Ann Arbor — A panhandler on the sidewalk. Someone holding a sign at an intersection. This is probably what comes to mind when thinking of so

With every season of life and every level of growth, it seems a reconciliation of our understanding and use of power is required.

Now that I’m in my sixth decade of life, I can admit to my unique habit of hoarding. Except for a couple of things, I finally stopped in my

Writer, Tash Moore Westlake is a long way from Oak Park, Michigan. It’s a neighborhood that skirts downtown Los Angeles and has become...

By Kenedi Dubose This is the story of a boy named John Carter. John was born and raised in Harlem, New York. His family enjoyed the...

The door takes a few moments to open. I hold the handle with one hand, shaking the key in the lock with the other, trying to manage the...

It is August 1854 in Detroit, MI. Twelve-year-old Willie studies his school lessons and works as a delivery boy at the bakeshop owned and...

In June of this year, I fulfilled a long-time dream and goal to move to Atlanta, Georgia.  It was with mixed emotions that I left Detroit...

In March, 2004, I was in my last semester of graduate school in New York City. I was working full time in a record store and as a deejay...

Riding my bike along Jefferson the other day, I took note of all the streets named for early French and British landowners, and I...

I gave birth to my daughter April 8, 1996.  I was 13 years old, in the 8th grade at Joy Middle School. Yes, it really was the first time...

Jane Dabish was born in Southfield to a Chaldean family.  She spent her childhood down in her parents’ basement playing out stage...