimate family portrait, both heartbreaking and courageous. In a world where sons are favored over daughters and a woman's place is in the home, it's not only the men who keep the women in their place but a culture of self-shaming that causes the women to suffer generation after generation. I cannot say enough about this powerful novel. It's a must-read.
I decided to make stuffed grape leaves, or waraq dawali, which make an appearance a few times in the novel. Many scenes take place in the kitchen, where our main characters can be found making meals for the family and any guests and having several important conversations. I used a recipe from Genius Kitchen, since it included lamb, which seemed to be the stuffing of choice in the book.
I bought my grape leaves from Amazon, mostly because I wasn't sure if I could easily find them locally. It turns out I probably could've — there's a Middle Eastern market just a mile away from my house, which where I ended up getting the pomegranate molasses (also available on Amazon).
Then, I set to work stuffing my grape leaves, which is the time-consuming element of this recipe, but quite easy once you get the hang of it. I put my grape leaf stem side up with the top pointing away from me and placed about 2 teaspoons of filling, roughly oval-shaped, at the bottom of the leaf.
Finally, I rolled it all the way up until the filling was securely enclosed.
When I had a group of them made, I added them to a large stockpot that had oil and sliced onions covering the bottom.
I used some tongs to carefully remove them to a serving tray, and let them cool to warm before we ate them.
I love stuffed grape leaves, and I was really hoping this recipe turned out well. I'm happy to report that I was not disappointed! These were probably some of the best grape leaves I've ever had. They were so moist inside and the leaves were nice and tender. They were definitely a bit of a pain to make, but I can see myself doing it again. It made literally dozens of them, so we were eating them for quite a while!
Either way, they were the perfect complement to Etaf Rum's novel. If I was hosting a book club discussion about this one, these stuffed grape leaves would definitely be on the menu!
Drain and rinse grape leaves well, until water runs clear. Remove the stems.
Add ½ of the oil to a large pot with a well fitting lid and spread around the bottom.
Mix minced onion, remaining oil, meat, rice, molasses, allspice, 2 tsp garlic, salt, black pepper, and half of tomato paste in a large bowl.
Mix water, lemon juice, remaining tomato paste, and tablespoon of garlic in separate bowl.
Lay one layer of onion rings and tomato slices in pot.
Lay one grape leaf vein side up with the top of the leaf pointing away from you, place about 2 tsp of filling at the bottom of the leaf (make it kind of like an oval). Turn the leaf up one turn away from you (rolling the leaf around the filling). Fold the sides in, and roll the leaf up to the top. Place the leaf seam side down in the pot.
Continue rolling remaining leaves and packing them tightly in the pot.
When you have made one layer, sprinkle the layer with some of the sauce.
Add a layer of onion rings and tomato slices on top, followed by another layer of grape leaves and more sauce on the top. Continue until all the leaves have been filled.
Make sure you have enough liquid to cover the leaves in the pot (you may need to add more water).
Put a heavy heat proof plate on the top of the leaves, cover pot, and bring to simmer for 50-60 minutes.
Carefully remove the leaves from the pot, using tongs.
The original recipe called for a 1000g jar of grape leaves, but I used a 454g (2 lb) jar and had enough leaves to use all of the filling.
I've never had stuffed grape leaves before. This year, I am definitely looking to branch out my culinary skills a bit more. This book also sounds like a plus 🙂 I haven't tried out Book of the Month but it keeps popping up and I think, eventually, I am going to cave. Great review!


It was a good one this week - the stomach bug may have made me feel awful last week, but it did give me a bit of compensation, in the form of a 3.5lb loss this morning, taking my total weight loss to 23lbs. I was thrilled. It feels like I've really kick started myself. I'm being good, 100% on plan, and eating lots of vegetables. All I need to do now is keep this going.
your blog. I am bookmark your blog for future visit.


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Tag: State of Necessity
Review – ATME – State of Necessity – by Progradar
"If you want to experience a deep journey into sound, ATME is a band you are looking for."
Well, that's quite a strapline isn't it? Definitely enough to get me intrigued but, first, more about Poland's ATME from the Press Release:
"ATME was founded in 2011 in Wrocław, Poland. The band consists of four friends and integrated personalities crafting their own musical language mostly by improvisation during rehearsals and concerts.
"We like to leave our comfort zones in search of our own unique sound and character, the best way is by putting ourselves in a state of being here and now and just letting the music flow through us" – states ATME's guitarist Piotr Guliński.
The stories behind their songs are the result of observation of the world and people. Lyrics discuss issues concerning the existence, spiritual development and psychology of the human mind.
"Music needs to be alive, to interact with us, people and the world around us, it needs to breathe" – says vocalist Luke Pawełoszek."
Along with Piotr and Luke, ATME's line up is completed by Adrian Nejman – bass and Paweł Zborowski – drums & percussion. ATME's sound can be associated with some of the works from bands like Tool, Led Zeppelin, Budgie, Opeth, Mastodon, Perfect Circle or Faith No More, while still maintaining an identity of their own.
So, big shoes to step in but step into them they do. The band's debut release 'State of Necessity' is a dark and powerful statement of intent shot through with some quite beautiful moments of light and lucidity. There is a touch of jazz to opening tracks Worthy of Pity and Pleasure Box that does give a feel of Faith No More to the music, if Faith No More had spent a few days locked in a dark dungeon with Satan himself that is.
For this is a very dark album in places, deliciously dark in fact, the guitar riffs feel like they have come from the darkest recesses of the Earth and the obsidian drumbeat is hewn out of solid rock. There's no comfort zone here, just the stylish, raw musical sound of a band crafting their own musical language and forging their own unique sound. Be it the grunge-heavy groove of the fabulous Trickster or the hard-rock-fest of the riotous ten minutes of Interrupted Call, like Led Zep on some serious acid, this band have crafted some seriously impressive tracks.
Through it all Luke's impressively world weary and gravelly vocal drives things along, accompanied by that superb sound from Piotr's memorable guitar and the truly heavy rhythm section of Adrian and Pawel. There are rare moments of calm within this thunderous musical storm of an album, moments that concentrate your thoughts on what is coming next, Pecto Dril, which will rock you like the proverbial hurricane, or (un)cut Thoughts with its more cerebral moments, either is a force of nature.
The album closes with the monster Hotel of the Transfiguration, a near ten minute journey into the soul of the beast and one of the best prog metal/hard rock/grunge tracks you'll hear this year, this truly is the primeval sound of the earth at its elemental core.
Well, if you want a complete heavy mind-f*ck of an album that will, literally, blow you away but one that is full of intelligence and incisive songwriting then you need look no further than ATME's brilliant debut 'State of Necessity'.
Released 16th December 2017
Order the album from bandcamp here
Posted on 25th September 2018 25th September 2018 Categories Album Reviews, ReviewsTags Adrian Nejman, ATME, Luke Pawełoszek, Martin Hutchinson, Paweł Zborowski, Piotr Guliński, Progradar, State of NecessityLeave a comment on Review – ATME – State of Necessity – by Progradar

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HomeComicsDC ComicsAction ComicsFirst Look | "Metropolis Doom" beginning in ACTION COMICS #1018
/JC Alvarez
/action comicsFeaturedMetroplis Doomsuperman
First Look | "Metropolis Doom" beginning in ACTION COMICS #1018
The war comes to Metropolis! In the latest arc to shake up the status quo for the Man of Steel, the blockbuster team of Brian Michael Bendis and John Romita Jr. are putting the "action" back in Action Comics!
It's been a banner year for Superman and after taking the major leap to reveal his alter ego/secret identity to the world — in "The Year of the Villain" nonetheless — the greatest hero on the planet has opened up his home town and turned it into Ground Zero! In the upcoming new arc "Metropolis Doom" which launches in Action Comics #1018 and is under the guileful eye of Brian Michael Bendis with art from the legendary John Romita, Jr. the Man of Steel's ever-increasing list of enemies has set their sites on bringing the battle to Superman's home town.
It's going to take Superman along with the combined membership of the Justice League and Young Justice to fend off the takeover of Metropolis from the merciless Invisible Mafia, the nefarious Lex Luthor and his cohorts in the Legion of Doom. This is promising to be on the new year's greatest showdowns as every major DC hero and villain converge in an effort to subvert Superman after his epic revelation. The secret is out and it looks like the Last Son of Krypton's greatest fears has come true — everyone in his circle is a target for revenge!
Here's a "First Look" at the upcoming series arc "Metropolis Doom" appearing in Action Comics #1018 — #1020:
Action Comics #1018 is written by Brian Michael Bendis with art by John Romita, Jr., Klaus Janson, and Brad Anderson. The issue hits stand on January 1 and retail for $3.99.
Tags:action comicsFeaturedMetroplis Doomsuperman
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JC Alvarez
A native New Yorker and avid comic book fan, JC Alvarez is a pop-culture enthusiast engaged in chronicling the diverse perspective of entertainment, genre fandom, and celebrity culture. Happily engaged in the ever-constant speed force!
DC Comics Pull Box For 1-15-2020 (New Comics)
Review: Supergirl #38


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Rajya Sabha MP Aditya Sahu awarded author Deo Kumar
September 26: Deo Kumar, an author of Birhor-Hindi- English Dictionary fulfilling PM Modi's dream to promote National Education Policy,2020- Prof. Aditya Sahu, Rajya Sabha, MP
Under the National Education Policy,2020 for the creation of the Birhor-Hindi-English Dictionary for the conservation of the extinct Birhor language, Deo Kumar, a well-known writer of the country and abroad, was honoured by Rajya Sabha MP Prof. Aditya Sahu with the title of an excellent author.
Under the auspices of Nav Vikas Jagriti Sansthan, Mesra Mr. Amar Nath Choudhary was present on the stage as a special guest in the honour ceremony beside the institution Secretary Lilavati Mahto, Police Station Incharge Bipul Ojha, Meera, Kalicharan, Asha etc. were present on the stage.
The book was released by Padmashri Bulu Imam, and he described this book as a unique publication of the 21st Century. Prof. Mohan K Gautam, Vice-Chancellor of the European University of West and East, Netherlands, said that National Education Policy,2020 has been implemented by the Ministry of Education, Government of India to promote and Birhor language has been included in the language of grave danger by UNESCO. As such, this dictionary should be included in the curriculum. Dr. Netra P. Paudyal, a research scholar from the University of Kiel, Germany, said that the illustrated dictionary written in three languages would not only help Birhor Children to learn their mother tongue but will also help linguists to learn the common vocabulary used by Birhors.On occasion, Aditya Sahu, Rajya Sabha MP, said that big works are done with such efforts. It is a matter of pride for all of us that a young writer of the Capital of Jharkhand State has created a dictionary of an extinct tribe which is proving to be profitable. He is fulfilling PM Modi's dream to conserve the mother tongue of PVTG Birhor to promote National Education Policy, 2020. We wish for a bright future for the writer and to keep shining the name of the state with such works.


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Academy unveils 'sweeping' effort to make the Oscars more diverse
Term limits on voting, and a global initiative to recruit diverse new members
By Samit Sarkar@SamitSarkar Jan 22, 2016, 7:25pm EST
Source The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences
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Amid a weeklong furor over a second consecutive year of Academy Award nominations in which all of the actors were white, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences announced today a "sweeping series of substantive changes" that are designed to increase diversity across the organization.
Starting later this year, the Academy will place a 10-year limit on voting status for all newly admitted members — a significant change to the organization's bylaws that pundits described to Vanity Fair as an unlikely "nuclear option." That decadelong term will only be renewed if the individual has been "active in motion pictures during that decade," the Academy said. A member will receive lifetime voting rights after three 10-year terms, or if they have won or been nominated for an Oscar.
Mad Max: Fury Road, The Revenant lead 2016 Oscar nominations
The Academy said it will apply those standards retroactively to existing members, and anyone who doesn't qualify under the new rules will be relegated to "emeritus" status. Emeritus members of the Academy won't have to pay dues and will still "enjoy all the privileges of membership" except one: They won't be able to vote on the Oscars. It's likely that many of the Academy's 7,000-plus current voters will become emeritus members, like people who have left the filmmaking industry or retired. Under the old rules, people retained voting rights for life once they became members of the Academy.
In addition to changing its membership criteria, the Academy is undertaking an effort to find new members across the globe "who represent greater diversity." That initiative will "supplement the traditional process," in which candidates must be sponsored by two existing members and approved by the Academy's board of governors — a setup that tended to maintain the status quo, in terms of the Academy's relative lack of gender and racial diversity.
The goal of these efforts, the Academy said, is to double the number of women and "diverse members" of the Academy by 2020.
The Academy is also taking steps to make its board of governors more diverse. The organization is immediately adding three seats to the board, and presumably plans to fill those seats with minority individuals. The Academy said it will also add new non-governors to its executive and board committees as a way to give those new members "an opportunity to become more active in Academy decision-making and help the organization identify and nurture future leaders." Cheryl Boone Isaacs, who has served as the president of the Academy since 2013, is the only nonwhite person out of the board of governors' eight officers and 51 governors.
Oscar snubs: With zero minority actors nominated, the Academy needs to fix itself
An investigation by the Los Angeles Times in 2012 found that the 5,765 Oscar voters at the time were nearly 94 percent white and 77 percent male, with a median age of 62. Since then, the Academy has been working to increase diversity by inducting groups of new members that are larger and feature more racial, gender and national diversity. The class of 2015, for instance, numbered 322 new members — the largest ever — and more than 23 percent of them were people of color, according to the Los Angeles Times.
That effort has not had an impact yet. The nominees for the 88th Academy Awards were revealed last Thursday, and since then the Academy has been the target of widespread criticism regarding a lack of diversity — both among this year's selections and the Academy itself. Following the announcement, the #OscarsSoWhite hashtag trended on Twitter, just like it did last year. Stars such as director Spike Lee, actress Jada Pinkett Smith and her husband, actor Will Smith, announced that they will not be attending this year's ceremony. Boone Isaacs released a statement Jan. 19 in which she said she was "heartbroken and frustrated about the lack of inclusion" in the field of nominees.
The 88th Academy Awards will be hosted by comedian Chris Rock. The event will be broadcast live from the Dolby Theater in Los Angeles starting at 7 p.m. ET on Feb. 28.


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Laura Lee Brown, Anne Finney P'97, Pamela Susi, Joan Carter '81 P'15
There have been some exciting changes in your Development Office. Please welcome Pamela Susi as the new Director of Development. Pam brings nearly 20 years of wide-ranging development experience to the team. Staying on as the Director of Stewardship, Anne Finney P'97 is looking forward to another successful year at Oldfields working with Pam and the team!
Prior to Pam's arrival at Oldfields, she worked at Cardigan Mountain School in Canaan, NH, for eight years as the Associate Director of Development, managing the day-to-day operations of a 13-person development office. Additionally, Pam was previously the Associate Director of Alumni Relations and Annual Giving at New Hampton School in New Hampton, NH, and also worked in the Alumni Relations Office at St. Paul's School in Concord, NH, for several years. Pam grew up in Massachusetts and worked in downtown Boston for 10 years at a private trustee and fiduciary company managing the application process for several private foundations and also in the development office of a large Boston-based nonprofit organization. Pam and her family are excited to part of the Oldfields School community and to explore life in Maryland.
Blast from the Oldfields Past!
As Betsy Reardon-Williams, English teacher at Oldfields from 1979-1985, was cleaning out her attic this summer, she found some letters her Oldfields students had written to one another as an assignment in 1982. Thirty seven years later, Mrs. Williams kindly shared the letters with the Alumnae Office who sent the letters to their original authors! Shannon Parker Olson '86 and Dawn Erbe-Francis Irwin '86 enjoyed sharing their letters and reminiscing about their Oldfields days with fellow classmates. Thank you to Mrs. Williams for bringing back some fun memories!
Jacquette McGhee '98 Shows Her
Largeness of Heart
Jacquette McGhee '98 is a frequent visitor to Oldfields, coming back often to share her experiences working for the Department of Homeland Security as a refugee officer. Jacquette explained that Oldfields was her first exposure to an international world that took her beyond her suburban home. When she first met people from other countries, she wondered about the reasons someone would want to leave their country of origin. She began learning about the refugee crisis in the 1990s, and her interest led her to major in international relations at Pepperdine University. She credits boarding school for teaching her how to be independent, a quality she needed upon signing up for the Peace Corps following college. Jacquette shares in her own words why she chose this path and the role Oldfields played in it.
"I have been motivated to 'give back' to society ever since attending the World War II May Program with Mrs. Littlefield. While on the trip, I determined that it was my duty in life to do what I could to protect people fleeing their homes due to events that they could not control. Touring sites in Europe like Normandy, Auschwitz, and Paris, I was able to get a deeper understanding of the importance of sharing the stories of people like Anne Frank. We need to ensure that persecution like she experienced could never happen again. I knew then that I wanted a career of public service, protecting the world's most vulnerable.
For 15 years, I have worked as a refugee officer for the United States Government. I have helped to resettle thousands of refugees from around the world in the United States and other countries by providing them protection through various means. The ability to change someone's life because they fear persecution due to their race, religion, political opinion, nationality, or membership in a social group is the reason I get up every day. The fact that I can help change someone's life by just doing my job is a success story. Oldfields gave me a framework on which to develop Largeness of Heart and set me on the path of community service for the greater good."
Adrienne Mach '82 shares her voice!
Another example of a confident Oldfields girl who has found her voice! Enjoy this video of flight attendant and alumna, Adrienne Mach '82, entertaining her passengers! We will always love you, Adrienne!
Green Wins the Green and
White Challenge!
The Green Team won the Green and White Challenge, raising $295,733, 18% higher than last year! The Whites raised $268,289, 20% higher than last year! (White Team, don't feel too badly—the Whites won the Green and White Cup again for the fourth year in a row.)
A new challenge has begun! Whites, can you beat the Greens this year? Greens, can you hold onto the lead? Make your gift today!
Thanks to each and every one of you for giving back to Oldfields!
Pamela Susi
SusiP@OldfieldsSchool.org
Anne Finney P'97
Director of Stewardship
FinneyA@OldfieldsSchool.org
Joan Carter '81 P'15
Director of Alumnae Affairs
CarterJ@OldfieldsSchool.org
Development Database Analyst
BrownL@OldfieldsSchool.org
©2016 Oldfields School
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Farahdeen Khan | Create your badge
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WHAT CAN ONE PERSON DO?
Portrait of Two Friends by Italian artist Pontormo, c. 1522
What can one person do? Is a question that many people have asked me on and off when troubled by the dismal state of affairs in their life or in the lives of those around them. I have met a number of people who know they want to make a difference but feel entirely helpless in not knowing how to do so. Planning to write an article on the topic, I was mentally preparing points as my youngest cousin, whom I fondly called Kid, and I were rambling at U B City. While billing a pair of shoes at Salvatore Ferragamo, we ran into two of his classmates who insisted that we join them for a coffee at the café in the food court. Thankfully the heat of the fierce summer day had faded and the weather in Bangalore was windy and wonderful. The only available table was by the ramp, out in the open. Once settled, the boys began chatting endlessly of cars, computers, grand prix and a whole lot of other stuff. I sat looking at my cousin who was barely contributing to the conversation but let out a laugh occasionally.
He was this young man of the 21st century. Independent. Who set his own standards and lived according to his own rules. Kindness, sensitivity and energy were part of his nature and at the same time he was incredibly clear about what he wanted out of life and even more clearer about what he didn't. He was someone who would pull up in his Aston Martin and drink a juice by the roadside. And when I'd scold him for it, he'd wear a naughty smile allowing me to read his inner thoughts which would be saying something as clear as he knew how much I loved him and yet he was just fine with what he had done and that I was merely wasting my breath. His first love was athletics. He visited the gym for six days in a week. Indulged in a game of rugby every Saturday and played football on Sunday's. More often than not, he came back bruised and bloody. Seeing him in that state made me squirm with anxiety. One afternoon my patience gave way when he had come home with flesh sticking out of his palms. I was someone who never wanted to enforce my ideas on him simply because I wanted him to learn from his own experience, but this was pushing it a bit too far. When I glimpsed at him with rage he put his hands on my shoulders and spoke most serenely, "I know, big bro, you are hurt and you are justified in being so, but the game is such and I promise to be careful the next time."
Having a lean and muscular body, the most perfect six-pack abs, I always wanted him to flaunt it, but he preferred to wear loose tees that showed off his pecks that I later gathered was his subtle way of turning the women wild. This secret, I stumbled upon, when one of his several female devotees asked me why I put on such boring shirts and not tees like my brother. I had smiled and asked her what difference it had made and she had told me that his loose tees made them all go mad because he had the art of showing just enough for them to want more of him while my shirts left them with no surprise or suspense. I did remember shaking my head and having smiled at the new generation. They sure were far quicker than what we were when we were at their age. I remember the first woman I had had a crush on. I wanted to tell her that I thought she was the most gorgeous woman I had set eyes upon, but by the time I had mustered up the courage, she was with someone else. If only I had had the gumption of today's youth I was certain I would not have been left behind in the 'scoring' affairs that was the theme being discussed now at the table. I observed slight discomfort on my brother's countenance and began flipping through the product catalogue from Louis Vuitton that I had picked up, wanting to give him the impression that he could talk candidly since I was too engrossed in my own world. One of his friend's asked him whether he had had any action lately from the hot babe he had been hanging about with at the college. I took a quick glance at my brother. He looked at me uneasily and said that she was only his good friend. I stood up and announced that I was heading for the restroom as I patted my brother's back on my way out. He smiled, and I noted the tension in his facial muscles had relaxed a little. When I returned to the table, the subject, I gathered, had drifted to what they each intended to do with only one semester left to complete their engineering. While my cousin had decided to go to Africa and work with the UN for six months and then surf for the rest of the year at New Zealand, his classmate was planning to be a bio scientist and the other wanted to do a masters in philosophy hoping to shape the world on his own terms. I smiled silently – we had all gone there before and done all that now, hadn't we?
Wanting another orange juice, I waved for the waiter when I noticed two old women walking down the ramp. The older of the two was holding onto the railing along the ramp and moving forward inch by inch. My brother immediately stood up and with his eyes he gestured to his friends to get up from the chairs. His friends paid no heed, sitting like rocks. Quickly, he moved his chair aside and offered the women our table. The older woman smiled at him lovingly and placed her hand on his head as if to bless him and muttered in her faint voice that they were going to the table next to ours. I turned to the table and saw two old men. No sooner had the women passed; his mates began teasing him that he had overdone it.
"What if she was your grandmother, man?" asked my brother.
"She wasn't my grandmother dude," said one of the boys, mimicking his intonation.
"I don't get it, man," said my brother, with a certain crispness.
"What's there not to get, dude? Only pansies behave courteously, man. Real men are rough and robust," said the other boy.
My brother shook his head and let out a loud laugh.
"I think you're messed up, dude. You need help," said one of the boys.
My brother said nothing, while I detected pity and not shock in his expressions. When his classmates were gone I stared at him cantankerously. He smiled slightly, "I'm least perturbed by the gay talk, big bro," he said calmly; "the word has become a joke these days. I feel people use it as a defence when they cannot be something they want to be," he paused, took a sip of the orange juice I had ordered and continued, "but it's them that I'm worried about. They don't realise that if I were a doctor caught up in the middle of an outbreak I would be disheartened in not being able to help everyone," he stopped and grinned at the passing waiter, "but at the same time I would know that I would do the best I can to those within my reach. While there is no ideal picture of how life ought to be, I think we ought not to feel helpless or ask what one person can do, but just go about doing it. And it's also sad that people think that being modern means losing one's roots or one's manners."
As I watched him speak, my mind floated to the images of the little boy I used to take care of – wipe his mouth when he messed up, draw him out of a brawl when he knew he couldn't fight physically but had the strength mentally, help him clean up when he had fractured his hands. I also realised that we usually look up to people older than us for strength and here I was finding not only answers to my article, but also solace in my own sibling who was ten years younger than me. That's when I remembered that even as a kid he never troubled anyone of us. What made me swell with pride was the fact that he sought jobs to make the pocket money he spent on his friends and women instead of reaching into the family's old wealth. In time I had quite literally found a bit of my soul in him and as much as I tripped on the confident cool dude that he was, I also admired that he was just what anyone would desire to be, modern and yet someone who had not forgotten his roots. I wrapped my arm round his neck and with my elbow on his shoulders we walked to our car, easy and pleased that I had alongside me a proud part of India's future, under whose casual, modern skin was firmly etched the reason and reality of life.
PS – When I sent the piece written above to some of my publisher friends, I was told that it was more like a journal entry. An editor remarked that it was like a writer and not a journalist writing it. Well that was quite obvious – I am not a journalist. Another friend suggested I cite examples of an actor or a sportsperson in order for people to relate to it better, and that's when I thought that I would not want to write about some media hungry, overexposed, money guzzling celebrity who made no difference to me. I would as well write about, say my grandmother, my parents', my siblings, my best friend, my teacher and how their life had had a far greater inspirational impact on my own. I admired my baby brother for being a person who people could relate to for having the ability to speak his mind out knowing full well that it was not his fancy to save everyone's soul but speak what was on his mind because he could never guess when what he was saying would strike a chord with the right minds, at the right moment.
I think we must speak up and make our ideas heard instead of feeling helpless about the state of affairs of the world today. I think we must become the change we want to see.
Prague Castle from Charles Bridge
Prague Church
You haven't seen Prague if you haven't seen love!
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Somerville's ArtBeat Festival 'Pops' Back In-Person This Year
Mita Kataria
Hip-hop band STL GLD will perform at the 2021 ArtBeat Festival. (Courtesy the band and OnTrck Music)
Last year, percussionist and music teacher Marcus Santos performed in a handful of outdoor events the Somerville Arts Council (SAC) was able to organize. With strict social distancing guidelines enforced, the council arranged safe, pop-up performances, Santos recalls, with no prior advertising.
"We just showed up in a place, outdoors," Santos said, "everybody's wearing masks, everybody's far away, and we'd take the audience we could get."
This year, however, with Massachusetts opening up, bigger gatherings have resumed in-person and so has the ArtBeat Festival, the yearly arts festival organized by SAC.
Santos will perform with his band of 10 drummers, Grooversity, instead of performing alone with a sound system — as he did last year, and he's excited to get back to performing in front of a crowd.
"I hope we'll remember the good old days, somehow," Santos said. "We'll have everybody jumping and sweating and smiling and having a good time just like it was before."
Michael Talbot's "Deja Vu" will show in the art exhibit "This is POP" at the 2021 ArtBeat Festival. (Courtesy the artist)
While the nostalgia of the pre-pandemic normal offers a comfortable cocoon, things are not completely back to the way they were. As a result, the festival this year has shaped up to be a little unconventional.
Rachel Strutt, the cultural director at SAC, noted that they were working with a smaller budget and expected the festival to be half the size it is every year. The preparation of the festival evolved with the state safety guidelines, she said.
What was meant to be a festival spread out over multiple days is now a traditional one-day event in Davis Square on Saturday, July 10. Apart from that, there are many other differences for this year's edition of ArtBeat. Two stages for music have been replaced by one located at Seven Hills Park with mobile performances that will feature musicians performing for everyone around, whether they are there for ArtBeat or simply enjoying a meal at one of the outdoor restaurants.
"We had to shift the way that we curate an event," Strutt said. "Rather than have an open call to artists and musicians that would give people a couple of months to apply, we set up some strategic partnerships."
Crafts coordinator for the festival Heather Balchunas partnered with the Somerville Flea for the crafts of this year's festival. Having already collaborated with them for events in the past, Balchunas says that this time it isn't the SAC but the Somerville Flea curating the crafts for sale, giving 40 vendors the chance to showcase their work at the festival.
"Because this is going to be a hybrid version of ArtBeat, we thought it would be a good way to be able to help support our existing ArtBeat craft vendors and also to support the Somerville Flea," Balchunas said.
After being limited within the confines of the virtual world for more than a year, as people slowly began emerging from behind their screens, SAC, fittingly, decided on this year's theme to be "pop."
"I think people are so hungry to get back to regular life and celebrate arts and community again, so the "pop," kind of, came out of that," Strutt said. "But then, I think there are so many ways you can interpret the theme."
Dancer Emily Bloomenthal (Courtesy Carven Boursiquot)
An art installation, curated by SAC event coordinator Iaritza Menjivar, at the Kenney Park Basketball Court in Davis Square called "This is POP" will showcase visual art from artists Michael Talbot, Cindy Weisbart, Raysa Mederos and Jaina Cipriano. It will encapsulate the theme with vibrant colors and stories of the artists "popping out" of quarantine.
Emily Bloomenthal, a dancer who will perform at the festival, believes the "serendipitous" creation of her piece to be the result of short dance videos she made that popped on Facebook last year. Poet and letterpress printer Heather Hughes wants her art to pop up in people's lives, even when they're not expecting it. She'll be sharing her poetry on posters hung up on telephone poles, business windows and trees.
Performing for a live audience after over a year, Jef Czekaj — like the other artists — is nervous, but is also keen on returning to a sense of community that platforms like ArtBeat foster. He'll be hitting the stage with songs about interesting snippets of Somerville's history. While one of his songs talks about the time when Barack Obama lived in Somerville, another talks about the Old Powder House at Nathan Tufts Park which was once a pickle factory.
Through the past year, artists have been grateful to technology that allowed them to share their art virtually across boundaries. But a resonating sentiment is that of excitement to be able to connect with a live audience again.
For Santos, who wants to promote diversity and use music for social change, the energy of a crowd is pivotal to his pursuit of music or as he likes to call it, "the pursuit of happiness."
"Music's therapeutic," he said. "We can get people to remove their mind from whatever is happening in their lives and bring them to the present for those few minutes that we have together when we're performing."
A Trippy Funhouse Art Installation Invites You To 'Go Pixel Yourself'
Celebrate The Return Of In-Person Theater With These 15 Summer Productions
The Return Of Live Music: 10 Classical Music Festivals To Attend This Summer


text:
from engine.datastore.models.section import IMRaDType
from engine.datastore.ranking.mode import Mode, Area
from engine.utils.objects.word_hist import WordHist

def sections_to_word_hist(sections):
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def paper_to_queries(paper, settings):
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        IMRaDType.BACKGROUND.name: "",
        IMRaDType.METHODS.name: "",
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        IMRaDType.DISCUSSION.name: ""
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    if settings["mode"] == Mode.without_importance_to_sections:
        queries["whole-document"] = paper.get_combined_word_hist().keys_to_query()
        return queries

    if settings["mode"] == Mode.importance_to_sections:
        use_unclassified_chapters = settings["use-unclassified-chapters"] if "use-unclassified-chapters" in settings else False
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            queries["whole-document"] = paper.title_proceed
            queries["whole-document"] += sections_to_word_hist(paper.get_sections_without_an_imrad_type()).keys_to_query()

        queries[IMRaDType.INTRODUCTION.name] = sections_to_word_hist(paper.get_introduction()).keys_to_query()
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        queries[IMRaDType.RESULTS.name] = sections_to_word_hist(paper.get_results()).keys_to_query()
        queries[IMRaDType.DISCUSSION.name] = sections_to_word_hist(paper.get_discussion()).keys_to_query()
        return queries

    if settings["mode"] == Mode.areas:
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        input_imrad_area = __area_to_imrad(input_area)
        search_imrad_area = __area_to_imrad(search_area)

        queries[search_imrad_area.name] = sections_to_word_hist(paper.get_sections_with_imrad_type(input_imrad_area)).keys_to_query()
        return queries

def __area_to_imrad(area):
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    elif area == Area.Background:
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redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


text:
Gas 'N Go, Seeds from a Stem, and Lumberjack's Reward (Or, Of Mystery Dinners and Storytelling)
by The Eye-Dancers in Anecdotes, On Writing Tags: dinner, food, fun, menu, mystery, reading, sci-fi, writing, YA
"So, Michael, what do you think?" my mother asked me. "Do you want to be a waiter?"
I couldn't say with any enthusiasm that I did–even if it was just for one day.
My mother had decided to host a mystery dinner. She invited our neighbors, a few close friends, some friends of friends, not to mention a few relatives. It was going to be a big affair, and she needed all the help she could get.
But I had other ideas. It was summer, the weather had been picture-perfect, with no reason to expect that to change anytime soon. And, at twelve years old, there were many other things I would have rather been doing. Some of the kids in the neighborhood (including my friends who ultimately inspired the main characters in The Eye-Dancers) were setting up a kickball game at a local playground. I didn't want to miss that.
"I could really use your help," Mom went on. "And it'll be fun. When you serve the guests food, they might not have any silverware to eat it with."
Hmm. Things suddenly sounded more interesting! I asked her to tell me more.
Turns out, a mystery dinner was a good time. Who knew? I did decide to serve as a waiter that evening, back in the now-vintage 1980s. My friends gave me guff the next day, informing me I had missed an incredible kickball game, but I told them I'd play in the next one. Even back then, I knew I'd never forget that day, that dinner . . .
The concept of a mystery dinner is simple. Guests are provided a coded menu. There are a set number of courses for the meal. My mother's mystery dinner had ten courses. Her menu had thirty items on it–so, three items were served per course. What really made it interesting, though, was that the dinner guests had no way of knowing what they were ordering. The menu didn't have words like "potatoes, peas, chicken, or water" on it. Rather, it contained cryptic descriptions such as, "gas 'n go," "seeds from a stem," and "lovers cuddle." Seeing that the guests didn't start the dinner out with silverware (forks and spoons and napkins needed to be selected from the menu), it was inevitable that some of them would be served mashed potatoes without a fork or a spoon; or butter without anything to spread it on; or a fork, a stick of celery, and a straw. Each course was an adventure. I remember a lot of laughing that evening.
I also remember the moment when I passed out the menus. As the guests read through the nonsensical items, they questioned what it was they were looking at.
"Wait and see," I told them. "Just make sure you only circle three items at a time!"
Of course, the guests chatted among themselves, trying to figure out the mystery terms. What was a lumberjack's reward? A devil's advocate? How about a degreaser or golden rods? If their subsequent orders were any measuring stick, however, they didn't decode the terms successfully!
At the end of the dinner, many of the guests vowed they would need to throw their own mystery dinner.
"I can't wait to fool my neighbors!" one of our friends said, smiling. "Eating mashed potatoes with a toothpick . . . I'd like to be on the other side of the menu the next time!"
I'm not sure if she ever went on to host a mystery dinner.
But I do know a thing or two about being fooled.
We often think about being fooled as readers. We become engrossed in the plot of a novel, following the course of events, and then–wham! Something happens that we never saw coming, and we feel as though we've been felled by a two-by-four. Sometimes the surprise is troubling, and we may even put the book down without finishing it. How could she have done that? How did he get away with that? No way! But just as often, and probably more so, the surprise is welcome. Predictability, after all, is rarely the hallmark of compelling literature.
But it isn't only reading that oftentimes throws a mystery-dinner-like nugget our way. Writing offers its own collection of surprising twists and developments.
When I begin a new writing project, I usually have a broad outline–not overly detailed, but nevertheless something I can use as a guideline of sorts, a plan designed on the macro-, as opposed to the micro-level. Without such an outline (which is by no means formal; my outlines generally consist of a series of scratchy hand-scrawled notes organized in such a fashion that probably only I can decipher them!), I would feel lost, like a ship at sea without any navigational equipment. On the other hand, if I crafted a super-detailed, point-by-point outline, I would feel stifled, and would run the risk of not allowing the natural creativity of the writing process to flourish midstream.
And that writing-process creativity often strikes at the least-expected times. The muse is nothing if not capricious. For example, as I started writing The Eye-Dancers, it never occurred to me that two of the main characters–Mitchell Brant and Marc Kuslanski–would turn out to be friends. At the start of the book, they were acquaintances, classmates, who rarely spoke to each other. And the fact that they would soon be thrust into a literally otherworldly adventure together didn't mean they would suddenly become kindred spirits. I envisioned them trying to join their heads together to solve their problem, work toward finding a way through the interdimensional void and back home–nothing more, and nothing less. But a funny thing happened along the way.
In chapter 14, on their first morning in the alternate town of Colbyville, Mitchell and Marc chat by the banks of a stream. They discuss their opposing viewpoints on what happened to them and how they ended up in this world on the other side of creation. They bicker, they argue, and . . . they bond. I envisioned the bickering and arguing. But the bonding? Not so much.
Confronted with this, I had a choice to make. Revert back to my original broad outline, which did not include Marc and Mitchell bonding. Or–allow the characters themselves, as they transformed right there on the page, to dictate the course of events. It really wasn't a hard decision. Marc and Mitchell had spoken, outline or no outline! There was a natural give-and-take between these two. In a way I hadn't foreseen, and despite being on the surface polar opposites, they were able to relate to each other. It would not only be a mistake, it would be dishonest to deep-six this organic and spontaneous story development.
The creative process always has surprises in store for us. And while sometimes it may seem chaotic to alter our original plans halfway through, for the most part such changes generally strengthen our works-in-progress, giving them a malleability and integrity they would otherwise lack.
A menu of green beans and mashed potatoes and brown gravy is surely needed to organize thoughts and point the way for a successful literary endeavor. But along the way, don't forget to sprinkle in a dash of lumberjack's rewards, a touch of rolling stones, and a mix of sailor's crumbs.
A Literary Lemonade Stand–Or, An Old Promo with a New Twist
23 Apr 2015 35 Comments
by The Eye-Dancers in Anecdotes, Eye-Dancers General Stuff Tags: childhood, fantasy, food, gift card, gifts, promotion, reading, sci-fi, summer, writing, YA
When I was eleven years old, I had a great (or so I thought) idea for a promotion. School had just let out, and I wanted to earn some spending money for summer vacation. So–I pitched my idea to my next-door neighbor Rick.
"Hey," he said, no doubt visualizing the games and comic books and other assorted sundries his share of the profits might buy, "that sounds great. Count me in!"
There were no two ways about it–Rick, with his sandy hair and dimples, had a face few could resist. His cheeks were perpetually red from the pinches he'd get from adults. With his help, I was sure we'd be a hit.
Our plan? On the upcoming Saturday, we'd set up a stand at the base of his front lawn, strategically shaded by the towering maple tree that grew there like a leafy sentinel. We'd been in the midst of a heat wave. Surely passersby and motorists would stop for a cup of the lemonade we'd offer–both classic and pink! We'd also have apple juice, a sheet cake Rick's mother agreed to make, sliced into two-dozen pieces, and a cooler-full of Popsicles. It was a can't-miss proposition. Rick and I were convinced no two kids had ever been more prepared to run a lemonade stand. We even made signs, complete with the address and date of the event, which we placed at various strategic locations throughout the neighborhood.
We'd charge a quarter a cup for the lemonade and juice, a quarter per Popsicle, and one dollar for each slice of cake. Who would pass that deal up on a sparkling summer day, with the birds singing and the breeze blowing softly through the trees?
The day before our big sale, Rick popped in for a visit and did a "cha-ching" dance–his own, on-the-spot invention. This was greeted with catcalls from my two older brothers, but we were undeterred.
My mother sent us an ominous warning, however.
"It's supposed to rain tomorrow," she said.
Uh-oh. We hadn't even bothered to check the forecast. So much for our sparkling day . . .
Twenty-four hours later, Rick and I were seated behind our lemonade stand–which was not so much the stand we had envisioned but rather the picnic table, complete with umbrella, that my brothers and I had managed to carry out to Rick's front lawn and which now shielded our merchandise from the torrential downpour that would not let up for the entire day.
When all was said and done, we made twelve dollars and change that soggy Saturday–not the fortune we had hoped for.
"Well, at least there's leftover cake," my sister said happily as we cleared the table.
The Eye-Dancers promotion I am offering here will, with hope, prove to be more effective than the lemonade-stand-that-wasn't all those years ago. It's a similar idea to previous promotions on this website, but this time, there is a new twist.
The promo will run from today's date, April 23, through Tuesday, June 30. During this two-month-plus period, anyone who buys a copy of The Eye-Dancers, or who refers the book to someone else (the twist, the strawberry flavoring added to the lemonade! more on this in a moment), will have an opportunity to win a gift card.
If you do purchase a copy of The Eye-Dancers during this promo period (either as a paperback or an e-book), please notify me–either with a comment on this website or via email at michaelf424@gmail.com.
But–what if you've already bought a copy of the book and would still like to participate in the promo? Not an issue! Anyone who refers The Eye-Dancers to a friend, relative, friend of a friend, etc., will also be eligible to win the gift card provided that the friend they refer The Eye-Dancers to buys a copy of the book and then emails me and includes the name of the person who referred them. (I know–that sentence is a mouthful!) In this scenario, both people will be entered into the gift-card contest–the one who referred The Eye-Dancers to someone else, as well as the person who buys the book on the advice of said referral. A two-for-one to enter the gift-card drawing!
I will keep track of each person who buys a copy of the book (as well as those who refer the book to others who then, in turn, buy a copy) during the promotional time period that runs from April 23 through June 30. Then, on July 1, I will randomly select one winner, and will immediately notify them of the good news in an email. The winner will be awarded a gift card–to anywhere! Amazon? Your favorite restaurant? Your favorite department store? The choice will be yours!
The amount of the gift card will be based on the number of overall purchases of The Eye-Dancers during the promo. For each purchase, $3.00 will be earmarked toward the gift card. So, for example, if there are thirty purchases during the promotion, the gift card would be for $90 (30 purchases x $3.00 per purchase). The gift card amount, in other words, will be determined by you! The more purchases, the higher the amount on the gift card.
Please just remember that if you do purchase The Eye-Dancers during the designated period to make sure and contact me so I can enter your name into the gift-card contest. (And if you were referred to the book, and this promo, by someone else and then buy a copy of The Eye-Dancers, please let me know who referred you as well.)
You can buy The Eye-Dancers as an e-book at the following online retail locations . . .
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/The-Eye-Dancers-ebook/dp/B00A8TUS8M
B & N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-eye-dancers-michael-s-fedison/1113839272?ean=2940015770261
and Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/books/The-Eye-Dancers/nKFZETbWWkyzV2QkaJWOjg?MixID=nKFZETbWWkyzV2QkaJWOjg&PageNumber=1
Or, if you prefer a hardcopy format, the paperback version of The Eye-Dancers is available for purchase . . .
at Amazon, http://www.amazon.com/The-Eye-Dancers-Michael-S-Fedison/dp/0692262784/ref=tmm_pap_title_0/190-9007348-1553839
and at CreateSpace, https://www.createspace.com/4920627
I hope you'll stop by and take a sip from this literary lemonade stand!
Short Story — "Jump"
31 Jan 2014 40 Comments
by The Eye-Dancers in Short Stories Tags: doubt, fear, fiction, food, insecurity, Love, relationships, shopping, short stories, short story, writing
The Eye-Dancers is, at its heart, a coming-of-age story for the main characters–Mitchell Brant, Joe Marma, Marc Kuslanski, and Ryan Swinton. Journeying through a strange and distant world, each boy must confront, and overcome, the self-doubts that have always held him back.
In the short story "Jump," which I wrote approximately one year before beginning The Eye-Dancers, the protagonist must face a similar nagging self-doubt. A strange, unforeseen warning in a supermarket threatens to trip up the plans he's made after wrestling with his fears and insecurities. Can he learn from the failures of his past and slay the demons that, far too often, have held him back from pursuing his dreams?
I hope you enjoy "Jump."
"Jump,"
Copyright 2014 by Michael S. Fedison
The young man with the long black hair stared at Joe.
"You know," he said, his head tilting to the side, as if he were pondering the mystery of the universe, "you better stay home tomorrow."
Joe blinked, tried to reorient himself. What was going on? He'd been browsing the boxed desserts in the baking aisle, thinking of a sweet treat he'd enjoy making that evening. A few customers walked by, nothing out of the ordinary. But then this kid—he couldn't have been more than twenty—had strolled up to him. He didn't have a shopping cart, and apparently wasn't here to buy anything.
Joe stood behind his grocery cart, instinctively using it as a buffer. He eyed the products he'd placed in the cart already—too many carbs and sweets, as always—and he felt a mark of shame rise to his cheeks. The kid before him was fit and trim. He probably thought Joe, who was thirty-five pounds overweight and gaining, was a heart attack waiting to happen. Still, that didn't explain why he'd approached him.
"What are you talking about?" Joe asked. He pushed his cart further down the aisle, hoping the kid might take the hint and leave him alone.
"Look," the young man said, brushing greasy bangs from his eyes, "just stay home tomorrow, all right? It's weird. I mean, I get these feelings, man, you know? And when I just spotted you now, I got a feeling. Real strong and clear."
Oh boy. He was dealing with a nutcase here. Either that or someone with a perverse sense of humor who had too much time on his hands. He wheeled his cart into the next aisle. Chips and soda. Great. As if he needed more junk food in his cupboards. A middle-aged blonde woman sped by, smelling of Chanel no. 5.
"A feeling?" he said. Dumb. Real dumb. Why engage in conversation with this kid?
"Yeah," the kid said. "Like, I mean . . . I don't know, you know? Sometimes my feelings aren't so specific. But this one was powerful, man. Like a punch to the gut. It's like this. If you leave your house tomorrow, I mean, like, if you even just like step outside, something'll happen to you. Something bad."
He stopped, his hands tightly gripping onto the cart handle. Was this more than just a coincidence? Did this kid know Janine? Had he caught word of what Joe intended to do? But that was impossible. He hadn't told a soul about his plans.
Still, this was too weird. He didn't need this. He was nervous enough about tomorrow already.
He got moving again, ignoring the kid.
"Hey! Don't you get it? I'm trying to help you. I'm not getting anything out of telling you this, you know. It's just, like, I'm trying to warn you, y'know? Just being a good Samaritan, that's all."
A young couple stopped their cart a couple of feet away. The man reached for a bag of pretzels, while the woman wrinkled her nose but said nothing.
"If you want to be a good Samaritan, why don't you just go on your way?" Joe said. He didn't want to come off as rude, but enough was enough.
The kid shrugged. "Okay. Just remember what I said. About tomorrow. By Sunday, you should be good to go. But tomorrow, man, lock your doors and stay inside."
With that, he walked away.
The woman who had wrinkled her nose at the pretzels eyed his retreating figure, then looked at Joe.
He almost blurted out, "I don't know him, don't look at me!" But he just glanced away and pushed his cart down the aisle.
Joe sat on his couch, looking out the window as darkness fell over the neighborhood. He'd just finished supper, and he had gone all out, just as he'd planned. Lasagna with a zesty marinara sauce and fresh-baked Italian bread, followed by a lemon pound cake for dessert. He felt like he'd gained five pounds since morning. The food did nothing to still his nerves, though.
He wished Janine were here. He could always talk to her, tell her feelings he could never share with anyone else. But she was visiting a sick girlfriend tonight, on the other side of town. Besides . . . she wouldn't be the one to confide in about this, anyway. He was planning to surprise her, after all. Tomorrow. He sighed, and slunk back into the couch.
The TV was on—a meaningless late-season baseball game, with half the players from both sides having recently been called up from Triple-A. He was hoping for a diversion, he supposed. Something to take his mind off tomorrow, off the troublemaker at the grocery store. But nothing worked.
"You're such an idiot," he said aloud, just as the twenty-two-year-old first baseman on the television grounded into an inning-ending double play. "Get over it. That punk doesn't know you, doesn't know Janine. It was just a fluke, that's all. A coincidence."
Maybe it was, but it nagged him. Why did this have to happen now? Of all the tomorrows in his life, why was he cautioned about this one? The one where he planned on making the boldest, most challenging decision of his life. Was the young man, with his uncanny warning, trying to tell him not to go through with it? Not to take the chance?
"That's stupid," he said, just as the last commercial ended and the ballgame started up again. He had wrestled with this decision for months, painstakingly going through the pros and cons, trying to overcome his fears. He had finally built up the courage. How could he let a stranger's sick sense of humor or pathological need to create a stir get to him like this?
"I guess maybe they were right," he said. "Those kids. Maybe I'm just chicken. Always hesitating. Always reluctant to take the . . . "
" . . . jump! Let's jump it!"
They were standing at the edge of a gash in the dirt road. It was about three-and-a-half-feet wide. The only way to cross was to jump. To the left, a steep, wooded hillside blocked the way. It would have been nearly impossible to navigate. To the right, the remains of the road abruptly fell away to a rushing stream, which thrashed its way through boulders, pieces of twisted metal, and fallen tree limbs.
"Wow," Joe said, more to himself than the others. "Look at this."
The two boys with him shrugged.
"You should've seen it last year, just after it happened," the taller boy, Bobby Hartstock, said. "They cleaned it up since then. This is nothing anymore."
Joe swallowed, listening to the stream speed along on its course. It was water, the destructive power of water, that had turned this section of road into the impassable mess he saw now. He hadn't been here when it happened, last fall. His parents had just moved to the area a few weeks ago. But he'd heard the stories. About the storm, the flood, and the road that got washed away. Still, hearing about it and seeing it were two different things.
What they were standing on, in fact, could hardly be classified as a road. The entire right side was gone. This stretch of the road was now a narrow footpath. Bobby and the other kid, Peter Collins, stood next to each other, in front, and Joe stood close behind them. There wasn't enough room for the three boys to stand together, side by side. If one of them took just a couple of steps to the right, he would fall off the edge. Where the road had been, only a ragged, steeply sloping ravine remained. Rusty outflow pipes jutted out like sawed-off knives. The guardrail, which had once hugged the right side of the road, protecting motorists from the thirty-foot plunge to the fast-flowing, rock-filled stream below, was suspended in midair, hanging there like a dying snake. It was hard for Joe to believe that a real road had been here, just a year ago. It hardly seemed imaginable. The only saving grace was that no homes had been hit. This stretch of road wound through uninhabited forests and meadows. Joe's new neighbors had told his mom that it had been used as a shortcut before the storm. Residents doubted that the road would ever be repaired. Too much money involved, and not enough justification to fix it.
"So, you wanna see more?" Bobby asked. He had turned around to look at Joe. He and Peter Collins lived a few houses down from him. They had seen him walking alone one evening, and joined him. School had just started, too. And they were his first friends since moving here. He was thankful for that. He didn't make friends easily, and starting ninth grade in a new town was challenging enough, without the additional pressure of finding people to hang around with.
"I don't know," Joe said. "How can we?"
Peter rolled his eyes. "You just gotta jump, that's all!" He motioned to the gash in the road, the one that blocked their forward progress. It lay there like an open wound. The drop was fifteen, maybe twenty feet. There were small stones mixed with broad-shouldered boulders at the bottom, before they fell away to the right, toward the slope that led to the stream.
"What's up ahead?" Joe wanted to know.
Bobby smiled. "It's even better up ahead! The road goes up higher, and the drop to the stream is awesome up there! C'mon. Let's go."
Without a moment's hesitation, Bobby leaped across the gash. Joe closed his eyes, afraid that he might trip or stumble on a small rock, and then fall, headfirst into the hole. But when he dared to look again, all he saw was Bobby standing on the other side, waving for Peter and Joe to follow. Peter did. He made it seem easy, just like jumping over a kid's dirt hole in the backyard or playing a game of hopscotch in the neighborhood.
Joe walked to the lip of the hole. He knew it was his turn.
Bobby cleared his throat. "Well?"
He looked up, as if trying to garner the courage. A crow flew overhead, cawing loudly, its voice echoing down like an accusation. Joe wished he could sprout wings and follow that crow, over the hillside, clear across to the other side of the valley.
He noticed all the loose rocks, the strewn pebbles and fallen leaves. So many things that might cause him to trip and fall, just as he readied himself to jump. He didn't want to fall down that hole. If he landed on those boulders, they would—
"C'mon, are you coming or not?" Peter said. "We don't got all day, Joe."
"Um." He knew he couldn't jump. And he hated himself for it.
"Whatsamatter? You chicken?" It was Bobby. "A little girl could jump that hole, Joe. Don't be a wuss."
He started to sweat, then. He could feel his shirt sticking to his skin, despite the late September chill. He was stuck. Found out. There was no place to run.
"Geez, I thought you were different," Peter said.
Bobby shook his head, and the boys turned to walk away, further up the road. They turned a corner, and were gone. They hadn't even looked back at him.
"Wait," he croaked, to the air, to the hardy insects of early fall, the ceaselessly rushing stream below. "Wait."
But all he did was stand there, stranded, unable to follow, unable to . . .
" . . . jump. Sometimes, you just have to step out in faith and take a chance, you know, Joe?"
He knew, and he knew she was right. Janine usually was. But how could he make such a commitment? How could he know it would all work out?
They were sitting on her sofa, in the apartment she had rented uptown. It was February, and snow was falling like fluffy popcorn from chalkboard-gray clouds. He had known Janine for over two years now. They met at work. He had been new to the city, didn't know anyone. She bumped into him, literally, in the narrow hallway that spanned the front of the building. He blushed, stuttered, but, miraculously, she had invited him to join her for lunch. He did. Then he fell in love with her.
But what she was asking of him now . . .
"Look, I know your mom and dad split up." They had. His first year of college, his mom had called him in his dorm room, crying. Dad had walked out on her. After twenty-five years, he just walked away without an explanation. Joe always thought they were happy together. If his parents couldn't make it, who could? "But you're not you're father, Joe. We're not them. Or any other couple who's broken it off. We're us. Can't you see that?"
"Yes." The sofa cushions felt soft on his back, too soft, as though they were trying to suck him in, trap him. He leaned forward.
"Joe, you know I love you."
He looked at her. The beautiful blue eyes, close to tears. The long brown hair. It amazed him all the time that she could love him. But she did. He never doubted that.
"And you love me, don't you?"
"Of course I do. But I . . . I need a little more time. I'm just not sure if I can . . ."
She got up then, looked out the window into the white heart of the snow. She stayed like that for minutes. It felt to Joe like hours. Finally, she turned around.
"I don't want to be with anyone else, Joe, you know that. But I can't be expected to wait forever. I'm not trying to rush you. I'll give you more time, if you think you need it. But . . . I won't wait forever. You know I want to have a family. You know. . . ."
He nodded. He wanted to say something, to comfort her, encourage her with his words. But he didn't. He couldn't.
All he could do was get up, walk to her, and take her into his arms. Neither of them said another word, while, outside, silently, ceaselessly, the snow continued to fall.
That had been eight months ago. Janine hadn't brought the topic up again, but he knew she was thinking about it. There was an expectation about her, a hope, an unspoken pressure she was exerting.
He flicked off the baseball game—it wasn't helping him to get his mind off himself. It was just background noise, making it hard to think.
This wasn't just about Janine, or that old wrecked road twenty years ago. All his life he had taken the path of least resistance. Even with his profession. He was an accountant. That's how he lived his life, too. Always calculating, weighing the debits and credits, wanting things to be sure and safe before daring to step forward.
There was the baseball team in high school. He wanted to try out for the squad. He'd practiced his pitching with his dad every day that spring. But when the time came to sign up, he skulked away. He didn't want to fail. Didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of the other players. Besides, maybe he wasn't even any good.
In college, his English professor had encouraged him to enter his essay on the poetry of John Donne into the Mills Award Contest, which awarded a prize of one hundred dollars to the student who turned in the best written document of the academic year. But Joe never submitted his essay.
There were the girls he liked in school, but never asked out. The friends he would have liked to make, but whom he never approached. The words he had always left unspoken for the people who mattered to him. The opportunities, the chances that had always been there for him, but which he had never taken.
He was tired of it all. Last night, as he lay there in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he had made up his mind.
He would go to the jewelry shop, buy an engagement ring. And then he would go to Janine, look her in the eyes, drop down to one knee, and ask her to marry him. He loved her. And he wasn't going to throw it all away because he was afraid. He was going to take the jump. Tomorrow.
But then the kid at the grocery store had to come and throw a wrench into things. Was there something to his warning? What did he know? Was Joe making a mistake? Should he reconsider?
"Oh, just shut up!" he yelled. But the thoughts would not stop. They came at warp speed. Don't leave the house tomorrow! Don't buy the ring. What if she says no? What if she marries you, but then leaves you for another guy? You're so boring, she probably will. What if she jilts you at the altar? It's happened before. Lots of times.
In self-defense, he turned on the baseball game again, just in time to see a pop fly to right field end the inning. Restless, he strolled into the kitchen, poured himself a cup of coffee, took a sip. He knew that sleep was far off. Might as well give himself a jolt of caffeine.
He didn't even attempt to go to bed. He just half-sat, half-laid down on the couch. At some point, deep in the bowels of the night, he nodded off. When his eyes reopened a short while later, he saw that dawn had arrived. Tomorrow had come. His moment of decision was at hand.
He opened the front door. Sunlight smote him in the face, and he closed his eyes. In his mind he could hear the kid from the store: "If you leave your house tomorrow . . . something'll happen to you. Something bad."
Since waking up, he had wrestled further with his decision, hemmed and hawed. In the end, though, he knew he had to go through with it. He wasn't sure if the kid's warning was Fate's way of attempting to hold him back, scare him off. But it didn't matter. Not anymore. He was through running away.
The threshold was right in front of him. He knew that as soon as he stepped over it, there would be no return. This was a one-way trip.
He was surprised at the unease he felt. He thought, once he had made his mind up, the doubts would pass away. But they hadn't.
He looked past the threshold, and there, right in front of him, was the old destroyed road, with the three-and-a-half-foot-wide gash. The gash came right up to the threshold. The only way outside would be to jump over it.
He blinked several times, trying to rid himself of the illusion. But it wouldn't go away. Just the opposite, in fact. Each time he looked, the details of the road became clearer, clearer. The fallen leaves, the pebbles and stones waiting to trip him up, the guardrail off to the side, floating in midair like some broken metallic arm. He could even hear the rushing stream below.
Resigned, he understood. There could be no avoiding it. It had to be this way.
He took a deep breath. Stepped on to the threshold. Looked into the hole, at the boulders and sharp, jagged rocks waiting to cripple him if he should stumble and fall.
For a brief moment, he thought of turning away, retreating into the safe refuge of his home, and closing the door. But he didn't.
"Here goes nothing," he said.
He jumped.


text:
K3 < Ki
Thus, again from equation (2), it follows that those parts of the solute band containing high concentrations of solute will move more rapidly through the column than those parts of the solute band that contain low concentrations of solute. The resulting elution curve will take the form of that shown in figure (3c). This peak shape is often called an adsorption peak, this term arose during the development of GC and is not really an appropriate term for use In LC.
The major cause of peak asymmetry In LC Is sample overload and this occurs mostly in preparative and semi preparative LC. There are two forms of sample overload, volume overload and mass overload. Volume overload results from too large a volume of sample being placed on the column and this effect will be discussed later. It will be seen that volume over load does not, In itself, produce asymmetric peaks unless accompanied by mass overload. Mass overload which, as discussed above, is accompanied by a distortion of the normally linear isotherm, can cause very significant peak asymmetry and, in fact, seriously impair the resolution obtained from the column.
Column Efficiency
It has already been stated that, in order to achieve the separation of two substances during their passage through a chromatographic column, the two solute bands must be moved apart and, at the same time, must be kept sufficiently narrow so that they are eluted discretely. It follows, that the extent to which a column can constrain the peaks from spreading will give a measure of its efficiency. It is, therefore, desirable to be able to measure the peak width and obtain from it, some value that can describe the column performance.
Because the peak will be Gaussian in form, the peak width at the points of inflexion of the curve (which corresponds to twice the standard deviation of the curve) will be determined. At the points of inflexion (2),
+e vn(n-l)v^n_2)
dv'
e vv(p-2^(v2
(v - 2nv + n(n-1))
Thus, at the points of inflexion,
Hence, v2-2 nv + n(n-l) = 0 and
2n�V(4n2-4n(n-D)
It is seen that the points of inflexion occur after n- Vn and n+ Vn plate volumes of mobile phase has passed through the column. Thus the volume of mobile phase that has passed through the column between the inflexion points will be,
Thus the peak width at the points of inflexion of the elution curve will be 2Vn plate volumes which, in milliliters of mobile phase will be obtained by multiplying by the plate volume i.e.,
The peak width at the points of inflexion of the elution curve is twice the standard deviation and thus, from equation (3) it is seen that the variance (the square of the standard deviation) is equal to (n), the total number of plates in the column. Consequently, the variance of the band (o2) In milliliters of mobile phase is given by,
Now,	o2 = n(vm + Kvs)2
n + Vn-n+Vn = 2Vn
Peak Width = 2-/n(vm + Kvs)
Vr = nCvmg + Kvs)
it follows, that the variance of the peak is inversely proportional to the number of theoretical plates in the column and the larger the number of theoretical plates, the more narrow the peak, and the more efficiently the column has constrained the band dispersion. As a consequence the number of theoretical plates in a column is given the name Column Efficiency. It is, therefore, important to be able to measure the efficiency of any column and this can be carried out in a very simple manner Let the distance between the injection point and the peak maximum (the retention distance on the chromatogram) be � cm and the peak width at the points of inflexion be x cm
A Chromatogram Showing the Separation of Two Solutes
Then as the retention volume is n(vm + Kvs) and twice the peak stanaara deviation at the points of inflexion is 2Vn(vm + Kvs),
Ret.Distance � n(vm+Kvs) Vn men'	PeakWidth ~x_2Vn(vm+Kvs)~ 2
Equation (5) allows the efficiency of any solute peak, from any column, to be calculated from measurements taken directly from the chromatogram. The various characteristics of the chromatogram that have so far been considered are shown in figure (5) which is an extension of the chromatogram shown in figure (3) In Chapter 2.
The Position of the Points of Inflection
Since the measurement of efficiency is important for evaluating the quality of a column, it is necessary to know the position of the points of inflection in order to measure the peak width. The inflection points are ill defined on the chromatogram and it is necessary to know at what fraction of the peak height they occur. This fraction will be the same as the ratio of the value of the solute concentration after (n - Vn) plate volumes of mobile phase has passed through the column, to the solute concentration after (n) plate volumes of mobile phase has passed through the column.
Thus, if (f) is the fraction of the height (h) at which the points of inflection occur,then (3),
f _ xm(n-/n)
Now,lfX<<l,	l0ge(,_x) = _x.^j^j?