Among the unending items we fact-check, spell-check, grammar-check and style-check at the mighty copy desk are the names of University of Michigan officials, guest speakers, Ann Arbor residents and students. Names are easy.
Hot air wafts from the oven in the kitchen of Linder Cooperative House, which looks semi-industrial with steel gray appliances. A hooded stove and two picnic benches tucked under a wooden table back into the far right corner of a chipping, bright orange wall.
I was never much of a teenager. It’s not as if I wasn’t a student; it was that I was absent so much — literally away from Northbrook, at debate tournaments once or twice a month, over the weekends — that I never felt as if I was really a member of my community.
At a May meeting of the Ypsilanti City Council, Amy Xue Foster — a Chinese-born, Troy-based businesswoman — proposed an ambitious project to construct a glittering high-end apartment complex on a patch of dilapidated industrial land.
When I was 14, it felt as if someone suddenly hung a strobe light over me. It refused to budge and followed me everywhere, the light piercing. I felt I was constantly glanced at, scrutinized and judged by everyone. I was wrong, but I didn’t know it back then.