text:
	The writing on the wall was scribbled in a way that looked as if it was done by a toddler scurrying along with a marker doing something they know shouldn't be done. Only the writing on his wall was done it paint and was up higher then a toddler could reach. And what toddler could break into a house mid-afternoon while they should be tucked in for their after-lunch nap? This was done by someone much older and much more frightening then a toddler. This was done by someone with intent.
	The writing read: 'I know who you are …
				I know what you have …
				       I want it.'
	The last period was made with a glob of the paint that dripped down the wall.
	He stood in place and looked at the writing for some time. He tried to search his mind to find any answers as to who could have done this but came up with none. He knew who he was and the vandal claimed to know as well, but Josh seriously questioned whether whoever did this had the right man. He held nothing of value. Hell, he had just moved back to this country a few months ago and the house was still bare, it was a new purchase. The most expensive thing in here, as far as he knew at least, was the flat-screen downstairs. He took out his phone and snapped a picture of the wall and sent it to his friend Mike. Maybe it was just one of those fucked up pranks a friend pulls, the kind that only they find funny. Mike was the only one with a spare set of keys. Most of his friends and all of his family lived a thousand miles away so there could be no relatives playing a practical joke on him. It was Mike. It had to be Mike. He was the only one who could get in. If it wasn't him, then who else?
	His phone buzzed; it was a text from Mike.
	'Aha. What's that man? Looks like the beginning to a bad murder show.' The message read.
	 Is he just holding off and waiting for me to ask? He thought, or does he really not know?
	His pride told him to put the phone back in his pocket; it's Mike, a voice said, it's Mike. He stared at the message and glanced up to the wall again. Still scared stiff, the rational part of his brain was telling him it was Mike but the irrational side was screaming, RUUNN!!,  eventually, he tapped the message box and typed. He valued his life more then he valued his friends laughter. He sent the message, but still couldn't move.
	A few minutes passed and he still stood there, in the same position he was when he walked into this thing, whatever it is, then his phone buzzed; it was Mike.
	'No Bro. It wasn't me. Just got out of work. Call the cops man. That's some fucked up shit.'
	Your not wrong on that, Josh thought looking down at his phone. He didn't know where to go from here. Clearly now the police needed to be called. Mike wouldn't take it that far. He wouldn't allow him to call the cops on a foolish prank that he had pulled. Sometimes he had a tenancy to be an asshole, what friends don't, but no one would take it that far.
	He dialed 9-1-1 and that's when he heard the first footstep.
	“Nine-one-one. What's your emergency?” a monotone voice answered.
	He waited, trying to hear the noise again. It came from the stairs just by the kitchen, no more then ten feet from where he now stood.
	“Hello? Sir? Madame?” the voice said again.
	“ … Uh … ahh … I came home to find some threatening messages written on my walls. I was” –  a step creaked and Josh inhaled deeply and thought he was going to pass out. He slowly began to slide to the right to get as close to the door as he could.
	“Hello? Sir? Are you there?”
	“Y-y-yea … can you send someone. Now. Please,” he was almost whispering now and still edging toward the door.
	“What's your address sir?”
	“It's –,” the last creak was heard, it sounded more like a snap!, and a man up leaped from the steps. Pointing a gun at Josh's head in a very crude and horrifying way, saying; 'Hang up.'
	 Josh fumbled the phone and eventually dropped it. He bent down quickly to pick it up and the gun went off.
	At first he thought he was fine. He thought the guy missed. But just as he looked up, he saw the man run to the door. His face peeked in before he left and the two made eye contact for a second, the man looked remorseful, he looked sorry. Josh put a hand on his knee to steady himself but became light-headed and collapsed. When he fell it felt the blood creep onto his neck, it slithered into his hair and then onto the laminate flooring. It began to pool around him. He had a cold feeling in his stomach, almost like the feeling you get when you accidentally swallow an ice cube whole, but not quiet. This was different. This coldness had an emptiness to it.
	He could feel his eyes getting heavier and heavier; he started to breath in his own blood off the floor; he could hear a faint 'Hello?' on the phone but it was too far to reach. It would be much easier to just close his eyes, and sleep …

title: A short story.

question: Who broke into the narrator's house?

answer: A random man.

question: What did the narrator find in their home?

answer: Random scribbles on his wall.

question: Why does the narrator suspect that it's Mike?

answer: He thought it might be a prank but it wasn't Mike.

question: Why was the man remorseful?

answer: Perhaps he was feeling guilty.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator comes home to random scribbles on his wall. He calls Mike to see if it's one of his pranks but it wasn't. Mike urges him to call the cops. As he's on the phone with the cops the man who broke in shoots him in the head and the narrator drops his phone. As the man runs away looking remorseful, the narrator lies there slowly dying.


split: train

text:
[Brian Baker faces Jan Hajek at the 2012 U.S. Open.]
-   Doctors have cleared Baker for all movements and exercises
-   The meniscus is strong enough to start pushing the envelope
-   %22I hope to be practicing at full speed in the next 2-3 weeks%22

Well I finally got the good news I have been waiting to hear! My doctor has basically cleared me to do all movements and exercises.

He says that my meniscus should be strong enough to start pushing the envelope with my training on and off the court. I will probably continue to have some soreness in the knee as I start upping my movement on the court, but it feels great to be able to begin playing some "real tennis."

I hope to be practicing at full speed in the next 2-3 weeks. However, I am not going to rush the process if I am not ready. I should have a better idea of when I can resume playing on tour once I am practicing at a normal clip.

Last weekend I had a blast watching Belmont University's tennis team compete at the Ohio Valley Conference tennis tournament. Belmont came in as the five seed and made it all the way to the final before losing to Austin Peay University. The energy at the tournament was electric and really added to the quality of the matches. Watching the tennis made me think about what it would have been like to have participated in college tennis and to have been part of a team.

Tennis is typically very individualistic, so I'm sure it would have been a fun but different experience to have played in college. Maybe one day I'll experience college tennis as a head coach ... who knows?

I hope to report some encouraging news for next week. I'm confident that my knee will respond well to the increased workload and that I will be one week closer to returning to full strength!

— Brian

question: Who is Brain Baker?

answer: He is a professional tennis player.

question: What was his injury?

answer: He suffered a meniscus injury in his knee.

question: When can Brian expect to practice at full speed again?

answer: The next 2 - 3 weeks.

question: What are Brian's thoughts about tennis?

answer: He says that tennis is very individualistic.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Professional tennis player Brian Baker writes a post about the status of his meniscus injury and when he can expect to practice at full speed again. He talks about having fun while watching a tennis match between Belmont University and Austin Peay University and thinks it would've been fun if he played in college.


text:
Anna flipped the laundry basket over, dumping the newly-cleaned clothes onto her bed, before hurrying back outside to retrieve the rest off the clothesline. She had noticed that certain pieces of clothing had gone missing over the past few weeks, and wanted to make sure it didn’t happen again today. Hurridly, she grabbed the remaining garments and stuffed them into the basket, until the line hung empty.

Her friends, when told about the missing clothes, had all critisized her on her use of a clothesline in lieu of a modern drying machine. Anna had replied that she didn’t have the money to buy a dryer, and honestly didn’t want one, as the clothesline did the job just fine for free. However, the missing clothes were beginning to make her think about changing her mind.

Tossing the laundry on the bed, she busied herself with sorting and folding the various shirts, pants, and undergarments. Sure enough, something new was missing. A pair of jeans that she had just recently bought, and was quite fond of. Exasperation set in as she shoved the clothes into their drawers. Of all the things I have around here to steal, why my clothes?

Back outside, Anna carefully approached where the clothesline was. Perhaps, she figured, there might be a few footprings, or other incriminating clues, as to the culprit responsible. Unfortunately, grass grew under and all around the wash area. Her entire property, for that matter, was green.

Anna turned to walk back inside, nearly tripping over a sleeping dog. She glared.

“Tony, you really could bark every once in a while, you know, if you see anything. Those were my favorite jeans.”

The dog lifted his head, blinking slowly, then smiled with his tongue hanging out. Anna rolled her eyes, then made her way back inside the house.

Tony could hear her opening and closing drawers and cubboards, on the off-chance she had misplaced her missing garments. He put his head back in his paws, and licked his chops.

"Yeah, they were my favorite so far, too."

title: Man's Best Friend, Not Woman's.

question: Why does Anna feel uncomfortable with regards to her friends?

answer: They don't believe that she's being careful about hanging her clothes out to dry.

question: Who is actually stealing her clothes?

answer: Her dog.

question: What is the dog's name?

answer: Tony.

question: Why would someone hang their clothes out to dry?

answer: They don't have, or don't want to use, a clothing dryer.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Anna has become frustrated with the fact that every time she does laundry, some articles of clothing mysteriously disappear. Today, she notes she is missing a beloved pair of pants. She reprimands her dog, Tony, for not growling or barking to indicate the presence of someone else who is possibly the thief. After she leaves, Tony thinks about how he's the one who has been stealing the clothes.


text:
Bad Astronomy
[]

Drawing of a “hot Jupiter,” a massive planet very close to its star.
Drawing by NASA/JPL-Caltech/T. Pyle (SSC)

Twenty years ago, on this very date, the field of astronomy underwent a magnificent revolution.

On Oct. 6, 1995, Swiss astronomers Didier Queloz and Michel Mayor announced they had discovered a Jupiter-like planet orbiting a Sun-like star.

This was the very first time a planet was seen orbiting a “normal” star. Planets had previously been discovered around pulsars—the compact and furiously energetic cores of stars that had exploded. But it’s thought that the planets may have formed _after_ the supernova event that created the pulsar, and besides, pulsars are nothing at all like the Sun.

Still, this new planet, called 51 Pegasi b, was a surprise. A big one! While it had about the same mass as Jupiter, it orbited its host star (51 Peg) in just _four days_, meaning it was on an orbit a mere 8million kilometers from the star. Compare that with Mercury, our solar system’s innermost planet, which never gets closer than about 46 million km from the Sun.

This meant 51 Peg b was hot, cooking away at a temperature of about 1,300° C. No one thought a planet that size could be that close to a star. Did I say the discovery was a surprise? I meant it was a shock, one so profound that it was met with deep skepticism.

As well it should! But its existence was quickly confirmed by team of American astronomers, rivals in the hunt for the first extrasolar planets, as they were once called (we now call them exoplanets).

The planet was found using what’s called the “radial velocity” or reflexive “motion method.” A planet orbits a star due to the star’s gravity. But the planet has gravity, too, so as the planet makes a big circle around the star, the star makes a little circle. In reality both orbit the center of mass of the system, called the barycenter. I describe how this works in my episode of Crash Course Astronomy about the discovery of exoplanets:

As far as we knew at the time, planets like Jupiter had to form far out from their stars, half a billion kilometers or more. Because of this, astronomers who were hunting for exoplanets assumed they would take months or years to make an orbit. They completely missed the presence of 51 Peg b in their data.

Once it became clear these “hot Jupiters” existed, more were found in existing data. Within a few years many more were discovered. It’s now thought they do form far out, but then migrate closer to their star over millions of years. Although they make up only a minority of all exoplanets, these are the easiest to find using reflexive motion; their high mass and close orbit make their signal in the data easiest to see.

Once 51 Peg b was found, the floodgate was opened. HD 209458 b was another hot Jupiter found in 1999, and had an orbit so close to being edge-on that astronomers thought it might actually pass in front of its star, transiting it, dimming its light once per orbit. Careful observations later that same year detected a dip in the star’s brightness (only 1.7 percent!), which gave them the first independent observation of an exoplanet. Any lingering doubts about the existence of these alien worlds evaporated.

The field matured so quickly that NASA launched the Kepler spacecraft in 2009, designed specifically to stare at 150,000 stars to look for transiting exoplanets around Sun-like stars. As of today, Kepler has more than 1,000 confirmed exoplanets under its belt, and well over 3,000 more waiting confirmation.

We’ve seen planets big and small, hot and cold, orbiting small cool stars, huge hot stars, multiple stars, and even in systems with multiple planets.

When I was a kid—heck, when I was in grad school—the only planets we knew of were the ones in our solar system. Using simple statistics, we now think that _planets outnumber stars in the galaxy_ and that most stars may have planets. There may be tens of billions of Earth-size planets in our galaxy alone!

But we had to start somewhere. Exactly two decades ago, 51 Peg b gave us that start.

[]

The star 51 Peg is just off the Great Square of Pegasus, which is in the east after sunset for northern hemisphere observers. EarthSky has a finding chart for Pegasus, then you can use this image to find the star.
Map by Sky Safari

The host star, 51 Peg, is close by, just 50 or so light-years from us. It’s actually very much like our Sun, just a hair more massive, hotter, and bigger. It’s visible to the naked eye, barely, from a dark site. The constellation of Pegasus is high in the night sky for Northern Hemisphere observers right now, in fact. If it’s clear where you are, and you have a pair of binoculars, why not take a look at it tonight?

I will. The exoplanet is completely invisible to even the largest of telescopes, drowned by the light of its oh-so-close star. But who knows: Maybe a photon or two from the planet itself will pass into your eye as you look at the star, absorbed into your retina.

The sky may be brimming with planets. We stand on one among billions. And if you look, a small spark, literally the tiniest reflection of one, could become a part of you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

question: What did Swiss Astronomers Didier Queloz and Michel Mayor discover on October 6, 1996?

answer: A Jupiter-like planet called 51 Pegasi b orbiting a Sun-like star, 51 Peg.

question: What is the temperature on 51 Pegasi b?

answer: About 1,300° C

question: How did astronomers find 51 Pegasi b and other exoplanets?

answer: They found it using “radial velocity” or reflexive “motion method.” A planet orbits a star due to the star’s gravity. But the planet has gravity, too, so as the planet makes a big circle around the star, the star makes a little circle. In reality, both orbits the center of mass of the system called the barycenter.

question: How many planets have the Kepler spacecraft confirmed?

answer: More than 1,000 exoplanets and well over 3,000 awaiting confirmation.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: After Swiss astronomers, Didier Queloz and Michel Mayor discover the existence of a Jupiter-like planet called 51 Pegasi b orbiting a Sun-like star, 51 Peg, in 1996, the floodgates opened and thousands of exoplanets were found. The field matured so quickly that NASA launched the Kepler spacecraft in 2009 specifically designed to look at 150,000 stars. Today, Kepler has found over 1,000 confirmed exoplanets with more than 3,000 awaiting confirmation.


text:
“Ohhh god.....” Sighed Steven, collapsing down into bed.

Stevens girlfriend cuddles up from behind him and asked the mandatory, “Rough day at the clinic?”

“Ha, that’s one way to put it.”
“Is it the stress getting to you? Or is it someone specific?” Dian’s thoughtful words were comforting as always to Steven, but it seemed to him something else lay behind them. Possibly guilt, he diagnosed. He decided that he’s address it later.

“Well there’s this one guy, he’s really just a pain in the ass, I guess.” Steven’s heart rate quickened ever so slightly thinking about it, and Dian took notice, giving his hand a comforting squeeze.

Steven continued, “This guy is so frustrating to work with. I can deal with mental issues, I mean, I completely understand him, but it’s just such a rare case. It’s defiantly schizophrenia, no doubt about it, but this specific guy just seems like he was designed for some sort of final exam back at... School.”

Dian nodded encouragingly, showing far too many signs of guilt for his liking. What had she been up to? Doesn’t she know she can’t get away with anything while dating a psychologist? Maybe she’s cheating.

“Steven?” She asked, breaking the extended silence.

Steven decided to keep going with his story anyway. “Right, sorry. As I was saying, this specific schizophrenic patient of mine seems like too perfect a case. This guy, along with having countless imaginary “friends,” actually believes that he’s a psychologist.”

“Oh.” Was the only response Dian had. If it was one of his colleges, Steven supposed he would have gotten at least a laugh. But that ‘Oh’ seemed to contain more than just guilt; now it seems to have manifested some fear as well. Steven officially decided that it was time to figure out what was going on.

“Dian, is there something wrong? Something you need to tell me?”

“Well...” She started, “I guess I always knew this day would come.”

Steven was confused. “What do you mean Dian, do you know many schizophrenics? You can’t know more than I do.” Steven smiled at his own little bit of humor.

“Never mind. I meant nothing by it.” Dian reassured.
Sometimes, Dian almost seemed foreign to Steven. Almost. “Um... Alright then, I guess I’ll go on. So this guy took one look around my room, and instantly asked me why I was sitting in his chair. Ha! His chair! Of course I had been told of his condition beforehand, so I willingly moved to the patient’s chair. But this is when it got bad. As I was supposed to be analyzing his mind, he started interviewing me! I could barely get a question in!”

“Uh-huh.” Agreed Dian. Nearly silent now.

“All I figured out was that he thought he had a girlfriend. Not a word about abuse, neglect, and only a few thoughts on his feelings. But back to the girlfriend, this is when it got weird. I swear that in the one glance around my room, he must have memorized everything he saw. He called his “girlfriend” Dian! He must have seen your picture on the desk, because he described you perfectly! His short-term memory must be amazing, because he went on to talk about my college degree and he even called himself doctor Ste-... Dian? Are you alright? Why are you crying?”

The warm dampness of Dian’s tears was spreading on the sleeve of his shirt. Funny, he thought he had taken off his work jacket. That was probably why he was so uncomfortable, and probably why Dian was refusing to be held.

“There’s no reason to cry Dian, it’s just a man who has something wrong with him.”

Dian let out another sob. “I’m not crying because of him, it’s you!”

Steven thought then. Had he done anything to upset Dian? Not that he could remember.

“Dian, why are you crying?”

“I’m not.” Said Dian. And she was right. But where were those tears coming from? My eyes. I’m crying, thought Steven. But why am I crying?

“Because it’s all falling apart.” Said Dian. No, said Steven. NO! Get it right! I just said that!

“And why is my shirt SO tight?” Steven- No- I just yelled out to the world! To whoever was beside me, as it obviously wasn’t Dian!

“I think she’s cheating on me.” The other Steven had told him. “It makes me mad, because she should know that I can tell she’s guilty!” But I just thought that minutes ago!

“NO!” I yelled, straining against-

“-these infernal straps! Dian now gone, I finally opened my eyes to look for her! Where is my bed?!?! I yelled, for now I was in my office. I can see Dian’s photo from where I lay. Still in the patient’s chair.”

title: Steven

question: Is Steven cheating on Dian?

answer: It seems like he has something to hide, and Dian seems to be his partner.

question: Is Steven a psychiatrist?

answer: It could be inferred given his crack about schizophrenia.

question: What is this love triangle?

answer: Not answered/is very confusing.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Steven comes home from a long day at the hospital. There's tension between him and a woman named Dian. She begins to cry. Something, a romantic entanglement, is falling apart.


text:
Everyday I wake up and I fail. I am nothing, I am no one. If this wasn't true then wouldn't she love me?  Maybe she could love me like her other children if I was better. I see it in the way her angry dark eyes go Soft when she looks at them. "One minute sweety, I'm just dealing with your sister." knowing I was in trouble they'd turn their back and walk away pretending they had no clue. I do not blame them nor hate them. I'm sure I'd do the same. I will stand here and take it so she will not go after them. "Why can't you do anything good enough? Your siblings are perfect. You are a disease, a burden, worthless." she spits out every word like a whip lashing across my face. Slowly I nod. Knowing every word she says is true. I see the anger in her eyes flicker. Changing.... She's changing again. The anger turns to weeping. "Every thing I do is wrong to you. You never accept me. You just push me away over and over. How can I help you if you won't let me! You hurt your dad so much. Broke him. You're the reason he left. It should have been you."

     It was my fault he left. I stopped talking then he stopped being a dad. How could I talk to him? Someone so worthless like me being loved by someone so perfect like him. It wasn't fair. Eventually he stopped trying to talk to me. Soon I was nothing to him. Until he left. In my hand he left a note saying " I love you." I ripped it up and threw it away. I know the truth. No one could love me.

      People say school is an escape. They're wrong. I find myself afraid and more self conscious than ever. It's not as if I'm bullied. No I have lots of "friends" but non of which actually know me. I put on that happy face and cheery laugh using every bit of energy trying not to fall apart. In my desk I feel the pairs of eyes watching me. I just sit there like the fat cow I am, Tugging down the back of my sweater that I should fit in. Crossing my arms over my disgusting stomach. Their stares are the worst. Gathered into the groups I feel their hot gaze piercing my body, laughing always laughing. Maybe they were talking about me. Maybe not. I look up to notice 15 minutes have gone by. I've missed the lesson being swallowed by my own thoughts. Stupid. This is why my marks went down. I can't help but listen and take part in the conversations that occur in my head. No school is not an escape. The only place I am safe is in my sleep.

Sleep is my bliss. The only part of the day I look forward to. Maybe one day I will sleep and never wake up. Stuck in a dream forever. One once said "I cannot face reality so I get lost in my dreams," I know this is true. Every word. That surprising considering I don't know much. There was a time when I cared. What changed? Me or her? There were times I would try to go back. Back to how things were. Almost as if another person inhabited my body. A new voice. The younger version of me. Maybe she would love that version.  Nope. Stupid. I feel the skin on my tongue raw and bloody from where I've been biting it. Pain. I deserve it. This is how I get control of my life. The cold metal pressing against my skin was the only thing that cleared my mind. Till she took that from me to. When things get real bad my whole mouth is bloody. That what happens when I think. People get hurt. I try not to think.

Normal kid. Why cant I be normal. Before I was not close to normal and people knew. Then there was the day I decided to keep it all inside. So much kept inside me driving me to insanity one sentence at a time. Why just the other day a Thought that started out as a simple childhood memory turned to how it Makes complete sense that all human babies are actually grown as oranges. She is right. I am a disease. I will keep it to myself. The less people know the safer they are. They told me to grow up. I tried but how can someone who's past was so wonderful ever look forward at a life of misery and insanity. One day I will be normal.

   Two of them are gone. Two people who I actually love. They left me here. Yes every once in a while they visit. Those are the best times. I get to actually be considered part of a family. She doesn't come after me when theyre home but when they leave the house goes silent. I love silence. Not this silence. This eerie quietness means she is thinking. Thinking of even flaw I have compared to them. I hear that voice in complete hysteria crying out. "Why! Why me! I am a good mother! I don't deserve this!" she is right. Nobody deserves to have me as a burden.

       Run away. The thought rings through my head over and over again. I know I could but where would I run to. Family? No I've hurt them all. Friends? Nobody falls under this category. No. She would catch me and hate me even more.

Today I wont eat. Things will be better when I'm skinny. People tell me im thin. I know theyre lying. I can see myself in the mirror. I used to be skinny. When things were better. No today I won't eat but I get there and they are watching my every move. People know if I don't so there I sit stuffing my face with anything to satisfy there stares. I remember the day she found out I didn't eat. "how much do you weigh? You need help. Anorexic or something!" Deny. Deny. Deny. Deny everything or loose everything. I tried the whole puking thing. Standing at the top of our hill choking on my fingers and anything else I could shove down my throat. Nothing worked. I even failed at that. When I grow up I won't have to eat. Then I can be skinny. Actually skinny.

   I'm going home now. Praying no one will be there. Maybe I can be alone. There is the truck. I can feel my heart dropping into my gut, this won't be good. I'll just avoid her for as long as I can. Do my duties, go for a run and then sleep. My feet feel like lead being drug up the steps to the house. Not today please. I can't take it today. Her voice is coming from the kitchen and growing louder. No please no. "how was your day?" is this a trick. Another sick game. Stupid Ive taking to long to reply. "oh so now your not talking to me! I try so hard. Go out of my way to make you happy and this is how you thank me!" I mumble a short reply. "I'm sick of this. Your disgusting. " Her eyes drop in shame for me and she walks away shoulders slumped and head down low. It's a strange thing verbal beatings effect me so much more than any physical.

   My scratchy coat feels heavy on my shoulders. Tears sting my eyes threatening to pour over. What am I doing? I don't cry. Ever. The image of my dad passes through my mind and my face hardens over again.

title: Title: Just another day in my life.... Critique is welcome.

question: Why does the protagonist not get along with her mother?

answer: According to the protagonist, her mother hates her and believes she is a burden. She abuses her verbally.

question: When does the protagonist feel safe?

answer: When she is asleep. Sleep is her escape.

question: What medical condition does the protagonist seem to have?

answer: She seems to be anorexic. In any case, she has an eating disorder.

question: What happened to the protagonist's father?

answer: She believes he left the family because of her.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The text is a short story about a depressed and possibly anorexic teenage girl who doesn't get along with her mother. She believes her mother thinks she is useless and a burden, and that her father left them because of her.


text: I can only imagine what it must be like to smell fresh wild flowers in bloom or the sound made by autumn leaves blowing in an October breeze. How it must be to feel fresh snow fall upon a frozen face or the taste of a cool rush of ice cream against a tongue warmed by a southern summer. For though I have created these things and done so in hopes of perfection I will never see them or anything my brush has painted for that is my curse. To create something so beautiful and marvelous as life, yet never to live it myself . Merely to have the knowledge that is there, somewhere just out of sight. My children spend there whole lives trying to live as if me, but if only they knew my one true wish was simply to live as if them.

title: The Curse of the Father By NLawler

question: What is the significance of the title?

answer: The narrator is the father of humanity and creator of the world and wishes that they could experience life the way that their children do. Their curse is that they are able to create beautiful things but not to experience them.

question: What does the narrator wish for?

answer: The narrator wishes to experience the beauty of the things they have created. They want to live the way that their children do.

question: Who is the narrator?

answer: The narrator is God.

question: Where does this story take place?

answer: That information can't be found.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: God laments that though he has created such beautiful things, he is unable to experience. He notes that while his children spend their whole lives trying to live as him, his one true wish is to live as them and experience creation the way that they do.


text:
I am a BA-seeking college writer looking for some input on my short story. This was for fun/entertainment/venting, not for class.
_______________________________________________________________________
I study the old woman crying on the bus. She looks tired, like my mom did before she died, after she spent the night awake suffering from headaches. I feel her pain, but I cannot stand to look at her. I've been up too long to think about anything other than myself and slipping in between the sheets into a sweaty, alcohol-induced coma.
I watch another elderly lady come onto the bus. And the next stop, three more got on the bus, dressed in flowing long skirts and fedoras with flowers and shrunken wool sweaters. They falter when they put the crumpled ones into the driver’s hand. More and more stops and more and more broken down mothers fill the bus and it is becoming suffocating. I wonder why they keep letting them on.

They are all stuffed in here like a morgue, and it’s hot and musky and I start to I think I cannot breathe. It’s a mess of gorged veins and sweaty upper lips and I grab onto the cord for the next stop but it doesn't work, and we keep driving and driving so I keep holding on and pulling. I am against the window while dozens of old women stare at their hands, examining the deep blue veins underneath their thin waxy skin. I can't sit still and my mind is racing so I stare out the window to distract myself, and we are far away from anything I have ever seen on this bus route. We are driving, almost drifting off into the distance of a repetitive desert scene from nowhere and I shout “Where are we going?” but no one listens.

And I think of my mom who would hold me and help me fight through the pain of dozens of childhood ear and throat infections that made my tonsils swell to the point I couldn't breathe. I would clutch onto her and cry “Mommy Mommy make it stop,” and she couldn’t but she would skip work and cradle me and tell me everything would be all right. She's not here to comfort me anymore and nothing feels the same. The memory fades fast and the bus continues, all of us stuck here like at the end of a roller coaster ride, and the attendant is asking us to get off and we all just sit there patiently, waiting for the ride to start again.

title: Can't Let Go

question: Where is the narrator headed?

answer: It can be implied he is heading home.

question: Why does the old crying woman remind the narrator about his mother?

answer: She looks tired like his mother did before her death.

question: What time is the story set in?

answer: That information cannot be found.

question: Why were the women passengers old crying women?

answer: Not known.

question: What makes the narrator remember his mother

answer: The ride on the bus becomes an unending, horrifying journey, and no one seems to answer him.

question: Is the narrator an alcoholic?

answer: It may be implied he is.

question: Write a ~7 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator, seemingly on his way home, encounters a crying older woman who looks tired. Her demeanor reminds him of his late mother, who looked tired because of constant headaches. When the bus stops mid-journey, more similar women board, and the narrator wonders why the attendant keeps letting them on the bus. After a while, he worries the bus is taking a different route when he discovers he is unfamiliar with the surroundings. He calls out to the attendant concerning their whereabouts but gets no answer. He remembers his mother and wishes to be in her warm embrace and comforting assurance. Soon, the bus eventually comes to a halt, but no one attempts to get off.


text:
_BLANQUERNA_ () is a novel written around 1283 by Ramon Llull. It chronicles the life of its eponymous hero. It is the first major work of literature written in Catalan.

Structure

[Raymond Llull] The novel is divided into five parts.[1] Llull's _LLIBRE D'AMIC E D'AMAT_ (_Book of the Friend and Beloved_) is often included as a semiautonomous section within _Blanquerna_.[2]

Plot summary

The central character of the novel named after him, Blanquerna, was born to Evast and Aloma. Before marrying, Evast, a nobleman, had wanted to follow a religious life but at the same time wished to experience matrimony. He became a merchant after his marriage to Aloma, and he gives his son an education based on religious and philosophical pursuits.

In the second part of the novel, Blanquerna confronts the same choice his father did: between a celibate life and a married one. Blanquerna decides to become a hermit, which saddens his mother; she tries to have her son marry the beautiful Cana. But Blanquerna persuades Cana to become a nun, and she later becomes an abbess.[3] Blanquerna also faces sexual temptation in the form of a maiden named Natana. This second part includes a description of the seven sins.

In parts three through five of the novel, Blanquerna, having chosen a religious life, becomes a monk (though he desires to become a hermit instead), and quickly becomes an abbot. In time, he is elected pope.

The road to the papacy is not easy; Blanquerna is constantly faced with troublesome decisions and temptations, and he is not perfect. Indeed, Blanquerna “is made credible precisely because he is prone to make mistakes and to experience temptation, and in the end this gives him an authority which other authorities are obliged to recognize.”[4] Blanquerna's life takes him through widely varying places and social strata, from uninhabited forests and wildernesses to the dense Roman urban landscape of thieves and prostitutes, from interactions with young maidens to interactions with popes and emperors.[5]

As he matures, Blanquerna listens to the advice of a jongleur, a “wise fool” named Ramon. Blanquerna reforms the Church completely as pope, with Ramon’s help, and finally becomes the hermit he had always desired to be. As a hermit, he composes a book of meditations to help his fellow hermits defeat temptation: this is the _Llibre d'Amic e d'Amat_, which consists of 365 love poems.[6] This text “purports to offer the protagonist’s mystical confessions, based on personal experience and examples of 'Sufi preachers,' as a guide to contemplation within the apostolic utopia of a reform of contemporary Christendom.”[7]

Selected verses

_27 The bird was singing in the garden of the Beloved. The Lover came and said to the bird: - If we don’t understand each other through language, let’s communicate through love, because your song represents my Beloved to my eyes._

_295 The Lover was in danger in the great sea of love; and he trusted his Beloved, who came to rescue him with tribulations, thoughts, tears and cries, sighs and sorrows, since the sea was one of love and also made to honour his principles._

[1] Robert M. Place, _Buddha Tarot_ (Llewellyn Worldwide: 2004), 56.

[2] Josiah Blackmore; Gregory S. Hutcheson, _Queer Iberia: Sexualities, Cultures, and Crossings from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance_ (Duke University Press: 1999), 170.

[3] Ramon Lull; E. Allison Peers (translator), _Book of the Lover and the Beloved_ (Kessinger, 2003), 16.

[4] Arthur Terry, _A Companion to Catalan Literature_ (Boydell & Brewer, 2003), 14.

[5]

[6]

[7]

title: Blanquerna

question: What does the article say about the plot summary of the novel Blanquerna by Ramon Llull?

answer: Blanquerna confronts the choice: between a celibate life and a married one. He decides to become a hermit but becomes a monk, later an abbot, then a pope. Blanquerna is constantly faced with temptations. He composes a book of meditations to help his fellow hermits defeat temptation, which consists of 365 love poems.

question: What does the story say about what happened to Cana after she become a nun?


text:
The president of Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts, has apologized following controversy over a email she sent to students Friday that had the subject line, “All Lives Matter.”

President Kathleen McCartney sent an email to students, faculty and staff that gave a list of steps to be taken on campus to help heal those in pain and “work for equity and justice,” following the grand jury decisions in the Michael Brown and Eric Garner cases, the Daily HampshireGazette reported.

Ms. McCartney‘s email was reportedly titled “All Lives Matter.”

Later Friday, Ms. McCartney sent a second email expressing regret that she was unaware the phrase “all lives mater” is being used on social media as a counterargument to the “#BlackLivesMatter” movement, the Gazette reported. She said numerous students contacted her to complain about the email.

“It minimizes the anti-blackness of this the current situation; yes, all lives matter, but not all lives are being targeted for police brutality,” one student wrote to Ms. McCartney.

The college president apologized and thanked those who shared their “wisdom and wise counsel” with her, the Gazette reported. On Monday, Ms. McCartney led a vigil attended by 130 people.

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Please read our comment policy before commenting.

question: What was the controversy?

answer: The president of a Massachusetts college sent an email to students with the title, "All Lives Matter."

question: Explain the significance of "All Lives Matter" in this context.

answer: It is a phrase used to discredit the social movement "Black Lives Matter" and was used by McCartney in direct reference to relevant social issues, which indicates that her personal stance is against the BLM movement.

question: Why did McCartney lead a vigil?

answer: McCartney's role as college president must require that she lead memorial-type events for the students and staff. In this case, the vigil is implied to be for victims of police brutality.

question: Why did the Daily Hampshire Gazette report on this?

answer: Presumably the college is in the territory covered by the news organization; controversial slip-ups and misdeeds regarding social issues like the one that occurred here are commonly reported on, as the readership is almost certain to have an opinion either way, thus the story is good for sales.

question: Why did McCartney respond as she did?

answer: She responded with an apology and gratitude to those who contacted her to point out the problem, because as the head of an educational institution, it is her job to keep peace on campus and ensure equality is being practiced. Her position is at risk if she fails to do so.


text:
ALLEN is a stop on the Region of Waterloo's Ion rapid transit system.[1] It is located in the median of King Street in Waterloo, between Allen and John Streets. It opened in 2019.

North of the station, the tracks split bidirectionally, with the northbound track continuing along King Street but the southbound track diverting along Allen to follow Caroline Street. They combine again beyond Erb Street to follow the Waterloo Spur rail line, together northward.

Access to the platform is from the crosswalks, at either Allen Street or John Street.

The station is located directly between two recent condominium developments: 'The Red' to the north, and the 'Bauer Lofts' to the south. Just to the northwest is the City of Waterloo's Adult Recreation Centre, and the 'Circa 1877' condominium. About 200m southeast is Sun Life Financial's Waterloo headquarters office tower.

The station's feature wall consists of red, tan, and white glass tiles in a pattern.

Connections to local GRT bus routes 7 and 16 are available immediately to the north of the station, around the intersection of King and Allen. The 301R Ion rail replacement bus uses the same set of stops as well.[2]

[1]

[2] https://www.grt.ca/en/schedules-maps/resources/ION-station-connection-maps/Allen-Station-connections.pdf

title: Allen station (Waterloo)

question: Is the Allen station a frequented stop?

answer: That information can't be found in the article.

question: What is the station for?

answer: It is a stop on the Region of Waterloo's Ion rapid transit system.

question: Describe the feature wall.

answer: The wall consists of red, tan, and white glass tiles in a pattern.

question: How does the 'Circa 1877' condominium relate to the station?

answer: The station is just to the northwest of the condominium.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: This article describes Allen Station, a stop on the Region of Waterloo's Ion rapid transit system. It opened in 2019.


text:
SAMANTHA HILL KNEW IT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.
Her cellmate was leering at her and acting strangely. Although Hill had only been housed with him for a few days at the U.S. penitentiary in Florence, she’d been in prison long enough to recognize the warning signs. But when her cellmate began stuffing rosary beads into the tip of his penis on the night of December 16, 2011, Hill’s nervousness turned to terror. “If you wake it, you’re going to burp it ’til it spits,” the cellmate told her, according to legal documents.

Hill immediately told the guard in charge that she wasn’t safe and needed to be moved out of the cell. The guard, who was female, said there was nowhere else to put her. “She said, ‘You’ll be fine for the night,’” Hill recalls.

She wasn’t.

Hill is transgender. Although she identifies as a woman, she was born with male genitalia and has done her time behind bars — nearly twenty years in federal prison — in men’s prisons. It hasn’t been easy. She’s a diminutive five-foot-six and feminine, with long, dark hair, and she’s been labeled a “punk” and a “gump” — slang for a small, timid inmate who’s seen by bigger, tougher inmates as sexual prey.

“The whole hierarchy of prisons, I’m way at the bottom of it,” she says in a phone interview. “I’m looked at as just something that’s put here to take care of their needs.”

At Florence, a federal prison located forty miles southwest of Colorado Springs, Hill was living in the special housing unit, or SHU, separated from the general population. Most of the inmates in the SHU are there because they’ve caused some sort of trouble; they’re locked up 23 hours a day, without access to classes, work opportunities or the ability to walk freely around the prison yard. But for Hill and other transgender prisoners, it can be the safest place in an inherently unsafe institution. In the SHU, she has only her cellmate to protect herself from, as opposed to an entire yard of men.

But sometimes even that’s not possible.

Shortly after midnight, Hill’s cellmate violently raped her, according to a lawsuit that Hill filed against the federal Bureau of Prisons in 2013. Red marks bloomed on her hips where he held her down, and the rosary beads tore her anus. Afraid that things would get even worse if she called for help, she sat in her semen-soaked underwear for more than eight hours. When a nurse came by to distribute the prisoners’ morning medications, Hill slipped the nurse a note. It said that she’d been raped and needed to be removed immediately.

“Is this real?” the nurse asked. “This better be real.”

Rape in prison has been all too real for Hill. Over the years, she says, she’s been sexually assaulted numerous times, despite her persistent requests for protection. Following each rape, the Bureau of Prisons has offered an increasingly predictable response: a transfer to another facility — away from the rapist, but inevitably into the hands of another.

In the months before the Colorado rape, Hill decided that she’d had enough. She’d gotten hold of a directory of lawyers from the American Civil Liberties Union and began writing to them. In all, she sent more than 100 handwritten letters.

“I told them I was an LGBT inmate, that I was feminine, that I was [of] small stature,” says Hill during a one-hour interview with _Westword_. “I’ve been raped and physically assaulted numerous times. I needed legal representation to help me to prevent the assaults from happening. I asked them for justice. I asked them to help me. I asked them to overlook the fact that I’m a prisoner and look to the fact that I’m a human being.”

Transgender-rights issues have been making the news recently, and not just because of Caitlyn Jenner or shows like _Transparent_ and _Orange Is the New Black_. In April, the U.S. Department of Justice intervened in the court case of a transgender prisoner in Georgia, reminding that state’s department of corrections that it is unconstitutional to withhold hormone treatments and other medical care from transgender prisoners.

Still, most of the attorneys whom Hill contacted declined to take her case because, she says, she couldn’t pay them up front. But one, Denver-based prisoner-rights attorney Elisabeth Owen, wrote back to say that she wanted to learn more and agreed to visit Hill in Florence. She made no promises, but to Hill, it was an important step. After fighting to get out of harm’s way by herself for so long, she felt a little less alone.

THE DANGERS OF BEING A TRANSGENDER WOMAN IN A MEN’S PRISON ARE WELL DOCUMENTED.
In fact, the nation’s landmark prison-rape court case was filed by a transgender woman. In 1989, Dee Farmer — described in court documents using the outdated term “transsexual” — sued the director of the federal Bureau of Prisons for violating the Eighth Amendment, which prohibits cruel and unusual punishment. Her lawsuit, Farmer v. Brennan, alleged that Bureau officials knew that because of her feminine nature, she was likely to be sexually assaulted if they transferred her to a notoriously violent prison in Indiana. She was transferred anyway, and Farmer claimed that within two weeks, she was beaten and raped by another inmate.

A local court dismissed the lawsuit, but Farmer appealed all the way up to the U.S. Supreme Court. The justices remanded the case, and the lower court held a jury trial. Farmer lost, but many advocates consider her case a victory nonetheless because, in its decision, the Supreme Court held for the first time that it is unconstitutional for prison officials who know about a serious safety risk to deliberately ignore it. Doing so, the justices said, is cruel and unusual punishment.

“Farmer was the first case that said, ‘If you get raped in prison, you can sue the prison for failure to protect you,’” says Chris Daley, deputy executive director of Just Detention International, a Los Angeles-based organization dedicated to ending sexual abuse in detention facilities. “It’s fascinating that this was filed by a transgender woman.”

But the case didn’t improve things for the vast majority of prisoners. In 2001, Human Rights Watch published a report called “No Escape: Male Rape in U.S. Prisons.” It was based on information gathered from more than 200 inmates, and it helped bring the problem of sexual violence in prison to the attention of Congress. The report included graphic excerpts from prisoners’ letters: “Mostly young youthful boys are raped because of their youth and tenderness and smooth skin,” one prisoner wrote, “that in the mind of the one doing the raping, he think of the smooth skin and picture a woman.”

The report acknowledged that LGBT inmates are also at increased risk and cited Farmer’s case as an example. “Certain prisoners are targeted for sexual assault the moment they enter a penal facility: their age, looks, sexual orientation, and other characteristics mark them as candidates for abuse. A clear example is that of Dee Farmer, a young preoperative transsexual with ‘overtly feminine characteristics’ who was placed in regular housing in a maximum-security federal prison.... Unsurprisingly, transsexual prisoners like Dee Farmer, whose case went to the Supreme Court, face unrelenting sexual harassment unless another inmate is protecting them.”

Persuaded by that report and the relentless advocacy of several human-rights organizations, Congress unanimously passed the Prison Rape Elimination Act (PREA) in 2003. The law did several things. Among the most important was that it required the federal government to start collecting statistics on sexual violence in detention facilities. It also called for the creation of national standards for preventing, investigating and prosecuting prison rape.

The federal Bureau of Justice Statistics (BJS) began compiling data right away, but it wasn’t until 2007 that the agency surveyed the inmates themselves. The questions were straightforward: “During the last twelve months, did another inmate use physical force to make you have anal sex?” The survey also asked about oral sex, unwanted touching and coercion. More than 23,000 prisoners took it, and just over 1,100 reported being victimized. Using those numbers, the BJS estimated that 4.5 percent of all state and federal prisoners had been sexually assaulted.

It took seven more years of collecting and parsing data, but the BJS eventually published a report in December 2014 recognizing that the percentage for transgender inmates was much higher. It estimated that 24 percent of transgender inmates had been victimized by other inmates. When assaults by prison staff were added in, that number jumped to 35 percent.

One major reason, advocates say, is housing. “For transgender inmates, the vast majority are housed in the wrong facility,” Daley says. “Even though the agencies don’t recognize transgender inmates like Samantha as women, the inmates certainly do.”

“If you come in and you still have your penis, there’s an assumption that you’re weak and you’re available,” says Brenda Smith, an American University law professor who has studied prisoner rape. The other inmates, she says, “view your gender presentation — you’re presenting yourself as a woman — as an invitation or a provocation.”

In that environment, Hill never stood a chance.

BORN IN 1971 IN MASSACHUSETTS TO A MOTHER WHO DRANK AND A FATHER SHE NEVER MET, Hill was given the name Scott. She grew up in the blue-collar city of Worcester with her mother and stepfather, both of whom were violent; according to a psychological assessment included as an exhibit in Hill’s lawsuit, her mother beat her with a billy club, and her stepfather made her kneel on a two-by-four in a corner. “This is how we make men in the military,” he’d reportedly said.

These days, she’s locked up in North Carolina. Even over the phone, it’s clear that Hill is determined to tell her story. She speaks matter-of-factly and doesn’t shy away from uncomfortable details. But she’s also polite, never raising her soft voice and apologizing to the public-information officer in the room with her for using the word “bitch” when describing how she’s treated by other inmates. Despite having been incarcerated all over the country, Hill hasn’t lost her Massachusetts accent. Her speech is full of dropped _r_’s and _a_’s that sound like “ah.”

Even as a youngster, she says, she knew “there was something wrong with me.” Hill identified more with girls than boys. She preferred playing with dolls to building tree forts, and when she was with other little girls, she didn’t feel pressure to pretend to be something she wasn’t. As for her stepfather, she says, “I could never be the son that he wanted, because I was girly.”

When Hill was eight, an uncle began molesting her. “I didn’t know I was being sexually assaulted,” Hill says. “He used to tell me that he loved me after he did it.” Hill thought that kind of love was normal. She explains her childhood reasoning like this: “Mommy was dropping me off at his house. Mommy would not drop me off somewhere to hurt me, so she must know what’s going on, and it’s okay.” When Hill tried years later to tell her mother what had happened, her mother didn’t believe her: “She goes, ‘He wouldn’t do that. He’s married and has three children.’ So the whole time, our family was about denial.”

Hill grew into an angry teenager. She began starting brush fires and eventually set fire to her uncle’s house, injuring him and earning herself a juvenile-delinquency record. Around the same time, she came out to her parents. As a teenage boy, she knew she felt an attraction to boys, not girls, so she figured she was gay. When she was sixteen, she sexually assaulted a fourteen-year-old boy. At the time, she says, she didn’t know it was wrong: “I thought it was right. I thought it was love. I didn’t know. I hate rapists. I hate them.”

When her stepfather found out about the assault, he kicked her out of the house. Her mother drove her to downtown Worcester. “My mother basically said, ‘Don’t ever call; don’t ever come home. Your father is the one who makes the rules in the house, and I can’t deal with it,’” Hill recalls.

So Hill lived on the streets. Free of her abusive family, she began dressing as a girl. She also started using drugs to numb her harsh new reality. She turned to petty crime and prostitution to support herself. “I let old men pick me up, as a child, and have their way with me,” she says. “It put $20 or $40 in my pocket for my drugs or to eat food.”

Her criminal record shows a string of arrests for theft and drug possession, and she eventually ended up in federal prison in Pennsylvania in 1998 on a bank-robbery charge. Prison records attached to her lawsuit indicate that she told the Bureau of Prisons right away that she’d been raped before and was afraid it would happen again. The records say she tried to change her housing several times “due to believing [she] may be re-victimized while incarcerated.”

(Prison records refer to Hill as “he”; _Westword_ has chosen to use “she.”)

Hill was placed among the general population, but the other prisoners made her life unbearable. The solicitations for sex got so bad that she “checked in” to the SHU voluntarily in the hopes that she would be safe there. But in March 2001, Hill was raped by her cellmate, according to her lawsuit and to prison records. As a result, she was transferred and then transferred again to a different prison in Pennsylvania. On her third day there, in July 2002, she had to be put in the SHU again.

A report from staff psychologist Dr. John Mitchell notes that Hill “was unable to make it here for even three days without encountering pressure for sex from predatory inmates.”

Mitchell’s report describes Hill as a “physically meek” prisoner with a “known history of homosexuality” and a “significant history of being sexually assaulted.” He writes that when he went to talk to Hill in the SHU, she was upset over having to be placed there. She told him that “[she] does not do well in segregation and tends to become ‘my own worst enemy,’” the report says. “[She] related that [she] typically becomes hopeless, depressed, and questions why [she] should go on in life if [she] cannot successfully adjust to serving out [her] time in prison.”

Mitchell spoke with prison officials, who agreed that Hill should be housed with a cellmate who was also “meek and mild,” his report says. “It must be emphasized how inappropriate inmate Hill is to remain at a penitentiary environment,” Mitchell wrote. Instead, he suggested transferring her to a lower-security facility, where inmates tend to be less violent.

Despite the doctor’s advice, Hill was housed in a string of high-security penitentiaries, where she was physically and sexually assaulted again and again. It happened once in 2002 and again in 2003. Hill briefly got out of prison in 2006, but committed another bank robbery and was sent back that same year. The rapes continued: one in 2009 and three in 2010, according to her lawsuit.

The last assault in 2010 was particularly brutal. Hill was at a penitentiary in California, where prison officials put her in a cell with a Latin Kings gang member. He repeatedly raped her over the course of ten days in October, she says. He warned her that if she told the guards, he’d kill her — and she believed him. When she finally reported him, the BOP decided to transfer her again, this time to Florence. “It was, ‘You get raped at this institution and we’re going to send you out,’” Hill says. “You’re basically passed on. It’s like passing the buck.”

Unfortunately, her cellmate was also being transferred (though to a different prison). The two of them ended up on the same plane, along with several of his fellow gang members. “He’s telling people on the plane that I ratted on him,” Hill says. Some of them were also headed to Colorado. “I haven’t even put my foot on the compound,” she says, “and I’m labeled a snitch.”

Hill arrived at Florence in December 2010. She asked to be housed in a cell by herself, but prison officials denied her request and gave her a cellmate in the SHU. Over and over again, staff assured her that they’d only put her with inmates who posed no safety threat. “I’ve basically become a pain in the ass to staff,” she says. “I fight for my rights and I advocate for myself.”

When other SHU inmates sent her sexually explicit notes, or “kites,” she showed them to the guards. “Cherokee, what’s up. I asked the [corrections officer] about moves, right? He said to let him know who’s going to move where and he will get the moves done,” one kite attached to her lawsuit says (Hill is Cherokee). “I told him you can move in with me.... Man, I want you for my celly. I can’t wait to have your hot ass.”

The note gets more explicit from there.

Hill didn’t end up with that cellmate. Instead, she ended up with the one with the rosary beads, the one who violently raped her just after midnight on December 17, 2011.

After Hill passed the note to the nurse later that morning, the guards removed her from her cell and took her to a room to be interviewed. Her clothes were still streaked with her cellmate’s semen and her teeth were chattering. “What, are you cold?” one guard asked her, according to the lawsuit. “No,” Hill said. “Don’t you understand how I feel right now?” The guard told her he didn’t. “I’ve never had a dick in my ass,” he said.

Hill was taken to the local hospital, where nurses did a rape kit, catalogued her bruises and noted the tears to her anus. Prison staff investigated, but, as happened after all of Hill’s previous rapes, their investigation wound up “inconclusive.”

“He was never tried for it. He’s out on the street,” Hill says about her cellmate. “That’s what it is with the BOP. To minimize damage, they will just say it’s inconclusive.”

A few weeks later, Hill was transferred again. But by then, she had a lawyer.

ELISABETH OWEN HAD MET HILL BEFORE THE RAPE. After agreeing to come to Florence, she’d sat with Hill, but she’d told her that she wasn’t sure what she could do. Nothing had happened yet in Colorado, and it can be difficult to file a lawsuit based on the possibility of future harm. “I was trying to figure out what to do,” Owen says, “and she was raped during that period.”

Hill’s situation was now ripe for a lawsuit, and Owen felt it was a strong case: The Bureau of Prisons had repeatedly identified Hill as an at-risk inmate and at the same time denied her requests for more protection.

Owen has been representing prisoners since she was a law student at the University of Denver. After she graduated in 2010, she founded the Colorado Prison Law Project in order to continue that work. She’s now the sole attorney for a new project called the Prisoners’ Justice League of Colorado. The superhero vibe is intentional: It’s a mission-oriented law firm that aims to change the way people are incarcerated in this state. An aggressive advocate for prisoner rights, Owen provides free legal representation and also does work on a sliding-scale basis.

But she can’t always do it alone. For Hill’s case, she approached a big-name Denver law firm for some pro bono help. That request eventually led her to Sarah Hartley, a commercial litigator who usually focuses on contract disputes and antitrust violations but felt that this case was meaningful. In September 2014, the two attorneys filed a detailed amended complaint in U.S. District Court in Denver. It alleged that the BOP had violated Hill’s Eighth Amendment rights.

“Despite her frequent pleas to the BOP for placement in a single cell or in a facility where she is not facing the risk of assault, and despite her exhaustion of administrative remedies to put all levels of the BOP on notice of her serious concerns regarding her personal safety, the BOP continues to house Ms. Hill in penitentiaries with violent criminals who target her as ‘prey,’” it said.

The lawsuit also alleged that the BOP was failing to provide hormone therapy for Hill’s gender dysphoria, which BOP doctors had diagnosed back in 2005. The agency wasn’t providing talk therapy for Hill’s post-traumatic stress disorder or rape-trauma syndrome, either, the lawsuit said, nor was it following the standards set by the 2003 Prison Rape Elimination Act.

Those standards are meant to protect all inmates, but they pay special attention to LGBT ones. Adopted in 2012 after nine years of hearings, drafts and blown deadlines, they cover everything from how to screen new inmates to determine who might be a victim and who might be a perpetrator, to a requirement to provide mental-health treatment for both after an assault has taken place. There are separate standards for prisons, lockups, community corrections and juvenile facilities, but each is required to have a zero-tolerance policy on rape.
Smith, the American University law professor, served on the nine-member commission that wrote the standards. “The commission was pretty clear from the beginning that LGBT prisoners are particularly vulnerable to abuse,” she says.

And it’s not just because of other inmates, Smith says. Staff can also be to blame. “There’s a saying in corrections that an inmate is an inmate is an inmate,” she says. “Corrections doesn’t deal well with individuality or people who are different. Transgender inmates represent difference magnified.”

The Prison Rape Elimination Act standards require that housing decisions for transgender inmates be made on a case-by-case basis, taking the inmates’ “own views” into account. In an attempt to stop the nearly universal practice of housing prisoners based on their genitalia, the standards prohibit strip searches “for the sole purpose of determining inmates’ genital status.” They also require that prison staff reassess transgender prisoners’ housing assignments twice a year “to review any threats to safety.”

Advocates hailed the standards as progressive, but to prison officials, they represented a big shift. “If you want to see a corrections professional’s head explode, have them understand they need to take an inmate’s view into account,” Smith says.

As a federal agency, the BOP must follow the PREA standards. But Congress provided the agency some protection: PREA does not create a “private right of action,” which means that individual prisoners can’t sue the Bureau for violating the standards.

“It’s the law that they have to follow the PREA standards, but there’s not really anything you can do about it,” Owen says. “Certainly, we can clamor for them to do better. But I can’t sue if they just violate one of their standards unless it rises to the level of an Eighth Amendment violation.”

Owen and Hartley believed that Hill’s case did. But the BOP approached them and asked to negotiate a settlement. The decision was ultimately up to Hill, and Owen can’t disclose the reasons that she chose to settle. In general, Owen says, civil lawsuits can take a long time to get to trial, and a trial may require a defendant to relive painful trauma.

The settlement agreement was finalized in May. It requires that Hill be housed “with a pre-screened cellmate” and that her opinions on who that cellmate is be given “serious consideration.” The BOP also agreed to re-evaluate her cellmate assignment within seven days if she notifies prison officials that her cellmate is threatening her.

The BOP did not agree to house her in a cell by herself, nor did it agree to move her to a women’s prison, both of which the lawyers asked for. Instead, the settlement agreement stipulates that every six months, the BOP will re-evaluate whether to house her at a men’s prison. It does not say what that evaluation will be based on or what it will take for the BOP to change its mind.

“It really is about the genitalia,” Owen says. She explains that “we ended up with the settlement agreement language…in an effort to get the case resolved.”

Much of that language is straight out of the PREA standards. It’s unfortunate, Owen says, that it often takes a lawsuit to get prisons to follow their own rules.

“Part of the reason for that is because there is no accountability,” she says. “I see it every day: They violate the law, knowingly violate the law, and say to people, ‘What are you going to do about it?’ So we get to this point where you have to codify things that are already in the law.”

Bureau of Prisons spokesman Ed Ross declined to discuss Hill’s case. He says that the BOP does not “provide information regarding custody and care matters related to any specific inmate.” The Colorado U.S. District Attorney’s Office, which represented the BOP in the case, also declined to comment.

Ross did answer some general questions in writing, however. The BOP has a national office, he says, “that coordinates PREA mandates and ensures compliance.”

Transgender inmates “are assigned to male or female facilities based on a thorough review of all the available information” by a multidisciplinary team, he says.

The agency “does not have a specific policy requiring single-celling transgender inmates,” he adds. “This would likely be discouraged, as transgender inmates should be treated as all other inmates and be part of the prison community.”

BEING PART OF THE PRISON COMMUNITY HAS PROVEN TO BE NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE FOR HILL. She landed behind bars well before Caitlyn Jenner graced the cover of _Vanity Fair_ and well before the advent of _Orange Is the New Black_, a show that takes place in a women’s prison and depicts a transgender prisoner played by Laverne Cox, a real-life transgender woman.

However, the recent swell of transgender awareness does appear to be infiltrating the world of corrections, advocates say. The federal Department of Justice’s statement of interest in the case of Ashley Diamond, a transgender prisoner suing the Georgia Department of Corrections, is proof. Diamond’s claims are familiar: She says prison officials did not protect her from being raped in men’s prisons and denied her access to hormone treatments. The DOJ’s statement addressed the latter claim only. “Failure to provide individualized and appropriate medical care for inmates suffering from gender dysphoria violates the Eighth Amendment’s prohibition on cruel and unusual punishment,” it says.

But that increased understanding hasn’t alleviated the day-to-day horror faced by prisoners like Hill and Diamond. Last month, Diamond made headlines again when her attorneys petitioned the court to move her to a different prison because she was raped by her cellmate.

So they continue to fight. In some ways, Hill’s lawsuit has improved her life. Last year, at the same time that Hill’s lawyers started negotiating with the BOP to settle her case, the BOP began providing her with hormone treatments for the first time. She’d tried to get them in Boston in 2006 after she was released from prison, but she says the community health clinic told her she didn’t qualify for free care. That was part of the reason she robbed another bank. “That’s when I gave up,” Hill says. “I was like, ‘That’s it. I’m going back in.’”

The settlement agreement stipulates that the BOP continue Hill’s hormone-therapy treatments. It also requires that Hill’s doctors evaluate her every six months to determine if additional treatments, including sex-reassignment surgery, “are clinically indicated.”

Hill is currently housed at FCI Butner, a medium-security prison in North Carolina. Even though it’s a men’s facility, the settlement agreement ensures that she can buy female commissary items such as bras, panties, ladies’ razors and women’s deodorant. It also says that the BOP won’t discipline her for dressing like a woman and wearing homemade makeup.

In addition, it requires the BOP to provide her with psychological treatment for her gender dysphoria, PTSD and rape-trauma syndrome, including biweekly talk-therapy sessions. Lastly, the Bureau agreed to pay her a sum of $70,000 if she agreed to drop her claims.

In all honesty, Hill says, that’s the part that will most likely change her life. She’s due to be released from prison in 2018, and she plans to use the money to pay for sex-reassignment surgery. In the meantime, she’s grateful for the hormone therapy, which is helping to prepare her. But she adds that she’s frustrated because the BOP recently lowered her dose.

She’s also frustrated by what she sees as a continued flouting of the PREA rules and the terms of her settlement agreement. “I’m supposed to be addressed as Samantha Hill,” she says. “They’re still calling me Mr. Hill and Scott Hill. One officer says, ‘You still have a pecker, right? As long as you still have a pecker, you’re a guy.’”

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What’s more, Hill is back in the SHU. This time, she was put there as punishment. Although she’s in a cell by herself, which she says is good, she misses having access to the work assignments and classes that are only available to general-population inmates. A high-school dropout, Hill says she was just one course away from earning her GED when she landed back in solitary confinement a couple of months ago.

The reason she’s there is that her cellmate, another transgender prisoner, filed a complaint saying that Hill was sexually harassing and groping her. Hill says it’s not true. The two had been having problems for months, and Hill says her cellmate made several threats, which she reported to prison staff. But when she asked for a different cellmate, she and Owen say, prison officials told her they had just three others available. All of them were sex offenders, Hill claims.

So Hill stayed with her cellmate until the cellmate complained about her and Hill was moved to the SHU. Prison officials investigated, but the results were inconclusive, she says. Now, Hill has been told that she’s going to be transferred again. She doesn’t know where she’ll end up, but she’s afraid that all of the concessions she won in the lawsuit will go away. The settlement agreement requires that she stay at Butner until she’s released, but it also gives the BOP several outs, including that the agency can transfer her if she engages in misconduct that warrants it.

Hill says the BOP has broken her. “They have done what the Marines do to soldiers: They tear them down and rebuild them up,” she says. “The BOP has broke me emotionally and rebuilt me to where I never, ever want to set foot in prison again. I don’t care what I have to do stay out of prison. I’m going to live a square life, a simple life. I don’t ever want to come back.”

question: Why did Samantha Hill, back when she was Scott Hill, got incarcerated for the first time?

answer: She had a lot of juvenile delinquency charges for drug possession and robbery. The first time she went into federal prison was for bank robbery.

question: Why did Samantha Hill resort to robbery as a teenager?

answer: She was kicked out of her house by her stepfather. She resorted to prostitution and robbery to survive.

question: What were the problems Samantha faced as a child?

answer: She was born male, which her stepfather resented, according to her. She was raped as a child by her uncle, who told her it was love, and eventually assaulted another teenage boy when she was sixteen. She didn't know it was wrong. This got her kicked out of the house and she had to resort to robbery and prostitution.

question: What were the problems Samantha faced in the prison?

answer: Because she identified as female and had feminine characteristics, she was always regarded as prey by predatory inmates. Her pleas for help from the prison authorities didn't produce tangible results. She got raped many times over.

question: How did Samantha try to resolve her problems in the prison?

answer: She tried to get help from prison authorities. She contacted many lawyers, who didn't help because she couldn't pay upfront.

question: Why did Samantha go back to prison after being released?

answer: She wanted to get hormone replacement therapy. The clinic she went to told her that she wasn't qualified for free care. She decided to rob another bank, got caught, and sent back to prison again.

question: How did Samantha eventually find a reprieve from her problems in prison?

answer: A lawyer, Elizabeth Owen, decided to help her. While she had made no promises due to litigation requiring "cruel and unusual punishment", Samantha got raped around that time. This elevated her case, and with the help of another lawyer, Sarah Hartley, she successfully sued the Bureau of Prisons. In the settlement deal, she was promised a better selection of cellmates, hormone therapy, and $70K when she gets out of prison.

question: What does Samantha want to do after she gets out of prison?

answer: She's going to use some of the money from her settlement deal for sex-reassignment surgery. She's also adamant to never go back to prison.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: Samantha Hill, a pre-op transgender woman, gets incarcerated after an extremely abusive childhood. She gets raped repeatedly, and her pleas for help don't produce tangible results for a long time. Eventually, Elizabeth Owen decides to legally represent her when she gets raped after they talked, and she manages to get some concessions from the Bureau of Prisons in a settlement deal. These include a better selection of cellmates, hormone therapy, and $70K when she gets out. She wants to use part of the money she will receive for sex-reassignment surgery and is adamant to never step back into a prison ever again.


text:
NORTHFIELD is a stop on the Region of Waterloo's Ion rapid transit system.[1] It is located on Northfield Drive in Waterloo, between Parkside Drive and the Conestoga Parkway, at the existing railway corridor. It opened on June 21, 2019.

Access to the platform is from the north, directly from the Northfield Drive sidewalk; to the south, there is only an emergency egress on the eastern side, where a locked gate gives access for Ion staff to the Operations and Maintenance facility just to the south.

The station's feature wall consists of brown stone tiles with wavering variations.

Just opposite the station on Northfield Drive, in the same rail corridor, is the southern terminus of the Waterloo Central Railway tourist train to St. Jacobs and Elmira.

It marks a transition point between tracks running in the boulevard of a road in the direction of the Conestoga terminus, and open tracks running in a railway corridor in the direction of Uptown Waterloo. Just south of the station, the Waterloo Spur freight line merges with the southbound track; a short distance south of that, the line accesses the Operations, Maintenance and Storage Facility.

[1]

title: Northfield station (Waterloo)

question: When did the station open?

answer: June 21, 2019

question: Where is the station?

answer: Northfield Drive in Waterloo

question: What does the station's feature wall consist of?

answer: Brown stone tiles with wavering variations

question: What lies opposite the station on Northfield Drive?

answer: The southern terminus of the Waterloo Central Railway tourist train to St. Jacobs and Elmira

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Northfield is a stop on the Region of Waterloo's Ion rapid transit system. It was opened in June 2019 and is located on Northfield Drive. Opposite the street, there is the southern terminus of the Waterloo Central Railway tourist train to St. Jacobs and Elmira.


text:
The office was dull and dreary, as if someone unleashed a sort of gloomy gas that slowly leaked through the vents until it nestled snugly inside everyone’s despondent figures. The walls around him composed of hard unforgiving concrete, and the only real noise was the dull beeping of the printer going off in the background. People walked around slowly, unwittingly wearing scowls, most likely wondering thoughts of how it could have come to this.

The short big bellied man in front of him continued to speak, but the words seemed to drown in the helplessness that surrounded them. The stale air permeated his lungs spreading the depressing disease that infected the entire office.  Dead.  That seemed to be the only way to describe his thoughts on everything around him, dead.  The walls; dead.  The people; dead.  The company; dead.  There was no real life here.

He answered the fat man’s questions with what he wanted to hear, triumphs of jobs past, heroic actions that conquered once complex tasks, grandiose words that invoked intelligence and admiration.  He was a storyteller and his life was an adventure with experiences and accomplishments that this company wanted, no, that this company needed.   The fat man seemed oblivious to the cries of hopelessness around him, unaware of the lifeless eyes that looked across the table at him.  A faint “you’ll fit right in” only made his heart drop further into the complacency that imprisoned everyone else around him.  It was a feeling he knew well.  He was handed some papers as he walked out, contracts that would bind him to this soulless entity for as long as it could in an attempt to squeeze whatever life it could from him before spitting him right back out.

What others might have thought was the American Dream looked to him to be more of a drawn out nightmare. It was about that time when he realized that this was not where he wanted to be, not now, not ever.  He dreamed of something more, something that had meaning, something that could change the way the world works.

The sad fact of it was he was going to sign those papers.  He was going to join the mindless uninspired workplace chatter.  He was going to join in the mind numbing meetings, the onslaught of paperwork and the endless barrage of emails.  He found himself wondering how it came to this, and soon realized that he was indeed, going to fit right in.

title: Corporate Imprisonment (414 words)

question: What papers was the narrator handed?

answer: an employment contract

question: Who is the fat man?

answer: the narrator's new boss

question: Do the other workers feel, as the narrator does, that the corporate environment is sterile and uninspiring?

answer: yes

question: What does the narrator aspire to?

answer: an opportunity to change the world for the better

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator is shown around a corporate office by his soon-to-be boss and is offered a job. He's startled at the sterility of the environment, but takes the job anyway.


text:
I know a girl who lives in a house with some friends of mine, I can't tell you her real name but we'll call her Mary. Smooth pale skin, almost white, and short brown hair, long slender arms and fingers and a neck like a length of PVC pipe. She's beautiful in the same way that the alien girl from the Fifth Element is beautiful, kind of fucked up but still sexy. I've been round at the house a few times, my sister lives there with one guy studying pharmacy and another guy I knew in school. I'm sitting with my sister and old mate, the pharmacy guy is in his room probably jacking it over Skyrim. Mary pops into the kitchen and sees us, says hello, and then disappears into her own bedroom. She's watching documentaries. She's shy.
	“That Mary” I say to Daniel, “She's pretty cute. She's a real cutie-pie.”
	“Yeah she's great. She's a smart cookie, but got some weird shit going on though. Really fucked up shit.” He shakes his head.
My sister looks ominously at Daniel and me. My sister is a really good girl.
	“I don't think we should talk about Mary.” she says to us, decisively like she's holding a gun under the table pointed at our junk. “She's having a hard time at the moment.”
Daniel sucks on a beer and rubs his jaw. There's some disgusting blond facial hair clinging to his cheeks, chin and neck. It looks like sparse pubic hair on a tight scrot. I told him these exact words because I'm his mate but he ignored me. He thinks he looks like Tim Rogers. He doesn't heed the warning look from my sister.
	“It's been hectic here man,” he tells me. “All kinds of people trying to get in to talk to Mary. People in suits and-” my sister cuts him off.
	“Daniel, the last thing Mary needs is more people causing a fuss about it! Just drop it!”
I'm pretty interested now because it sounds like personal dramas, and there's a chance we'll get talking about Mary's pert breasts or maybe she's having sex with a woman these days. I dig stuff like that.
	“What's the story?” I ask Daniel. We ignore my sister's complaints.
	“All these people have been showing up, trying to get information about Mary, medical people and lawyers and shit. I don't know who they are. Anyway they're all trying to get their hands on Mary because she laid an egg the other week.” He shrugs his shoulders innocently. This is too much for my sister.
	“FUCK Daniel! You don't even know what happened yourself, don't talk about this stuff, it's absolutely nothing to do with us, not to mention just plain rude when Mary can probably hear us talking about her!”
	“Wait, what do you mean she laid an egg?” I ask Daniel.
	“Mary can't hear us from her room, relax.” He says to my sister, then turns to me with a blank expression on his face. “She laid a fucking egg man, I don't know. She went in to the hospital and they helped her deliver an egg.”
	“What, like a chicken egg?”
	“No it was a bit bigger.”
My sister gets up with a resigned look on her face and shuts the door between the kitchen and the hallway, then pours a vodka and tops it up with ice and soda water. She has it pretty strong. She gives up trying to stop Daniel talking about Mary's egg. I'm still not getting it at this point.
	“Was it like a duck egg or a goose egg or something? Is that some sex thing that people do?”
	“No, no they don't know what it was. They've never seen an egg like it before. Nobody could identify it, they had bird scientists and all sorts of people on the case.”
	“They're called ornithologists,” my sister corrects him like she's slapping a child. “They called them in when Mary couldn't explain the egg and ran some tests on it. From what we've heard it didn't match anything that we know about.” She sips her drink sadly. I can tell she's worried about Mary. She's a good girl, my sister. Daniel is rolling a joint but he's not very good at it. He keeps spilling chop all over the table in front of him, then picking it up bit by bit. He continues the story.
	“Anyway the doctors let Mary go home because there didn't seem to be anything wrong with her, but she's been recommended counselling and some other therapy and shit just in case.” He licks the paper he's holding and rolls it thoughtfully. “The strangest part is that Mary asked for the egg back. She kept it.”
We sit in silence for about twenty seconds, digesting this information. My sister has just started to speak when the door opens and Mary comes in. She seems oblivious to our conversation and goes to the refrigerator and gets out a bowl of leftover fettuccine carbonara.
	“Hey how is university going?” I ask her, more to break the tension than from any real interest. I know that she is studying to be a nurse and that she hasn't made many friends at school. I feel sort of sorry for her in a way, I know she's intelligent but she seems sort of lonely as well. Plus, she's got an egg now. Mary puts the bowl in the microwave.
	“Uni is fine,” she tells me distractedly. “I go on placement next month, I'm a little bit worried about it but it will probably be very interseting.” The conversation falls flat like a cool kid tripping over a box of VHS tapes. Mary is standing behind Daniel who sits facing me. He silently mouths the sentence “ask her about the egg” with his eyebrows raised. My sister starts to offer Mary a drink but she declines.
	“What are you watching in your room? A documentary?” I ask her, trying to remain tactful in spite of Daniel's suggestions.
	“Can we see your egg?” He spurts out before she can answer me. He's like the conversational equivalent of premature ejaculation at a funeral. We're all in stunned silence, I'm on the verge of giddy laughter. My sister punches Daniel right in the solar plexus, hard.
	“Why are you a dick?” She practically shouts at him. That punch winded him though and he just keels over in his chair gasping and looks up at me with irrepressible mirth in his eyes. She's right though, he is a dick. Mary turns to the sink silently, I think she's probably going to cry. My sister is shaking her head in her hands. The microwave beeps loudly. That carbonara smells fantastic. My sister gets up and puts her arm around Mary but the girl darts out of the embrace and flits through the open door.
	“Mary, wait!” My sister calls after her and turns to leave. She throws a baleful glare in our direction before she exits.
	“What the fuck is wrong with you? That hurt.” Daniel wheezes after her. When he can breathe again he leans back and gets the bowl of carbonara out of the microwave.
	“I've seen the egg, you know.” He tells me. I'm pretty interested. “I had to sneak into her room because she won't let it out of her sight. She was asleep and it was resting on a pile of her clean laundry.”
	“You're pretty disgusting man.” I tell him. He just shrugs. He puts the poorly rolled joint between his lips and lights it.
	“It's a nice looking egg.” He says.

title: Mary laid a fucking egg man

question: Describe everything about Mary:

answer: She has smooth pale skin, almost white, and short brown hair, long slender arms and fingers and a thin neck. She is beautiful and smart. she likes watching documentaries. She lives with the narrator's friends and sister.

question: How are Daniel and Mary related?

answer: They are roommates in a shared apartment.

question: What is different about the egg?

answer: Scientists can't identify it. it's bigger than a chicken egg.

question: Why did Mary lay an egg?

answer: Nobody in the story knows.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: In this story, the narrator goes to his friends' apartment and learns that one of the residents there laid an actual egg. It's a mystery how it happened, but Mary opted to keep the egg.


text:
Béla Bánáthy}} BÉLA ANTAL BÁNÁTHY (born 1943 in Budapest, Hungary) is an American systems scientist, who teaches part-time at the International Systems Institute at the Saybrook Graduate School.

Biography

Bánáthy received his B.S. from California State University, Fresno in 1965, his M.S. in Information Science from Washington State University in 1969, and his Ph.D. in Educational Administration from the U.C. Berkeley, in 1991.

In 1969 he started working at the Monterey Peninsula College, where he chaired the Department of Computer Science and Information Systems from 1973 to 1997. From 1974 to 1990 he served as Director of the Computer Center. He joined Saybrook Graduate School as an adjunct faculty member in 1993 and teaches courses in Systems Inquiry.

Bánáthy has been an active member of the International Society for the Systems Sciences (ISSS), and has served as Chair of the ISSS Council, Chair of the special interest group on Information Systems Design, on the Editorial Board of Applied Systems Studies, Organizational Transformation & Social Change, and the International Journal of Information Technologies & the Systems Approach. He was President of ISSS in 1999. He is a Research Fellow of the International Systems Institute,[1] a member of the General Evolutionary Research Group,[2] Member of the Executive Board of the Institute for 21st Century Agoras, and is working with the Foundations of Information Science research group.[3] Béla A. Bánáthy is the son of systems scientist Béla H. Bánáthy.

Work

Bánáthy's research interests are in the fields of “the general theories of systems, theories of evolution, the foundations of information science, design of information systems, and design of social systems”. His research in the new millennium has focussed on the “relationship between the ontological and epistemological aspects of complex systems, and the development of a corresponding approach to ecological as well as socio-cultural informatics”.[4]

Publications

Bánáthy has published “several articles in systems related publications including: Behavioral Science, BioSystems, Cybernetics and Systems, Information Systems Architecture and Technology, Systems Practice, Systems Research, and World Futures”.[5] A selection:

-   1990, _Proc. of the ISSS Int. Society for the Systems Sciences 34th Annual Conference_, Béla H. Bánáthy, & B. A. Banathy (Eds.), Portland, Oregon, 8–13 July 1990.
-   1991, _Examining performance in community colleges: Data envelopment analysis as a means of increasing the domain of inquiry_, Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Santa Barbara.
-   1999, _Proceedings of the 43rd Annual Conference of the International Society for the Systems Sciences_, (eds.) Asilomar, CA, June 26 - July 2, 1999

Articles:

-   1996, “Design learning resources”. with: Jenks, L., Banathy, B. H., Christakis, A., Frantz, T., Hood, P., & Rowland, G. In G. Rowland (Ed.), _Proceedings of the seventh international conversation on social systems design_ (pp. 18–35). Carmel, CA: International Systems Institute.
-   1997, “Information, evolution, and change”, in: _Journal Systemic Practice and Action Research_. Springer Issue Volume 10, Number 1 / February, 1997.
-   1999, “An information typology for the understanding of social systems”, In _Systems Research and Behavioral Science_ 16(6), pp 479–494.
-   2000, “Navigating bounded and unbounded species” in: _Sys. Res._ 17 pp 481–484.

[1]

[2] General Evolutionary Research Group

[3]

[4] 2003 ISSS Annual Meeting and Conference, International Society for the Systems Sciences (ISSS). Retrieved 25 April 2008.

[5]

title: Béla A. Bánáthy

question: What does the text say about Banathy's education?

answer: He received his B.S. from California State University, Fresno in 1965. He received his M.S. in Information Science from Washington State University in 1969, and then he received his Ph.D. in Educational Administration from the U.C. Berkeley in 1991.

question: What does the text say about Banathy's career?

answer: In 1969, Banathy began working at the Monterey Peninsula College, where he chaired the Department of Computer Science and Information Systems from 1973 to 1997. From 1974 to 1990 he served as Director of the Computer Center. Since 1993, he has taught part-time at the International Systems Institute at the Saybrook Graduate School.

question: What does the text say about Banathy's family?