My Final Act of Service

Two years ago, I was built like a tank. I’ve been built like that my entire life, having grown up as a wrestler in high school and college. Once, way back then, someone looked at me and said, “What the hell are you?”
I look much different now. It’s hard for me to speak for long periods of time, and I’m about half the size I used to be. Now, I’m happy to just get up and walk, which is a mental challenge all by itself. The guy I used to be has been destroyed by chemotherapy.
In late 2015, I was diagnosed with stage-four cholangiocarcinoma, a rare and aggressive form of cancer that starts in the bile ducts. I don’t know how much time I have left; I may not even make it to my 55th birthday this December. But I’m happy that I can go knowing I’ve lived my life in complete service to others and to my family.
Except I have a teenage son, and there’s still so much to teach him.
I won’t be able to impart my wisdom to Mason as he grows up. That’s why I’m making sure he knows now the importance of living a life in service, like I have. The lessons are simple: Be humble, be open and be helpful.
Growing up, my father was constantly working, which meant he wasn’t around a ton. He did the best he could though, and I considered him my best friend. But I didn’t have someone who could mentally challenge me. I got into wrestling in the seventh grade, and my coach became that person for me instead. He ended up being a formidable figure in my life, and I’m still in touch with him today.
You could tell immediately that this man had served in the military — through his mannerisms, his attention to detail and his level of concentration. I thought, “This guy is incredible.” At an early age, my coach gave me advice that to this day I continue to take to heart:
“Don’t be a wise guy,” he would tell me. “Don’t be a showboat.”
Eventually, I joined the Marines, and that advice is what got me through basic training. Now, it’s something I teach Mason at every opportunity. We have a lot of big talks these days — especially now that I don’t know how long I have left to live — and I try to tell him who I was before the military.
I tell him not to be that guy.
When I enlisted in 1982, I was a very private person. In fact, you could say I was pretty closed off. But interaction with people is important, and you have to be open and outgoing. There is just something about being open to new experiences that makes life more meaningful. It also makes you not afraid to help people.

Time in the Marines inspired Anthony Egan to pursue a life of service.

There is nothing more gratifying than helping others, and there are many avenues for doing that — not just through the military.
I joined the Marines after one year of college because I simply didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. In fact, the movie “An Officer and a Gentleman,” about a guy who joins the Navy, came out right before I signed up, and that shaped what I thought the military was going to be like.
I was wrong.
My time in the military wasn’t like a Richard Gere action-romance film. It was tough, and it was terrifying. But it also made me grow into a man that started to think to myself, “What can I do to give back?” What the Marines did was laser-focus my attention and instilled in me the idea that, “Hey, you’re capable of a hell of a lot more than what you’re doing now.”
I left the service in 1988, and it haunted me for a long time. I just missed it so badly. I still say that the Marine Corps was the best job I ever had. But I can no longer regret leaving, because I have the best family God could give me, and I would never have met my wife and had Mason if I had stayed.
“What the Marines did was laser-focus my attention,” Egan says. “It instilled in me the idea that, ‘Hey, you’re capable of a hell of a lot more than what you’re doing now.'”

But here’s the thing: When you serve, the experience never truly leaves you; it always stays with you. Every time something tragic occurred, I would quietly shed a tear. When 9/11 happened, I was choked up watching the coverage on TV. I felt like I should be there — I needed to help.
So off I went to Ground Zero, wearing my old and dated fatigues from the ’80s, and was able to get my way onto the search and rescue team that pulled out the first five people. It was surreal; everyone had the same look on their face, much like how they talk about the empty thousand-yard stare of soldiers who served in Vietnam. There was a gray, pinkish powder in the air, like debris mixed with blood. And it covered everything.
My cancer, my family and I believe, has a direct correlation to my time helping on the pile. But I wouldn’t take any of it back, and Mason knows that.  
And that’s because service is part of me, now. I tell Mason constantly that being in service is such a selfless act. It’s contributing to something bigger than yourself. It just requires humility and the willingness to be open to help others.
Luckily for me, Mason already has most of these traits. But he’s only 14 and has a lot of growing up ahead of him and will face situations where I won’t be there to talk to him.
And that is the one thing that kills me — figuratively, of course — feeling like I’ve let down my son by dying too soon.
He’s talking right now of going to the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Md. I hope he does. He’s smart and creative, and good in science and math. I can see him being a biomechanical engineer or something similar.
But even if he doesn’t go into military, I just want him to be happy helping people. I tell him that if he sees someone who needs help, help them. It’s a really good feeling. I promise.
As told to NationSwell staff writer Joseph Darius Jaafari. This essay has been edited for clarity an style. Read more stories of service here.


Update: Anthony Egan passed away on Sunday, Nov. 19, 2017, with his family by his side. He served as a corporal in the intelligence unit of the U.S. Marines from 1982 until 1988. He then spent more than 20 years working in the pharmaceutical industry. He is survived by his wife and son in New Jersey.

They’re Finding Hope for Their Future in Comic Books and Journal Entries

When Kevin Vaughn Jr., a 15-year-old from North Philadelphia, wrote a letter to victims of police brutality, he did so from a perspective that many in his community say they share. Namely, that being young and black in America is a raw deal.
“I am sorry you were treated as something less than human,” he wrote. “No matter who or what you are, you should be respected as a human, a citizen, and an American. … Use your experience to make a difference.”
The letter wasn’t intended to be read by anyone other than him and his classmates, a group of about a dozen teens from some of Philadelphia’s poorest neighborhoods. Vaughn Jr. wrote it for a writing workshop that encourages young people like him to record their thoughts and feelings in a journal — punctuation, spelling and grammar be damned. The point wasn’t to get a good grade; it was simply recording his experience that mattered.
Vaughn Jr. is taking part in Mighty Writers, a program that teaches writing skills to students between the ages of 7 and 17. The nonprofit works with about 2,500 kids annually, exposing them to everything from playwriting to comic book creation through after-school classes, night and weekend workshops, and summer sessions. Boosting literacy skills is crucial in a city like Philadelphia, where nearly half of the population lacks even the basic reading skills to hold down a job. The idea behind Mighty Writers is that kids who master writing also make better decisions, have higher self-esteem and achieve greater success as they enter adulthood.
The first step is getting them to think creatively, says Amy Banegas, program administrator for the North Philadelphia chapter of Mighty Writers. This summer, Banegas, a 14-year teaching veteran of North Philadelphia schools, is holding weeklong summer sessions at the Mighty Writers location just north of the city’s burgeoning Center City neighborhood. It’s the fourth writing center the nonprofit has opened since its founding in 2009.
Despite downtown Philadelphia’s booming economy, the local school system is flailing. The cash-strapped district, which educates about 130,000 students, has had a hard time retaining permanent teachers, resulting in dramatically low test scores across the city. To save money, the education department will reportedly begin closing three schools a year starting in 2019.
All of this is bad news in a city where nearly a quarter of the population can’t read or write beyond an eighth-grade level, according to a report by the National Center for Education Statistics in 2003, the most recent year information is available. 
“Literacy is horrible in North Philly, from kids to adults. And as parents, you can’t help your child read or write if you can’t do it yourself,” says Banegas, who sees many sophomores enter her program at a fourth-grade reading level. “It’s sad that it’s not shocking.”

Kevin Vaughn Jr., 15, puts his thoughts on paper during a Mighty Writers workshop.

Mighty Writers’ network of 400 volunteers, made up largely of filmmakers, musicians and journalists, attempts to combat that by providing structure through consistent writing exercises based on the issues that affect the kids who attend. In one recent session, for example, students learned how to channel their voices to become advocates for justice and equality.
Mighty Writers measures the impact of their program by assessing participants’ writing development using a tech platform. Additionally, the organization tracks students’ self-reporting on writing motivation and writing stamina over time. Education director Rachel Loeper says that she’s seen improvement among the students who attend.
There have been other city-based organizations that are similar to Mighty Writers. One is Writers Matter  at La Salle University, which focuses on middle schools students. Professor Robert Vogel created the program in 2005 and says writing classes like it are imperative in urban areas with large populations of low-income and special-needs students.
“The writing programs in most large cities are pretty minimal and don’t really address the adolescent issues these students experience. Schools there just aren’t as well-funded as they are in suburban and rural areas,” Vogel says. “It’s a whole different social-economic dynamic in inner cities. As a result, the resources aren’t that good, and the challenges are much greater.”
At the Mighty Writers summer workshop that NationSwell attended, the topic at hand was the state of “being unapologetically black.” Students discussed police violence against African-Americans — specifically the deaths that have dominated headlines over the past five years — and then wrote in their journals. That these kids would have strong feelings about cops isn’t a surprise. In 2015, a federal study found that 81 percent of police shootings in the city targeted black residents in North Philadelphia. Just last month, a policeman in North Philadelphia’s 15th precinct shot and killed an armed black man after he was stopped for recklessly riding a dirt bike.
“It’s not just a workshop,” says Banegas. “It’s about self-growth and connecting to community.”
Those are qualities that Vogel, who conducted a three-year study on the effectiveness of his Writers Matter program, says are necessary for future success.
“There’s an emotional and social impact, and a building of confidence among the children that is hard to measure, but we’ve been able to see [those positive results] through interviews with [participants],” he says. “These kinds of programs have an impact that goes beyond the academic.”
Vaughn Jr., the 15-year-old who penned a letter to victims of excessive police force, says he’s learned to appreciate the practice of keeping a journal since enrolling in Mighty Writers.
“I find value in it because it’s a great way to let you know what you’re thinking and feeling,” he says. “It’s just keeping note as to where you are as a person.”
Homepage photo by Joseph Darius Jaafari
Continue reading “They’re Finding Hope for Their Future in Comic Books and Journal Entries”

Two Women Inspiring Families of the Fallen

In the spring of 2007, during his second tour of duty in Iraq, 1st Lt. Travis Manion was killed by a sniper’s bullet. His sister, Ryan, has always remembered his courage and his dedication to service and to doing the right thing. So much so, that she thought of herself as his younger sister, even though she was 15 months older.  
After her brother’s death, Ryan and her family established the Travis Manion Foundation in his honor. Their goal was to highlight the strength of character within the military community and inspire others to serve — both in their local communities and abroad.
Among the friends and family who helped Ryan and her family through their grief was Lt. (SEAL) Brendan Looney, Travis’s roommate at the United States Naval Academy. In direct support of the foundation’s mission, he dedicated his next tour of duty in Afghanistan to Travis.
But in 2010, tragedy struck again. Watch the video above to see how Ryan and Brendan Looney’s wife, Amy, have become the leaders of one of the country’s top veterans’ organizations.

E-Cycle Your Smartphone. Help a Veteran

Life on a forward operating base is dirty (no showers, only water bottles and baby wipes) and isolating. Supplies arrive via airdrops and internet connection can be fickle at best. On most military bases, deployed soldiers use WhatsApp to communicate with loved ones at home, but those living on remote ones are forced to make expensive, long-distance phone calls.
For those service members, seemingly antiquated calling cards remain the go-to.
Providing free talk time is the nonprofit Cell Phones for Soldiers. With more than 4,500 drop-off locations nationwide, the organization accepts donated devices: The newest are sold for market value, and the oldest are scraped for precious metals. (More below on the ones in between.) Profit from those sales goes towards purchasing calling card minutes. During the height of the troop surge in the Middle East, Cell Phones for Soldiers sent more than 15,000 calling cards each week.
With the number of deployed troops decreasing in recent years,  Cell Phones for Soldiers has expanded its services to serve veterans here at home. It works with all the major wireless providers to give free airtime — more than 500,000 minutes each month — to former service members.
As for those donated cell phones that are in good enough shape to be used? They’re given to vets, too. By the end of 2017, the organization hopes to sign up 100,000 veterans for free cell phones and service.
Bruce Jewett, a 55-year-old veteran living in Vermont describes the phone he received from the organization as “a godsend” and says that it helps him manage the 10 to 12 doctors’ appointments he has each month to treat his shoulder and back problems.
The organization also issues one-time $500 grants to service members who find themselves in a financial hardship, such as being unable to afford rent, dental bills or car repairs.

This Unconventional Method of Treating Veterans’ Trauma Is No Joke

After losing a close family member to suicide, Sam Pressler turned to sketch comedy as a means to cope, and later, to grow from the trauma and its consequences.
While in college several years later, he learned that the suicide rate among veterans at the time was 22 deaths per day.
“My mind immediately jumped to standup comedy as a solution,” he says, softly chuckling as if to acknowledge his slightly unconventional way of thinking.
Pressler created the first comedy class for veterans while still a college student. Today, as the founder of the Armed Services Arts Partnership (ASAP), his organization holds comedy stand-up bootcamps and improv workshops at no cost for veterans, service members and military families.
Comedy is a salve… For the veterans and military families, but it’s also deeply impactful for the audience. Too often, the veteran and military experience is focused on tragedy and ignores all of the ridiculous things that happen while you’re serving. Comedy plays to the other side of that, but it also gives a space to process experiences and flip them on their heads. Things that used to upset soldiers now become the basis for their material. It turns anger into something positive.
Performing… Is a very deliberate movement to bring civilian and military worlds closer together. Fewer than 20 percent of ASAP participants have engaged in the arts in the previous year. Anecdotally speaking, that’s a result of the civilian-military gap creating apprehension in engaging in the broader civilian world. Performing allows civilians to connect with veterans in a military space. It also shows veterans and military families that their community cares about them and that they belong.
When you laugh… You form a connection with the people around you. Comedy is a communal art form. Laughter requires community. You lean into one another; you feed off of one another. You also form a connection with the person performing. When veterans are on stage, it gives them the feeling that they have an engaging, accessible voice in their community.
Once you’re an artist… You’re often drawn to use a unique voice to speak on behalf of others. One of our comics who has a service dog advocates on Capitol Hill for service dog organizations and has become an advocacy leader in other parts of his life. Another speaks at conferences about what life is like after three traumatic brain injuries.
To help veterans reintegrating… Communities need to boost their understanding and connection to returning service members. A very important part of the reintegration process is not feeling isolated. Veterans need to feel like they belong and that they’re respected. People should listen to their experiences and not just thank them for their service. We need to understand how their service impacted them.
Reporting by Chris Peak
MORE: This Is Why Hollywood’s Depiction of Veterans Must Change

How President Trump’s Federal Budget Hits 3 Model Programs Gradually

At NationSwell, our mission is to highlight solutions driving America forward. From rural Appalachia to South Central Los Angeles, we’ve covered the work of dedicated individuals fighting to improve people’s lives. Here are a few updates on how President Trump’s proposed federal budget cuts to social programs could gradually rollback the positive impact made by these initiatives.
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Helping Veterans Help Each Other

In 2006, journalist Bob Woodruff had made the long trip to Taji, an hour north of Baghdad, to report on the Iraq war. Having recently been named co-anchor of ABC’s “World News Tonight,” Woodruff’s life changed in an instant, when a roadside bomb struck his armored vehicle. The newsman was nearly killed, and after a long recovery, he eventually returned to journalism. He also started a foundation to help service members and their families. Overseen by NationSwell Council member Anne Marie Dougherty, the Bob Woodruff Foundation has raised more than $30 million to rehabilitate the injured, provide access to education and employment opportunities, and work to improve overall quality of life for veterans. NationSwell spoke with Dougherty about what veterans are facing as they return home from two Middle East wars.
How did Bob Woodruff’s brain injury shape the mission of his foundation?
After he was hurt in Iraq, he said, “We’re not special. People are suffering the same injuries, if not worse ones.” He was able to see firsthand the struggles of service members who come home injured. But Bob and his family were acutely aware that they had ABC News and [parent company] Disney to really make sure they were taken care of, in a way that’s maybe different from the resources a young enlisted soldier has.
In a weird way, the Woodruffs became this bridge across the military-civilian divide. They walk the walk. When Bob woke up from his coma and recovered, they could have quietly gone back to their lives. But they felt like they could use the extra attention surrounding their tragedy to raise money and awareness — and they don’t want any credit for it. That gives me energy, because it’s such an authentic commitment. It’s their way of expressing gratitude for his recovery.
As I understand it, the foundation’s mission is to help veterans recover from the war, both physically and spiritually. What does that look like to you, in the day-to-day?
We try to understand what’s going on in the active-duty military and veteran communities. We scan the landscape to identify what the policies are at the federal, state and local levels; what budgets are getting cut; what’s on the horizon with the next administration; and how all these pieces affect service members. Our role is to complement the resources the government provides. Once we know what’s needed, we go out and find organizations that have the relevant programs.

The Bob Woodruff Foundation supports the use of service dogs to help rehabilitate veterans.

Why does this work matter to you personally?
Shortly after Bob was injured, my husband was getting ready to deploy to Iraq as a marine. He didn’t end up going at that time, but we were staring down the barrel. After following the Woodruffs’ story, I had this thought in the back of my mind, “What if this happens to us?” I followed the thread through a marine wives’ network and was connected to the Woodruffs when they were literally running a kitchen-table operation. I was particularly interested in building the brand and its reputation. Instinctively, it seemed like there was an opportunity there.
There are roughly 40,000 veterans’ nonprofits out there. What do you look for when deciding which are worthy of funding?
A lot of what we think about is how to get outside the small ring of vets who are very proactive about joining programs. There’s a whole universe of veterans who are not taking advantage of the programs that exist. In a way, it’s like connecting supply with demand. After that, we take our due diligence seriously. When you’re running an organization with living namesakes, there’s a responsibility to create and uphold a certain standard. Getting a grant is a seal of approval. As the leader of the foundation, I have to set that standard every day, which is to be rigorous and consistent, transparent and accountable.
What’s one issue impacting service members that doesn’t get enough attention?
We were at war for the longest time in our nation’s history, but only 1 percent of the eligible population volunteered to serve. Because the wars weren’t being fought on American soil, there’s a huge disconnect, and frankly, people are kind of over it. That, combined with the current political climate, means the country isn’t able to focus attention — and therefore, resources — on what returning vets need. The health of our all-volunteer force depends on how we respond to veterans transitioning back into civilian society. If you can get out front of some of these very predictable issues, the trajectory can totally change. We’ve made huge progress — we are a very generous nation after all — but the risk is that we have compassion fatigue and short attention spans.
Is there a book you’d recommend to people who want to better understand the challenges vets face upon homecoming?
Sebastian Junger’s “Tribe” is an incredible explanation of something we intuitively already know to be true. When veterans come home — whether they’re injured or not — they struggle with a sense of purpose and meaning. In the military, it’s very clear what your role in the hierarchy is; you have your tribe. But eventually you wander back into regular life. You might miss being deployed. We need to understand that’s a human response and a very real sentiment.
How do you repair that feeling of disconnection?
Veterans helping other veterans. They’re drawn to service, and we’re creating opportunities for them to continue to serve. We know that by helping others like them, vets get healthier. They just want that human connection. Banks and other companies will say, “We’re gonna hire veterans; that’s how we’re going to solve veteran unemployment,” which is a very important piece of the puzzle. But there are a lot of people who join the military so that they don’t end up sitting in a cubicle at a big company. So we’ve taken on the challenge of finding opportunities, especially for service members who have been injured, that lets them work outside, doing something with their hands. There’s an organization called the Farmer Veteran Coalition, and it’s so simple: If you help a veteran afford a tractor, they can get a plot going. One of the grants from this group went to supplying a young farmer with mating turkeys. He calls it “dirt therapy,” just to be able to plant things and be alone in the peace and healing of the outdoors. On top of that, they’re growing organic food and participating in a farmers’ market to share this food with other people, and they’re attracting more veterans to come and work there. It’s having a multiplying effect.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
Note: Since the publication of this article, Bob Woodruff Foundation has become a NationSwell advertiser.

Giving Poor Kids a Leg Up in Youth Sports, Recruiting Vets to the Ivy League and More

 
Poor Kids Are Being Priced Out of Youth Sports: Here’s One Solution, Washington Post
Low-income parents often can’t afford to buy their children a $300 baseball bat or $250 hockey skates; they may struggle to scrounge up even the $50 fee to join a youth sports league. In Gaithersburg, Md., an outlying D.C. suburb, officials simplified the fee-waiver process — from an explanation why parents couldn’t afford the entry price to a simple checkbox — and participation shot up by 80 percent in high-poverty schools.
Veterans in the Ivy League: Students Seek to Up Their Ranks, Associated Press
Only three Harvard undergrads served in the military; at Princeton, only one. A new intercollegiate student organization, the Ivy League Veterans Council, is advocating that the elite schools’ administrations should do more to bring former service members into their colleges by recruiting soldiers as if they were athletes, establishing a veterans’ office on campus or accepting transfer credits.
King County Tries Counseling, Self-Reflection Instead of Jail for Teens, The Seattle Times
Which juvenile justice system seems preferable: one where kids leave hardened by disruptive prison sentences or one where teens emerge with a better understanding of themselves and their crimes? In a first attempt at restorative justice, the top juvenile prosecutor in King County, Wash., put one defiant, 15-year-old robber through 108 hours of hearings to see if self-reflection could change his attitude where prison cells had failed.

In Miami, Veterans Are Lawyering Up

When Guillermo Rose, 70, a retired Vietnam veteran, returned from a four-month trip in Panama, he expected to find his car where he’d left it: in a handicapped spot at the Miami International Airport parking garage, where disabled veterans were promised free parking. But the car had been moved elsewhere in the garage — and Rose had been slammed with a $1,600 bill for the space, far more than he could afford on his disability checks. He made the charge on his credit card and drove home, panicked.
Through his contacts at the American Legion and the VA, Rose heard about Mission United Veterans Pro Bono Project, which offers free legal assistance to South Florida vets. Housed within the Legal Aid Service and the charity United Way, a team of two staff lawyers and 380 volunteer attorneys help 1,500 former warriors, pilots, sailors and marines in Broward County annually with any legal questions they may have. Whether it’s fighting evictions, navigating family court, negotiating with creditors, changing discharge status or contesting parking tickets, the volunteer lawyers will take on any case. Within three weeks, Mission United had persuaded the Miami airport to reverse the charge — a small but important victory to a veteran who once felt ignored by American society.
“When I came back from Vietnam in 1971, they didn’t do anything for us: no jobs, no nothing. As soon as you’d tell employers you’re back from Vietnam, they weren’t interested,” says Rose, a disabled vet. “We’re treated better today than when I was a young guy. It makes me feel good that, finally, they’re helping out the veterans.”
Compared to half a century ago, veterans’ transition back into civilian society has been relatively smooth. While far from perfect, more medical options are available, the GI Bill still guarantees free college, housing authorities expedite applications from homeless vets, and job training can follow a tour of duty. Missing from that list, though, is legal help, which can affect everything else, note the attorneys who started Mission United three years ago. An improper discharge, for example, could limit a vet from receiving valuable benefits, or it might be misinterpreted by prospective landlords and employers as being found guilty before a court-martial.
This extra bit of know-how can be essential as veterans try to get their affairs back in order after years at sea or fighting abroad, adds Melissa Malone, a spokeswoman for Mission United. “These young men and women left their homes, their bank accounts, their family and kids. They left their lives here, and oftentimes, they put someone else in charge of it,” she says. “When they come home, it’s been a length of time and things might not be the same as before. Perhaps they have PTSD or some other war zone–induced challenges.” Seeing off-the-charts suicide rates for post-combat veterans from Iraq and Afghanistan, Malone wonders how many took their own lives because they felt mired in a situation where a lawyer could have intervened.
While some critics take issue with the program offering help only to veterans, its volunteers see an underserved population with a unique set of circumstances. Repeated experience working with the Department of Defense or a VA hospital allows the project’s attorneys to develop an expertise, says James Heaton, Mission United’s lead lawyer. The situation often necessitates “some specialty,” and that only comes from “dealing day-to-day with the issues facing veterans,” he adds.
Heaton says the project developed from a long-seated desire to work in public service. After graduating law school and moving back home to Broward County, he contacted several veterans groups to volunteer his time. When Mission United asked him to take a full-time position developing legal assistance for former military, Heaton says he couldn’t refuse. “I went all in, and I haven’t had any regrets since.”
These days, Heaton is working on expanding the model nationally. He presented the idea to other United Way chapters earlier this year at a conference, and he discussed building a national network at a recent summit hosted by the American Bar Association. While nothing is officially on the books, Heaton says he’s already seen a glimmer of what a national network could accomplish when he calls colleagues across the country to ask if similar legal developments are popping up in their communities. “It’s not only a network for veterans, but also a network for professionals.”
That’s good news to Rose’s ears. He never expected to need legal help, but he recognizes that only an expert could have helped him reverse the airport’s steep bill. “I’m just happy Mission United helped me out,” he says. “And I’m glad to let other veterans who might need legal help know where they can find it.”
Heaton emphasizes that former service members helped civilians by honorably serving our country. Mission United’s legal aid, to him, is simply paying back what we owe in return.
The Mission United Veterans Pro Bono Project is a recipient of the 21st Century Solutions grant powered by the NBCUniversal Foundation, in partnership with NBCUniversal Owned Television Stations. The grant celebrates nonprofits that are embracing innovative solutions to advance community-based programs in the areas of civic engagement, education, environment, jobs and economic empowerment, media and technology.
Homepage photo by Alex Wong/Getty Images

One Man’s Plan to Green the Coal Industry, Spotlighting Urban Blight With Public Art and More

 
A Curious Plan to Fight Climate Change: Buy Mines, Sell Coal, The New York Times
The lines in the so-called war on coal were drawn long ago: Sierra Club lawyers, on one side, clashed with Republican legislators and energy companies on the other. Tom Clarke, owner of a chain of nursing homes, set up a lonely camp in the battlefield’s middle ground. His nonprofit is buying up mines at bankruptcy proceedings, then selling the coal bundled with carbon offsets from tree-planting.
The Art of Breathing Lights, Albany Times-Union
At sundown in upstate New York, the blight is aglow with light. For the next two months, as part of a massive public art project, hundreds of vacant clapboard homes in Albany, Schenectady and Troy are being lit from inside with LED lights. Pulsing as if they were slowly exhaling, these abandoned houses refuse to be ignored.
The Children Who Saw Too Much, RYOT
Whipped with a belt buckle by his abusive stepfather, 17-year-old Ryan grew up believing all adults deal with their problems through aggression. At least, until he attended the nation’s first summer camp for children marred by domestic violence, where he learned, amid the Northern California pines and Klamath River rapids, about a different emotion: hope.