Reader Responses: New York Home Years - What We Learned and Loved About NYC
- dinsroshardsajorso
- Aug 16, 2023
- 7 min read
Finally, permanent supportive housing has been found to be cost efficient. Providing access to housing generally results in cost savings for communities because housed people are less likely to use emergency services, including hospitals, jails, and emergency shelter, than those who are homeless. One study found an average cost savings on emergency services of $31,545 per person housed in a Housing First program over the course of two years. Another study showed that a Housing First program could cost up to $23,000 less per consumer per year than a shelter program.
Automated Meter Reading (AMR) devices are small, low-power radio transmitters that connect to the individual water meter in your home. These devices send your water meter readings to a network of rooftop receivers throughout the city. These receivers provide DEP with all relevant water consumption and billing information and eliminate the need for meter readers to visit your property. To learn more, visit Water Meter FAQs.
reader responses new york home years
DOWNLOAD: https://jinyurl.com/2vEOX2
Home Words: Discourses of Children's Literature in Canada, edited by Mavis Reimer, offers ten essays, each of which approaches the idea of "home" through a different critical lens. From Andrew O'Malley's examination of how Robinsonade narratives enact domesticity as colonization, to Louise Saldanha's thesis that Canadian multiculturalism offers more a strategy for managing difference than a genuine commitment to cultural pluralism, these chapters offer careful consideration of how and whom "home" includes and excludes. Taken collectively, they enact the sociolinguistic mapping of Raymond Williams's Keywords--on which the title of Home Words productively puns, and to which Reimer acknowledges her debt. As she notes in her introduction, "the multivalency of the concept of home means that senses can be separated from one another and opposed, as well as conflated with one another" (xv). In exploring these variant and conflicted meanings of "home," she chooses, wisely, to make the project "an untidy, rather than a finished, one" (xii), thereby inviting readers to continue the conversation.
Finally, about returning home. I have had an urge to move back to my home country for a few years now. Not least pushed by my partner's wishes to move there, too. We were actually close to moving there this time around, but alas, it did not work out that way. It looks like I have another opportunity coming up in a few years and it terrifies me. Am I placing too many hopes on it being amazing, will I hate it? Will I forever not feel at home in a country that is pretty much foreign to me apart from my appearance, passport and my mother tongue? And yet, I want to trust my instinct that this would be a good move at some point, not least for my children. And finally, when will I stop moving my loved ones around? My partner, and I, do feel like we want to settle somewhere eventually. Buy a house with a garden (I know, so cliche). That requires commitment. And I wonder: Am I capable of settling somewhere?
For this week, we collect a batch of reader responses on the recent newsletter, as well as topics that we\u2019ve explored recently, ranging from the atomic bomb to restorative justice. (Reader Responses, Part 1 is here; Part 2 is here.)
Both of your pieces reminded me of how confusing homesickness is. I spent all three years in France missing China so much I often felt physically unable to leave my apartment from anxiety and sadness. But I also spent lots of time coming to terms with how my comfortable life back home was sheltered and privileged in many ways. When I read Jasmine\u2019s response, I related to hating that \u201Cstuck between two worlds\u201D trope. And my mother, like hers, hated the idea of me going back to Asia. Her dream has always been for me to leave, no matter how many times I called her crying about wanting to go back.
In both worlds, I was sick of being a party trick, a novelty or a literal \u201Cdoll.\u201D So keeping to myself at home was always the easier option. It's taken me years to realize how I internalized all of it. A lot of my anxiety and reclusiveness comes from this insecurity of wanting to seem normal and unassuming wherever I was. In my studies at university, I definitely channeled any opportunities to research and write by choosing topics related to China or broadly identities that are hybrid. It was one of the only ways I felt I was being \u201Cproductive\u201D in my confusion, maybe even overcompensating for my disconnect.
Pantin, a formerly working-class suburb of Paris inhabited now by post-colonial immigrant communities, became my home for four years. In Pantin, I met a retired Italian immigrant who had worked at the Renault car assembly line for most of his life. That had not been gentle to Pietro\u2019s heavy body, now also in his eighties; I often saw him walk outside my window with a cane in white, red and green\u2014the colors of the Italian national flag. When he was young, Pietro went to the movies more than three times a week, watching many of the same films I study now. I started to learn more about that generation of immigrants, who had abandoned Italy before the country\u2019s economy exploded, finding themselves once again on the wrong side of history.
The response was overwhelming, with many readers saying they could not only survive without TV, they would actually benefit without it. Many others said they gave up TV years ago and have never looked back.
Travis Welch of Greensboro, North Carolina I haven't had a TV for several years. What do I do? I spend time outdoors, cook, enjoy being around friends, read books, run, bike, and kayak. More importantly, what do I not do? I don't discuss commercials and TV shows with co-workers. I don't obsess over being home at a certain time to watch someone's fake life. I don't spend hours a day in a climate-controlled environment sitting in one place.
Mark Barry of Prescott Valley, Arizona My wife and I have been married 15 years and we have three kids (ages 6-12). We got rid of our TV 14 years ago right after we were married. Our kids have never grown up watching TV and they always make As in school. Since they don't have a TV to watch they will read books all day after they get home from school. Needless to say, they have excellent reading skills and win awards at school for the most books read. They even like to write their own short stories and have great imaginations.
Daniel Mendonca of Montoursville, Pennsylvania The writers strike is just a reminder to us of how great it is NOT to have television. Myself and my family have been cable-free for 11 consecutive years as of 2007. We do subscribe, however, to an online service that delivers DVDs at home so we can watch what we want. But it is great when we take our 6-year-old boy to parties and while other kids are glued to the tube, he just wants to play. We are not against cable -- our decision was not based on religious principles -- just based on the fact that we can find much better things to do with our time than watching TV. We ride bikes together, we read a lot, we play games, we engage in outdoor activities, weather permitting, and simply love the fact that 11 years later we still believe getting rid of cable was a great decision. We do not miss it.
Problem #2: Skill in Designing Response Strategies With equal zest I teach my course with a reader-response approach. With young adult works that we read in common, I engage the class in various response strategies. I encourage my students to notice how I elicit their responses to their reading and to use my approach as a model for their own teaching in their field work practice and once they are certified teachers. I call upon them to create and share a variety of different response strategies to accompany their independent reading.
This resonant and award-winning picture book tells the story of one girl who constantly gets asked a simple question that doesn't have a simple answer. A great conversation starter in the home or classroom--a book to share, in the spirit of I Am Enough by Grace Byers and Keturah A. Bobo. When a girl is asked where she's from--where she's really from--none of her answers seems to be the right one. Unsure about how to reply, she turns to her loving abuelo for help. He doesn't give her the response she expects. She gets an even better one. Where am I from? You're from hurricanes and dark storms, and a tiny singing frog that calls the island people home when the sun goes to sleep.... With themes of self-acceptance, identity, and home, this powerful, lyrical picture book will resonate with readers young and old, from all backgrounds and of all colors--especially anyone who ever felt that they don't belong. 2019 Nerdies Fiction Picture Book Award Winner Silver Medalist for Bank Street College of Education's Best Spanish Language Picture Books of the Year Named one of Kirkus Reviews Best Books of 2019 A Mighty Girl's 2019 Book of the Year Named one of New York Public Library's Best Books for Kids 2019 "Lyrical language and luminous illustrations. An ideal vehicle for readers to ponder and discuss their own identities." --Kirkus (starred review) "An enchanted, hand-in-hand odyssey [and] opportunity to acknowledge and celebrate the many, many backgrounds, roots, histories, of those who live in these United States." --Shelf Awareness (starred review) "A much-needed title that is a first purchase for libraries and classrooms." --School Library Journal "This touching book addresses a ubiquitous question for children of color, and in the end, the closeness between the girl and Abuelo shows that no matter the questions, she knows exactly where she's from." --Booklist "Although the book begins as a gentle riposte to narrow cultural and ethnic categorizations, its conclusion reaches out to all readers, evoking both heritage and the human family." --Publishers Weekly A Spanish-language edition, De dónde eres?, is also available. 2ff7e9595c
Comments