By National Head Start Association

Ron Herndon Head Start Parent Scholarship awardee Paris Hill, of Sunbelt Human Advancement Resources in Greenville, South Carolina, says that Head Start has been instrumental in reaching her dreams.

“Head Start made me sit and realize my goals and what steps I needed to take to achieve them. They show compassion, love, and dedication to helping parents. They push you to do, to be, and to do better—not only as parents but for yourself.”

Hill embodies the spirit of NHSA’s Ron Herndon Scholarship, which celebrates a Head Start parent who goes above and beyond in their community.

During the pandemic, Hill participated in virtual classroom instruction with her children and engaged in parent virtual activities such as Parent Committee meetings and financial literacy classes. She recently contributed over 96 hours to her program.

“I never thought I would be here before Head Start. It was rough. No childcare, job loss. I’ve been helpless,” she shared on stage at the National Head Start Conference in Baltimore. “When I applied, I did not think my daughter would get in. When I got the call, I cried tears of joy.”

Hill enrolled in college and pursued a bachelor’s degree in applied sciences with a concentration in business management. She has met and exceeded her personal goal of becoming a nail technician and creating her own business.

The $2,500 parent scholarship supported her vision. “Head Start made me sit and realize my goals and what steps I needed to take to achieve them. They show compassion, love, and dedication to helping parents. They push you to do, to be, and to do better — not only as parents but for yourself.”

She has an uncommon career goal — to become a mortician — and has already found part-time work. She has found it rewarding to assist families who were going through challenging times because of the death of a loved one.

“When I first applied for the parent scholarship program, I was excited and this was my time to show what I’m capable of. It fills my heart with joy knowing I had a team of teachers and directors pushing me to do better and acknowledging me as parents and not just as a mom.”

Author: Eriq La Salle, Copyright: c.2026, Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press, SRP: $18.99, Page Count: 304 pages

Finally, after so much work, you’ve left your past behind.

That’s what you tell yourself: what’s done is done and you can’t undo history. It’s over. You try not to think about last month, last year, a decade back because what does it matter? As in the new novel, “Laws of Solomon” by Eriq La Salle, remembering is too full of pain.

The monsters that came to him early in his sleep were the easy ones. It was the later demons that stole Solomon Nangobi’s sleep, the spirits of all the people he killed when he was a child soldier in Uganda, and when he was a fixer in New York as an adult. Their ghosts called to him with urgent voices, though he left that life behind long ago.

Now, his days were filled working the soil in gardens near Malibu, and he loved the quiet life.

Still, he kept his guns.

And he was glad: when Solomon recognized two Zeta gunmen stalking a well-dressed man, woman, and child through the gardens, he couldn’t walk away. He stopped the gangsters with bullets, but not before the adults and their bodyguards were dead. The child, an 8-year-old boy named Gaby, was safe, but Gaby couldn’t tell Solomon what was going on.

What became quickly certain, however, was that Solomonwas now Gaby’s guardian, and the Zeta crime boss wanted them dead, too.

When he was the same age as Gaby, Solomon saw unspeakable things, the murder of his parents, the destruction of his homeland, and the atrocities that Uganda dictator Idi Amin’s soldiers committed. He learned to kill, he observed, and he was hardened, understanding as a small boy that revenge was often necessary and needed, and that blood would shed at those times.

But Gaby was pure, an innocent, a child.

Solomon reached out to his contacts to try to get the boy to safety, but being a contact of a marked man was likewise a dangerous thing: the monsters outside were worse than the ones inside him.

Two words for you: ‘Whoo weee.’ That’s what you’re going to say when you close the back cover of “Laws of Solomon,” knowing that you’ve just been taken on a wild up-and-down, around-and-round ride.

La Salle makes it impossible not to like Solomon, an African man who has, over time, lost nearly everything dear to him and who has no faith in much of anything. Readers get that part of the story eventually, and there’s historical authenticity in some of it, but we never really get to know Solomon, which makes the book feel dark and dangerous. Along the way, we meet and get to know his helpers, which buoys Solomon’s chase to find safety for the boy, and your heart won’t stop pounding.

Keep in mind that this is a thriller partially set in 1970s Uganda, so expect lots of violence but don’t expect a lot of people to live. If you’re up for that, find “Laws of Solomon.” You won’t be able to leave it behind.

By Emil Amok Guillermo

I was quiet about 9/11 until this week, when terrorism got an upgrade.

Artificial intelligence.

I have taken 9/11 seriously every year. Twenty-five years later, I was all “feeled out.”

I’ve gone to Ground Zero. I’ve written about the dead, the survivors, the first responders and those who survived that day only to become sick years later.

But this isn’t another column about where we were.

It’s about what America became.

For me, September 11, 2001, marks the beginning of a New America. Not the diverse, multicultural America I hoped was emerging.

This is the America that fear built.

I was 3,000 miles away in the Bay Area watching CNBC.

Then the planes hit.

The markets shut down.

And something else opened.

Fear.

At first, fear brought us together. We had a common enemy and, briefly, rediscovered a common good.

But fear is a terrible foundation for democracy.

The person we feared was initially the terrorist.

Then the Muslim.

Then the Arab.

Then the Sikh mistaken for an Arab.

Then the immigrant. The undocumented. The person at the border.

The category continues to expand.

Maybe that’s the real 25-year story of 9/11.

We went from finding common ground to looking for flaws that prove somebody doesn’t belong.

The terrorists didn’t invent American racism, xenophobia or political paranoia. We shouldn’t give 19 hijackers that much credit.

But after 9/11, America built an enormous security structure around fear.

Surveillance expanded. Wars followed. Congress created the Department of Homeland Security. TSA transformed airports. Immigration enforcement was reorganized and ICE was created.

Temporary emergency became permanent infrastructure.

Recently, Anthropic researcher Jacob Coxon quit his job and warned that people building advanced AI genuinely believe it could kill humanity by the end of this decade.

He walked away two months before his Anthropic equity vested.

That’s credibility.

President Trump has taken a different view. On Sept. 14 he called fears of AI destroying humanity a “HOAX” and declared, “WHOEVER WINS AI, WINS!” He said the only guardrail AI needs is a “STRONG AND SMART (High IQ!) PRESIDENT.”

We have built the threat.

We finance it. We feed it our words, photographs, voices, art and knowledge. We invite it into our homes and carry it in our pockets.

Americans are confronting something genuinely frightening.

AI could eliminate or transform jobs. And its increasingly powerful systems raise questions even some of their creators say they cannot fully answer.

So, the question what do we do with fear without surrendering our common humanity.

That requires real leadership and oversight from Congress, if not the president.

Trump insists Iran can’t have a nuclear weapon. But on AI, his emphasis is winning the race, especially against China.

That’s the trap.

Fear of China becomes the argument for going full speed ahead.

Twenty-five years after 9/11, we have another chance to get fear right.

Be smart enough to know what to be afraid of.

And make sure we stay in control of the tech.

We’ve got to be smarter than the machines.

About the Author

Emil Amok Guillermo is an award-winning journalist, commentator and comic monologist. He hosts a micro-talk show on YouTube. See him at Comedy Day at Robin Williams Meadow in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park, on Sept. 20, around 2:45 p.m. Free.

By Carla Thomas

Oakland Mayor Barbara Lee is mourning the death of her longtime friend Gloria Steinem, remembering the feminist icon as a devoted ally who understood that the struggles for racial justice and gender equality were inseparable.

Steinem died Sept. 2 in New York City at the age of 92. A pioneering journalist, author and political activist, she spent more than six decades advocating for women’s equality and reproductive choices. She also co-founded Ms. magazine and the National Women’s Political Caucus. 

“I called her recently and could hear the weakness in her voice,” Lee said. “She was also very fragile at my New York event, but she remained supportive.”

The friendship between Lee and Steinem grew from their connections to the late U.S. Rep. Shirley Chisholm, the first Black woman elected to Congress and the first Black candidate to seek a major political party’s presidential nomination.

Chisholm was Lee’s mentor and inspired her to enter politics. Lee worked on Chisholm’s historic 1972 presidential campaign and served as one of her delegates at the Democratic National Convention.

According to Lee, Chisholm helped Steinem deepen her understanding of racial inclusion and recognize that the women’s movement could not succeed without addressing the experiences of Black women and other women of color.

“Gloria really understood what racial equity was about as a white woman and knew the value of building coalitions,” Lee said.

Steinem became one of the country’s most recognizable advocates for women’s rights, reproductive alternatives and political representation. Lee said one of the most persistent inequities confronting Black women was inadequate access to reproductive healthcare, an issue Lee addressed throughout her years in the California Legislature and Congress.

Lee considered Steinem a genuine ally who recognized the intersections of race, gender, healthcare and economic opportunity. Steinem also understood the importance of elevating women into leadership positions and encouraging them to claim their rightful places at decision-making tables.

Their relationship extended beyond politics and public advocacy. Lee recalled joining Steinem and her husband for dinner in Manhattan Beach with Lee’s son, Tony.

“It was beautiful to see how she could be a wonderful wife, feminine and be a strong woman,” Lee said.

Tony Lee also had a professional connection to Steinem through the rerelease of “The Road to Galveston,” the 1996 television film he wrote about the life of his grandmother, Mildred Parish Massey. The film starred Cicely Tyson.

“My son’s tribute to Gloria on Facebook is very touching,” Lee said.

Lee expressed profound heartbreak over losing her friend and gratitude for Steinem’s support throughout her political career, including during reelection campaigns. 

As Lee continues carrying forward the lessons of Chisholm and Steinem, she has also helped encourage a new generation of women leaders, including U.S. Reps. Lateefah Simon and Jasmine Crockett.

By Dr. Y’Anad Burrell

“Fashion vs. Fascism” (FVF) is a visually immersive evening of fashion, music and political theater exposing the rise of fascism in the U.S. and the need to resist. Democracy is under siege, and culture is one of our most potent defenses, organizers say.

Called a live “runway revolution,” FvF premieres Oct. 3 at The Rotunda, 300 Frank Ogawa Plaza in downtown Oakland.

A play that is part fashion show, part protest, part performance art, FvF stages five runway collections spotlighting the pillars of contemporary fascist politics and the urgent need to resist: the myth of a “glorious past,” the manufactured emergencies used to justify surveillance and crackdowns, and the oligarchs and grifters profiting from it all. Runway fashion shares the stage with political theater and live music, with a closing call to action.

“We need lawsuits, ballots and mass protests, but none of it lands if we’re not also fighting for people’s imagination,” says Linda Burnham, co-producer of the show. “People are exhausted and scared. FvF will expose the absurdities of fascist mythology and ideology in ways a news headline cannot and spark new ideas about how to resist.”

“Fascism doesn’t win by policy alone. It wins by telling a story. A myth about a ‘Golden Age.’ A permanent emergency that makes cruelty seem necessary. That’s not an accident, it’s a strategy, and it works on the same terrain as culture: image, spectacle, emotion,” says Aya De León, the show’s playwright.

“Every piece on this runway translates what is happening under fascism into a feeling,” explains Erica Furlong, the FVF creative director. “One designer’s trench coat is covered in pockets stamped ‘TRUTH,’ ‘MEMORY,’ ‘HOPE,’ ‘VOTE,’ ‘FUTURE,’ because that’s literally what gets seized first, pocket by pocket, under fascist decline. Fashion can hold grief and hope in the same silhouette, and that tension is exactly what this moment needs.”

At its best, fashion is about creativity, diversity, innovation, experimentation and the free exchange of ideas. Fascism, by contrast, demands conformity and control, while suppressing dissent.

FVF was created, organizers say, because democracy should always be in style.

Featured designers include Erica Varize, Rickie Lee, Tianna Charity, Julie Wong, and Maria Flores. The evening features a script by lead playwright Aya De León, musical performances by Mindeullae Project and DJ Emancipation, and other special guests.

FvF is designed to travel. Following the Oakland premiere, FvF will extend its reach through a documentary short, a curriculum on contemporary fascism in the U.S., and a full replication playbook — design templates, script, and curriculum — so organizers in other cities can stage their own version of the show.

Get more details at www.fashionvfascism.org.

“Fashion vs. Fascism” (FVF) is a visually immersive evening of fashion, music and political theater exposing the rise of fascism in the U.S. and the need to resist. Democracy is under siege, and culture is one of our most potent defenses, organizers say.

Called a live “runway revolution,” FvF premieres Oct. 3 at The Rotunda, 300 Frank Ogawa Plaza in downtown Oakland.

A play that is part fashion show, part protest, part performance art, FvF stages five runway collections spotlighting the pillars of contemporary fascist politics and the urgent need to resist: the myth of a “glorious past,” the manufactured emergencies used to justify surveillance and crackdowns, and the oligarchs and grifters profiting from it all. Runway fashion shares the stage with political theater and live music, with a closing call to action.

“We need lawsuits, ballots and mass protests, but none of it lands if we’re not also fighting for people’s imagination,” says Linda Burnham, co-producer of the show. “People are exhausted and scared. FvF will expose the absurdities of fascist mythology and ideology in ways a news headline cannot and spark new ideas about how to resist.”

“Fascism doesn’t win by policy alone. It wins by telling a story. A myth about a ‘Golden Age.’ A permanent emergency that makes cruelty seem necessary. That’s not an accident, it’s a strategy, and it works on the same terrain as culture: image, spectacle, emotion,” says Aya De León, the show’s playwright.

“Every piece on this runway translates what is happening under fascism into a feeling,” explains Erica Furlong, the FVF creative director. “One designer’s trench coat is covered in pockets stamped ‘TRUTH,’ ‘MEMORY,’ ‘HOPE,’ ‘VOTE,’ ‘FUTURE,’ because that’s literally what gets seized first, pocket by pocket, under fascist decline. Fashion can hold grief and hope in the same silhouette, and that tension is exactly what this moment needs.”

At its best, fashion is about creativity, diversity, innovation, experimentation and the free exchange of ideas. Fascism, by contrast, demands conformity and control, while suppressing dissent.

FVF was created, organizers say, because democracy should always be in style.

Featured designers include Erica Varize, Rickie Lee, Tianna Charity, Julie Wong, and Maria Flores. The evening features a script by lead playwright Aya De León, musical performances by Mindeullae Project and DJ Emancipation, and other special guests.

FvF is designed to travel. Following the Oakland premiere, FvF will extend its reach through a documentary short, a curriculum on contemporary fascism in the U.S., and a full replication playbook — design templates, script, and curriculum — so organizers in other cities can stage their own version of the show.

Get more details at www.fashionvfascism.org.