“Our elders will read this story and remember their young lives and imagine returning to their homes. Our young people will ask many questions about how life used to be in Bhutan when parents and grandparents told folk stories to the children. The Bhutanese Community of New Hampshire was pleased to advise New Hampshire Humanities in the creation of this bilingual tale. We hope it enriches and supports the lives of ethnic Nepali Bhutanese people in our new home.”
How is free speech different in schools from in the public square, and how should schools deal with the complexities of speech and expression? In 1965, siblings John and Mary Beth Tinker wore armbands to school to protest the Vietnam War. After being suspended and suing their school district, the U.S.
Ongoing soil degradation, a changing climate, and increasing population has stripped our soil of nutrients and left us on a vulnerable planet. What do our current agricultural practices say about us both individually and collectively?
When Richard Rubin spoke about the last of the World War I “Doughboys” in Warner in June, audience member Nancy Brown wrote to us:“Mr. Rubin was an exceptional speaker. It became very apparent how passionate Mr. Rubin was about World War I and the devastation to the Argon area. I was mesmerized by his talk.”
At the NH Correctional Facility for Women in Goffstown, a small group of women in red t-shirts and sweatshirts in a gray room with a gray floor were writing the U.S. Constitution by hand. Linda Graham, facilitator in the New Hampshire Humanities Connections adult literacy program, had given everyone a copy from PrintableConstitution.com.
New Hampshire Theatre Project (NHTP) was created in 1988 with a mission to change lives through theatre. Outreach has always been important, including touring productions like Dreaming Again, the play commissioned by New Hampshire Humanities about immigrants in our state.
Twenty-four years at New Hampshire Humanities – so many wonderful memories! I’d like to offer a few of them on the eve of my departure, but in shorthand because each memory is a story that’s too long to fit here.