My daughter has the good sense--and luck--to live not far from The Metropolitan Museum of Art. I took my granddaughter Avery there recently for her first lessons in the importance of art: she's all of four months old. We'd been there once before, when she was only three weeks old. That day we concentrated on the Greek and Roman rooms--and the new American wing. I'll be thruthful: she slept through most of it.



But on this last trip we had a mission. I wanted to begin to tell her the… Continue

Ever since she burst onto the national stage, Sarah Palin has complicated my work.



I hadn’t even finished packing my bag at the end of the Democratic Convention in August, 2008, relieved that I’d navigated the Hillary and Barack rapprochement—not to mention the huge spatial challenges of Denver (had events ever been so far apart?) when cable reporters broke the news that John McCain had chosen Sarah Palin as his running mate. Who? What???



And that’s exactly… Continue

Whenever we get anywhere near the 4th of July—and its permission to begin the light-hearted part of the year—I think about my Uncle Arthur. He was, without a doubt, one of the most free-spirited, un-angst loaded people I’ve known. And, July 4th was his birthday—or so he said.



My daughter, Elizabeth Hines, and I wrote a book about him and discovered all sorts of amazing things about him—and our country. The mouth-full title: Black Titan: A.G. Gaston and the Making of a Black… Continue

Thanks to Jodie Evans, I’ve just received a copy of ethnologist danah boyd’s talk from the Public Democracy Forum (PDF09) in New York City this week. Many colleagues attended and tweeted the conference, the most prolific being Ruth Ann Harnisch, who gets new media from her vantage point as a former journalist and current philanthropist.



I am particularly interested in danah’s take on social media networks, especially the trends she sees in young people’s participation. A media… Continue

The ride home on the A train last night was symbolic of our modern media age: I sat next to my son, each of us plugged into an earpiece of his aqua “gummie” earphones (the latest rage, I’m told), watching a video on his Ipod. It was Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” As two generations of Michael Jackson fans, we were paying perhaps a final homage to his brilliance and magic—and sadness.



We were, quite by accident, in Harlem last night as thousands of fans lined up for Michael’s tribute… Continue