Helen Ubiñas

For parents of children with disabilities, these moments can be hard to come by, laser-focused as they must be on their children’s health and well-being, both now and in that angst-inducing future where they won’t always be around.

Police and students meet on the court to play for peace.

Will studies lead to the support and help survivors of gun violence so desperately need?

I’ve watched these students evolve into passionate activists, calling attention to the gun violence in Philadelphia that’s too often reduced to a mere footnote in the national conversation on the epidemic.

“Do you know what it’s like to be shot at?” wrote one survivor.

The city has plans and programs to stem the violence. But what can be done now?

I’m increasingly hearing some of our staunchest anti-gun violence advocates concede to fatigue in one manner or another. When the people we count on to fight are exhausted, we often suggest self-care, but that puts the onus on them. What should the rest of us be doing for them?

We were crushed when we lost our beloved golden retriever. Taking a road trip to Tennessee helped.

“May this peaceful sanctuary create joy out of tragedy, and remind us to care for one another as a community," the sign read.

If ever there were a place that a child — a baby — should be safe, it’s in the arms of her parent inside her home.