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On March 7, 1965, millions of Americans sat watching their television sets in horror. Grainy black-and-white news images from Selma, Ala., showed about 600 mostly African-American protesters trying to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge. They were marching to the state capital, Montgomery, to win voting rights in the Jim Crow South.

It used to be thought that college was where you went to open your mind, explore ideas and, in the words of Robert Maynard Hutchins, former president of the University of Chicago, “be freed from the prison-house of … class, race, time, place [and] background.”

Are charter schools helping to resegregate public schools? A just-released study states flatly that they are.

Earlier this month, hundreds of educators, parents and students gathered at the Educating Youth of Color Summit in Colorado Springs, Colo. That the state’s 4th Judicial District sponsored the event was no accident.

When you’re the only person of color in your class, school can become a struggle between two worlds.

‘Encounter experiences’ help pre-service and practicing teachers confront their attitudes about race and privilege.

No Child Left Behind is plunging many English language learners into the educational mainstream — and sometimes getting them in over their heads.

You’re forgiven if you missed it. Late last month, Congress passed and President Obama signed a bill that included text that “apologizes … to all Native Peoples for the many instances of violence, maltreatment, and neglect inflicted on Native Peoples by citizens of the United States.” Not only was news of the measure knocked from front pages by the health care debate and Tiger Woods, it was well-camouflaged within the 2010 defense appropriations bill.

red·skin \ˈred-ˌskin\(noun) usually offensive : American IndianNote the “usually offensive” — a warning from one of the more neutral arbitrators of American English, Merriam-Webster. “Redskin” is a pejorative term, and should be used with caution, if at all.

A couple of nights ago, I took my daughter to Chuck-E-Cheese, a tradition of ours when her other mother is out of town. We play skee-ball to win long rows of tickets that we later exchange for plastic toys and stickers. We play — it’s our way of lessening how much we miss the Mom who’s not with us. This particular evening something besides the blinking lights of games caught my eye, though.