A request from bradygirl_12, and my first post. Frankly, it's a fun comic. 7 pages out of 22 below the cut.
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Students of political despair (a popular field these days) might consider the case of Robert Parris Moses. He was a twenty-six-year-old high-school math teacher in New York City, when, in 1961, he set off, alone, to register African-American voters in Mississippi. At the time, fewer than seven per cent of eligible African-Americans in the state were registered. Local officials kept the number low by means of literacy tests, poll taxes, and violence—aimed at those trying to register and, particularly, at those seeking to register others. They included Moses and a small band of colleagues in the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee who joined him. He was beaten repeatedly, once nearly to death. A quiet, almost serene figure, he came to exemplify a special kind of civil-rights worker, who, as Taylor Branch wrote, in “Parting the Waters,” “chose to isolate himself deep behind the lines of segregation for years at a time, armed only with nonviolence.”
It's been a day.
STW FOR THE HOLIDAYS: Holiday shipping deadlines have been posted for all cards / stickers / boards / prints / labcoats, so if you're interested, make sure you take action in the right amount of time!
And STW shirts have similar deadlines! So go get 'em if you want 'em! (10% off on shirts through December 5th with code 'CHRISTMAS16' by the way)
Recently, you posted an email about someone who had discovered a secret in a book that ultimately brought comfort in a time of need. After so many years of reading about how people hide their own secrets in physical books, I have to admit I had never once opened one in a bookstore.
After a particularly rough couple of days last week, I was compelled to get up and go straight to Powell’s. I told myself I had to keep having just a little bit of hope, and that it would be a sign if I found a secret. I sat on a stool in front of of the shelf, and opened one book after another. I was ready to give up, but there was one book left.
To my surprise, as I flipped through I found a hand written note. Just the simple act of holding it in my hands renewed my faith. Thank you so much for building this community that truly brings people together and reminds us that we are not alone.