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Aly Nussear, a Morningside physical education teacher, started the triathlon team last year and by spring had 57 kids competing in the swim, bike, run competition.
I could easily say that, with sports, my parents’ model of loving detachment was good enough for me, so it’s good enough for my kid. But I can’t deny there’s a system in place that measures a parent’s love for her child by how often that parent shows up. The kids didn’t create this system. We did.
Words are one thing, photographs another. In the 25 years I’ve been in journalism, I’ve learned that though a lot of people are willing (grudgingly) to talk to reporters, and maybe even let them tag along for a few days as they go about their lives, letting a photojournalist do the same thing is a different story. Because good photos often require getting up in people’s faces.
My son is a constant loop in my thought track. My son is the boy you can hear from outside the house or from the other room, making sounds that seem to have no form. My son is quiet, sometimes for hours at a time. My son spends most of his time inside, in his wheelchair or on the floor, watching movies, listening to music or stories, playing with me.
My daughters are three and six years old, and today I had to face them.
Play in the snow, ooh and ahh at holiday lights, get an up-close look at one of the rarest books in the world, and more
The Atlanta Botanical Garden recently opened phase one of its new and improved Children's Garden, the first overhaul since the it originally opened in 1999. Here's what you'll see when you visit.