Laura Moser

We can all get behind feeding the poorest kids in school, right?

Diversity isn't just a hallmark of big cities anymore.

With our growing attachment to the online universe comes a refined ability to keep tabs on several things at once, to watch stories unfold on parallel planes.

The celebrity's desire to shape the next generation of young minds by opening a school is by no means unique to Diddy.

I've basically worked as a journalist and a writer.

Campaign widowhood totally suited me, and I soon began to suspect that our setup beat the bill-paying and bickering of an actual marriage.

My husband and I were married in May 2007 on a sprawling rent-a-ranch in the Texas Hill Country. On the drive from Houston, we'd stopped off for our marriage license in the former produce aisle of a Winn Dixie-turned-courthouse in San Marcos and from there drove off the grid.

I don't claim any great experience or expertise.

In middle school, I had a teacher who regularly reminded students of the Monday night Young Life meetings he sponsored; on Tuesdays, he'd spend the first few minutes of class palling around with the chosen ones about all the fun and fellowship they'd experienced together.

Very few of us can stop our lives and become activists.

There's a nastiness to conversations about U.S. education reform, which are characterized by the kind of stark taking-of-sides that's usually reserved for debates over guns or abortion rights.

I had to work up the courage to even imagine myself running for Congress. But I eventually decided that our country had a moral problem in only letting white men - even the right-minded ones - have a seat at the table.