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The story of Emmett Till, in part, represents a fight against erasure and mistruths. Recently, a group of students joined that fight.

Forty percent of Americans believe that God created humans in their present form 10,000 years ago, according to a Gallup poll released late last week. In other words, they subscribe to creationism.

Have you ever been the only (fill in category) person in the room? Race, class, gender, age, body type, marital status—any number of identifiers can place us outside the norm, depending on the room. Otherness is a specific experience, especially for those who don’t live it every day. A couple of my students unwittingly placed themselves squarely into the role of “other” in an assignment outside our classroom, and I suspect learned a more powerful lesson than I ever could have taught them in class. The assignment was to find, attend and write an article covering an event. When two students proposed attending a senior citizen fundraising fashion show on the other side of town, I immediately approved the idea.

When JT Eberhard of the Secular Student Alliance (SSA), an organization providing support to nontheistic students, received a letter from a teacher bragging about blocking formation of an atheist club, the lack of a return address didn’t slow him down. He used the email address provided by the sender to locate the teacher and alert administrators.

During Ramadan, some Muslim students in this educator's school spent time in the media center during lunchtime, but most suffered in the cafeteria. She and her staff worked to change that.

Answers to your toughest social justice questions.

Teaching Tolerance loves to read! Check out a few of our favorite diverse books for readers and educators.

An essay by the 2008 Democratic Party Presidential Nominee.

Banning a book can go like this: An outraged parent complains about a book to the school librarian or principal. After a noisy debate, the school administrators decide that the book should be removed from circulation. Or, banning a book can go like this: A librarian receives a new book. Perhaps it shows LGBT issues or atheism in a sympathetic light. Perhaps it portrays civil rights struggles in a way that might offend some local sensibilities. Whatever the reason, she quietly puts the book in a back room. Then she politely discourages questions about it.

When I was in fifth grade and new to suburbia, my teacher introduced the concepts of racism, civil rights and fairness. And she began the task of helping 10-years olds—all of us white—learn how to talk about race in constructive ways. I’d moved from a gritty urban neighborhood where whites, blacks and Puerto Ricans lived together rather warily. My parents maintained a chilly silence on the issue of race, although they forbade racial epithets; on the street I heard plenty. In this place, the black kids came mostly from the projects, the Puerto Ricans lived in apartments and the better-off among the white families might have an entire house. I knew that race divided.