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Boston

I'm sitting now in a dorm room at Stanford University. It's the echo of a memorable experience I had in Boston. For the past month, I had the privilege of staying at Emerson College in that city to teach two two-week summer school sessions to high school students from around the country and world.

Along with the program director, I taught college preparation. From everything I learned about subject-- which was a lot, given that I applied only to one school-- I got the impression that getting into college today is more difficult than it was even ten years ago, when I was applying. In any case, I enjoyed the learning experience and, especially, being in Boston for one month.

While there, we had the opportunity to visit several universities-- prestigious ones, like Harvard and M.I.T.-- tour the city, visit museums, shop at famous places like Quincy Market, go to a Red Sox game, and just wander. The city is active, with green space for play, concerts, plays, and more. Most people get around on the "T," the city's light rail system, and even in the stations here, you could hear musicians playing anything from soft rock on an acoustic guitar to traditional Japanese music on a biwa.

City residents are as incredibly proud of Boston, especially since the Marathon bombing. Look around and you'll find the city's slogan printed across countless t-shirts. "Boston Strong" serves as a reminder not just of the residents' pride, but as a warning against anyone who might terrorize them again. For a man who rarely hears anything good spoken about his home town, it was a contrast in behavior. Boston residents seem unified.

The month was not without its surprises, either. On the "T" one day, for example, a man came near me to sit on the car ground against the car's back wall. I thought it strange that he sat on the ground, but I was talking to a fellow staff member, so I only gave it passing thought. Later, though, I looked again to find him laying down with a can of compressed air used to clean computer keyboards. He was taking in the air, getting high. I tried to get him to stop, but he responded by cussing at me. I couldn't do much more than to walk to the front of the train at the next stop to tell the conductor about it, only to find the conductor was already on his way to fetch a station police officer. The officer came on board, took the can, and escorted the man off the train.

This was one example of the sadness present in this city. Even more than in Stockton, homelessness and mental sickness is incredibly evident. Granted, I spent most of my time around a very public location, a large city park; but even in a comparable place in Stockton-- namely, the downtown movie theater or Saint Mary's Dining Hall-- the number of homeless was noticeably greater. In the early morning hours, the homeless slept on benches and under trees on the Common while fearless pigeons pecked at bits of food.

Still, there is so much more to Boston than its problems. The people here are active, running or walking this way and that; and the city is steeped in Revolutionary history. Near the Common is the Granary Burial Ground, for example, where Paul Revere, Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and more Revolutionary heroes are buried. This is just one stop on the famed Freedom Trail, a city trail that leads you to visit Boston's historical landmarks. One morning, I had the chance to visit the Bunker Hill Monument-- in the meantime, getting lost in Charlestown's neighborhoods-- and the U.S.S. Constitution, the oldest remaining commissioned naval vessel.

The diversity was also memorable. Students came from Germany, Nigeria, Russia, Bolivia, Spain, France, Ghana, and South Africa, while a few came from U.S. states.

The food was good, too. While we ate mostly at the school's dining hall, we also visited a number of restaurants. The most memorable of these was a place called Fire and Ice. The owners of this Americanized hibachi-style restaurant organized it so that patrons gather whatever ingredients they want and take it to a large circular grill. Here, people otherwise unknown to each other have the chance to socialize-- something you don't often see in a restaurant-- while several chefs grill your food in front of you. In the background, nineties music plays, and you can go back for more food as many times as you like. Outside "experience" restaurants like this, food was available everywhere in the city. Lining the Common and its outskirts, for example, were dozens of varied local restaurants-- from park vendors to Cheeseboy to Four Burgers-- but the most visible presence was the ubiquitous Dunkin' Donuts. The owners of this restaurant seem to be asserting their economic might with the number of restaurants throughout the city. They compete heavily with Starbucks, and it was common to see a Dunkin' Donuts on one side of the street facing a Starbucks on the other.

All in all, I see this as a memorable time in a city I had wanted to visit for several years. I'm glad I went.

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