My dad taught me many things. He taught me that if you had enough duct tape, you could fix anything, and if you had enough extension cords, you could plug in anything anywhere. He taught me that each day, you should do three things: take care of your responsibilities, do something for someone else a

Art plays a key role in America, from the cover itself to the illustrations on the inside. My awareness of this role was heightened during a recent visit to Abraham House, an organization in the Bronx that assists prisoners with their reintegration into the community. At the same time, it provides a

Last Saturday my eighth-grade son took the Catholic high school entrance exam as part of the process of applying to the three local Catholic high schools that he is interested in attending next year. He took five pencils with him, though they suggested he bring two. His best friend brought a Power B

Turning 70—what a thought! And yet here I am on that very threshold. In fact, though, a friend pointed out to me that having celebrated my 69th birthday, I had already begun my 70th year. Rita’s explanation came as something of a double whammy, like having to deal with reaching 70 twice.

When my father passed through the gates of Ellis Island as a boy, the life that awaited him would be new and exciting yet fated with a grinding scarcity. For decades, all Dad had to show for it was hard work, more hard work and very little money. Still, before he knew it, this once faceless immigran

According to the U.S. Department of Justice, 20 percent of America’s two million prison inmates are mentally ill. Take a moment to reflect upon that fact. In the land of the free and the home of compassionate conservatism, there are 400,000 men and women who are so obviously and unavoidably de