The last time I sat at the United Nations headquarters was for a conference on HIV and AIDS seven years ago. In January, I returned for a conference on the same topic, this time focused on how sports can reinforce the messages of HIV prevention.
In the summer of 1960 I found at my local library in Springfield, Massachusetts, a book on Notre Dame. Now, almost 54 years later,I’ve been a student, a parent, a faculty member, an administrator, an advisory council member and, of course, an alumnus. So when I happened across another copy of the book, Notre Dame: the story of a great university by Richard T. Sullivan (Henry Holt and Company, 1951), I wanted to read it from that perspective.
The transition is instant. As the door opens, I step out of the pleasant air conditioning and I’m instantly hit with the thick, full heat of a Ugandan morning. This morning, like all mornings here on the equator, is just picking up steam as the sun heads toward the highest spot in the sky.
The 2014 poster: “Looking Out Father Hesburgh’s Window”
The scene is so absurd. It’s 9 a.m. in New York City and thousands of people rush, straight faced, to wherever they need to be. And then there’s Geoff, relentlessly happy, sending sparks of enthusiasm to anyone who walks by.
I grew up under the cloud of Cold War hostility. The Olympics became a staging ground for international rivalries, with U.S. athletes doing their patriotic best to beat Soviet bloc countries and show which political and economic system was superior. Athletes, whether they liked it or not, bore the weight of global power posturing.
More classic Molarity.
By Gina Costa
The printing press, the Black Death and a meteor laid the groundwork for the monumental achievement that is Dürer’s Apocalypse.
While challenging, practicing medicine without modern resources is to rediscover the art of medicine.
I knew what had to be done, not that I’d actually done it before.