It was billed as Woodstock for the Nintendo generation. The techno-freaks who gathered at the Hackers at the End of the Universe conference in the Netherlands last week had at least one thing in common with their '60s counterparts: they believed rules were made to be broken.
Most of the time, you'll find me in the slow lane on the electronic highway, but Apple Computer, Inc.'s Newton MessagePad, introduced last week, held out an irresistible lure: total control over all of life's little details like my schedule, my address book and my endless "To Do!' lists.
Like most reporters, Sandy Nelson of Tacoma's Morning News Tribune is a champion of free speech. But while her colleagues worry about pressure from advertisers, Nelson says the villains in her story are her editors, who shunted her off to the copy desk because she was active in a gay-rights organization.
Mention Howard Gardner's name to a growing cadre of educators and the response verges on the reverence teenagers lavish on a rock star. "I think Howard is a genius," says Ann Lewin, founder of the Capitol Children's Museum in Washington, D.C. Whether or not he deserves Lewin's label, Gardner is certainly a careful student of geniuses.
It could have been just another dull report, one of thousands issued annually by faceless bureaucrats and academics. But "A Nation at Risk," published 10 years ago this month by the National Commission on Excellence in Education, proved to be a landmark in the history of American school reform.
They were high-school football players, the pride of an affluent New Jersey suburb. But they were accused of a shocking crime: brutally ramming a baseball bat and a broomstick into the vagina of a mentally retarded young woman while nearly a dozen of their friends cheered.
His broken nose, a legacy of amateur boxing, keeps Liam Neeson from conventional leading-man handsomeness. But women who saw him awaken Diane Keaton's passion in "The Good Mother" or romance Mia Farrow in Woody Allen's "Husbands and Wives" understand the Northern Irish actor's appeal.
The Decision was as eagerly awaited as a high-level cabinet appointment-or the color of Hillary's Inaugural ball gown. The Clinton family ended the suspense last week, announcing that 12-year-old Chelsea will attend an exclusive private school, Sidwell Friends ($10,400 annual tuition), instead of one of Washington's much-maligned public schools.
Karina O'Malley's ivory tower is anything but. A parade of young mothers, many with children in tow, walk past her open bedroom. Some poke their head in to ask a quick question, but most respect the raggedy strip of duct tape in the doorway that marks the space inside as her own.
Just because you're a hit out of town doesn't mean you'll shine on Broadway. Look at Joseph Fernandez. When he came to New York City from Miami three years ago to run the nation's largest school system, Fernandez had a national reputation as an innovative educator with lots of political savvy.
All my life," says teacher Renate Remke, "I wanted to see the Brandenburg Gate from the other side." In November 1989, hours after her fellow East Berliners began smashing the wall, Remke joined the throngs pushing through the huge stone gate that had stood for decades in no man's land between East and West.