Dear editor,

          How would you feel if you had to miss school because teachers are striking? Great, right? Well, maybe not. In Chicago, teachers were striking for the following reasons: low pay, high health costs, they could be fired for anything, test scores will affect their salaries, classes are huge, and the building conditions are bad. I was against the striking because a child's education is more important than recieving a high salary. Also, I feel like they were asking for too much.
          A teacher should have a passion for teaching. Since it is a career, in my opinion, they would do it without asking for a raise. Yes, there is never enough money it seems, but when a kid is out of school and not learning, that's a bigger issue. There were children at home and parents trying to figure out what to do. Parents were taking off work to watch their kids, when they should have been earning their own salary to support them. The parents did complain, but they couldn't really do anything else but watch their children. Since the teachers were not teaching their students, they got behind on about two weeks of material. Just think about how behind the students are going to be now. Of course, they will catch up eventually, but I find it so unfair. A child's education and their opportunities to learn to the best of their ability is more fundamental than a raise to a teacher's salary.
          The teachers shouldn't have been complaining about their salaries. There are people in other fields that have some of the same issues. I think it selfish of the teachers. I do understand that they wanted their point to get across, but I feel like their salary is decent. If a teacher has a spouse with a salary, that adds to their money they need and use. Even if a teacher does not have another person, I think that they should be content with the amount of money they are earning.
           Of course, the Chicago teachers had their legitiment reasons to strike but a student's learning is more important and they seemed selfish to me. When you take a student's opportunity to learn, even for a short while, it really does affect them. Now, teachers have to squish all the material so the children can catch up and try to understand it. The teachers were selfish because there are many people who have a lower salary than them but don't strike. I know that everything in Chicago is more expensive than things are in Atlanta, but their salary is decent. I did understand why the teachers did what they did, but I was against the Chicago strike for those reasons and I'm glad that it is over now. Students can start going back to school and hopefully, the teachers were heard.

• Scrolling down your Facebook newsfeed, and suddenly, you get a notification. A girl has posted on your timeline and she insults you terribly so everyone can see. Cyberbullying is a coward's way of hurting you, to satisfy themselves. In my own experience, I have been harassed and emotionally hurt over texting and the internet. Honestly, it wasn't the worst cyberbullying out there but it still hurt. A few girls accused me of doing "this" and doing "that", when in reality I didn't.  When I look back on the situation, I think that they were so childish and it makes me laugh. But I laugh at the fact that they thought bullying me would make them superior to everyone else. It doesn't, at all. It made me superior, not better, because I was the bigger person and I tried my absolute hardest to not let it phase me. It did hurt, a lot, but it didn't change me. To get over this, I turned to my family and real friends. People should realize that other people's words and opinions about you, do not matter. I surrounded myself with postive people, unlike before. If you are being cyberbullied, here are a few tips.
  

• Relieve your stress in a positive way
• Don't try and get revenge
• Surround yourself with people who will not put you down

If you have ever been harrassed over texting, the internet, etc, how did you deal with it? If you have done this to someone, why did you do it?

            Sitting with a dead and scared look, was my daughter.
She was almost 5 then. Her birthday was October 12. I will never forget my
precious daughter’s birthday. The day she was born was a terrible day, but it
was also beautiful. It was terrible because I wasn’t there for her mother. The
only soul with her was our first child. Anthony, an innocent 7 year old boy,
was so confused and I’m sure, felt so alone. Anyways, my daughter,
Rosa, was sitting with that look because she knew something was wrong. She was as innocent as her brother. She was angelic, lingering, wavy fallow hair with big emerald eyes. I looked at her and she did the same.
          
            “Daddy, what’s wrong? You look sad.”

            I wasn’t sad. I was broken. My wife and Anthony were in
critical condition in the ER and it had to do with me. I just forced a grin and
stroked her hair. She responded with a hug and that smile of hers that made my heart melt. Rosa and I were in the waiting room. I messed up in the past, and the only reason I didn’t fall apart, was because of the support of Laura. She
was an astounding mother. Now, just by the doctor’s word, she and my only son could be pronounced dead. Briskly walking by the waiting room, were two
doctors talking to one another.

            “Dr. Renolds tried so hard but the lines of the mother and
son in room 298 went flat…”

            I blocked out every single thing after that. My heart dropped along with my whole world. My face was burning and my eyes were filled with tears of regret, pain, sorrow, and so many deep emotions I couldn’t figure out at the time. The doctor, a lean and dark man, walked up to me and Rosa. I’m guessing he knew that I knew.

            “Mr. Andrew,” Dr. Renolds stated with no emotion, “your wife
and son did not make it. I‘m so sorry.”

            What the hell was I supposed to say or do? This was my fault. If I was to get myself out when I stopped the drugs four years ago, this wouldn’t have happened. They killed my wife and son. All I had then was Rosa. I knew I had to protect her. 

            “Thank you, Dr. Renolds. C’mon Rosa.”

            She didn’t understand what had happened, but she understood that daddy was upset. We walked to room 298. Well, I dragged my feet while she had a small bounce to her walk. She wasn’t tall enough to see the nurses put the
ghost white sheets over their bodies. I took her tiny, loving hand in mine and we filed quickly out of the hospital. From that day on, I never talked about Laura or Anthony to anyone. Especially not to Rosa.

            Years passed, memories grew, and habits came back. I don’t remember when I started the drugs again, but why did it have to happen while I was raising Rosa alone? She was exposed to it most of her life, but the older she got, the more she understood and learned. I was so ashamed of myself, and I knew she was too. I knew that my problem wouldn’t stop anytime soon, so I just wanted to assure her of how much she meant to me.


            I cracked the door to her room open to see if she was awake.

            I whispered, “Rosa? You awake?”

            “Yeah daddy.”

            “You know,” I replied, “that you are my everything and I am so proud to be the father of a beautiful 14 year old but I know that you aren’t proud to be my daughter. I know that I’m in a bad place right now, but I promise I’ll try and get better.”

            Tilting her head and grinning, she sat up. She was trying not to cry. Even though I craved cocaine, I wanted to be there for my daughter even more than that and I was there most of the time. I knew when she wanted to break down, when she was the happiest, and every other emotion out there.

            “I have something for you, Rosa. It’s your birth mother’s diamond pendant necklace. I gave it to her before she died, which was right after you were born, as a promise to love her at all times. Now I want to give it to you, as my promise that I will always protect and love you.”
 
            Right then, tears started falling down her cheeks and she collapsed into my arms. My precious Rosa, a wonderful and strong young woman, was falling apart for a short while. It hurt me, but it was our moment together.

            I know it’s wrong to not bring your only daughter to her mother’s and brother’s graves, but the whole family swore not to tell her anything. This was because of my gang affiliation and I did not want her to be more disappointed in me than she already was. She just thought that they were just close to the family. Rosa was at a friend’s and I was standing in front of Laura and Anthony’s graves. I told them about the necklace, my promise, and everything else that had been happening. I didn’t visit them frequently. Probably because I didn’t like to cry all the time. I dragged myself to my car and just let each tear fall from my pink, puffy eyes, down my red cheeks.

            “How are you, Andrew? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
           
           What the hell? I twisted my body to see who it was. It was Laura’s sister, Samantha. She looked worried.

            “Oh Sam. I’m fine. How are you?”

            “Look Andrew. I’m going to make this as sweet and short as I can..”
 
             I heard sirens coming towards us. My first concern was Rosa, but I could tell it wasn’t what I thought. I gave her this confused and concerned stare.

             “You are an unfit father. You’re going to influence Rosa to do drugs,” she demanded, “you need to realize that her living with you is not a smart or responsible decision. I called child services. I know you’re very angry right now so that’s why I called the police. You can get very aggressive, you know and...”

             My head was pounding and I was beyond mad. I was pissed. I glowered at her and I wanted to break every tiny vertebrae in her spine. I just needed to hurt her.

            “Who the hell do you think you are taking my child away from me?” I spat.

             Everything from there was a fuzzy blur. I remember speeding down the roads trying to find my daughter, being forced down by the police while that bitch took my daughter away from me, and I was just dead inside. 

             Right now, I’m sitting in the visitors room of one of the toughest jails in New York. It’s October 12, 2012 and I know I’m sitting with a dead, scared look on my face. The only visitors they allow here are family so I‘m confused as ever. I have no family, except Rosa, and today is her 24th birthday. But she’s gone and probably never thinks about her own father anymore. I highly doubt that she would come to this dreadful place. My habits finally caught up with me when the police found my plethora of cocaine at the house, so empty and depressing, under my bed in small plastic bags. So stupid of me. Since then, I have not been able to wish Rosa a happy birthday in ten miserable years.

            A tall lady walks in, scanning the room. She finally sets sight on me. She walks toward me and stands in front of the table. I know who she is. I recognize the lingering, wavy fallow hair with bold emerald eyes but it’s just too amazing to be true. She’s still my same Rosa. Tears fall down my face but they aren’t the same ones that have fallen too many times to count in the past. Those were of pain, regret, and sorrow. These tears are of pure euphoria. I get up and hit Rosa hard, falling into her arms and instead of her shedding tears in mine the way she did ten years ago, I’m bawling more than anyone has before in my own daughter’s arms. She embraces me so tight and I feel wet drops drip down my neck. 

          We let go at the same time and we both sit down. We just sit there for a while. Then I noticed something very particular. She was wearing the necklace. Her mother’s necklace with the single diamond pendant.

           
           She must have noticed because she looked down at it and grinned and said, “I haven’t taken it off since the night you gave it to me. I think about you every day and I still love you more than anyone in the world could.”

           She gave me that same smile that melted my heart the day Anthony and Laura passed away. I’ve kept my promise to the best of my abilities. I couldn’t speak because if I did, I would choke on my words, which I have too many to say and I didn’t want her to see me like that. So I just took that same small and loving hand.
 
           “Daddy, can you please tell me what happened to my mother and anything else I need to know?”

            I stare at her for a second and then I smile because I start to think about
before and all our memories together. I knew it was time to tell her
everything.

            “You are so precious, Rosa.."

Imagine living in a country and being married to an Indian national for 22 years, and you still don't have your citizenship. This is happening for  Rukhsana Begum. She is originally a  Pakistani national but she has been living in India, married to  Khawaza Mubark and has four children in India. She has applied for an Indian citizenship but has been only delay for  a while. She told Indian media, "Just because of me, all my family members are suffering." She said this after she was denied to enter the Attari international railway station while on her way to visit Pakistan. She was asked to board the Delhi-Attari train to reach Attari railway station. When she arrived, she would board Samjhauta Express. Begum's husband said that they do not have any problems except that her citizenship is being delayed. I think that this is unfair because after 22 years, it just becomes ridiculous. I understand that it does take a while to gain your citizenship but she applied after staying the mandatory period of seven years. It has been 15 years since then. Do you think that this is fair or