Chicago Daily Observer

In Addition to Depriving Him of His 1st Amendment Rights this “University” Betrays its Once Catholic Heritage.

Founded in 1898, DePaul University holds itself out as America’s largest Catholic University. Named for St. Vincent de Paul, who established the Congregation of the Mission (known as the Vincentians), the motto of the university is t“Viam sapientiae monstrabo tibi”. It’s from Proverbs meaning, “I will show you the way of wisdom.”.

Sometimes, I wonder if DePaul maintains its “Catholic” identity simply to retain tax exempt status. The classrooms and offices of the university have been almost completely denuded of crucifixes and religious artwork of any kind. After my time at DePaul, all that remains is inoffensive and nondescript representations of the saint making him appear unidentifiable.

Few of my old classmates express any loyalty to DePaul as our alma mater. Most who were graduate students described it as the most “secularized” of ... Read More...

Everyone who wrote an essay in kindergarten, raise your hand.

No one?

Well, Barack Obama has, but I didn’t see his hand go up because maybe he isn’t in the audience. In fact, an essay he wrote in kindergarten in which he declared his desire to become president has briefly appeared as a central issue in the Illinois Democratic senator’s presidential campaign.

The issue here, as couched by Hillary Clinton’s campaign, is just how truthful is Obama’s finely honed image as someone who never really thought of running for president until the masses demanded it?

More fascinating, though, is the idea a kindergartener—Obama or anyone else—wrote an essay when he was five or six. Especially when so many Americans today can’t write a paragraph or even a complete sentence.

An essay, for the love of mike, is defined as a literary composition, often reflecting an author’s personal view. When did ... Read More...

“Everything I ever really needed to know I learned in kindergarten,” a popular writer once claimed.

Not me.

Oh, I certainly learned some hard lessons back then, playing in the sandbox. But for me, slow learner that I am, the most important lessons came much later in life. In high school.

Most of these came from my high school English teacher, Rose Barth. Mrs. Barth (wasn’t it wonderful when married women were called “Mrs.?” So much more respect they had then) was not only a brilliant teacher of literature, she was tough. “Break it up,” she snapped one day to me and my high school sweetheart, Scott, as we stood by our lockers entwined in teenaged embrace. We obeyed. No one dared disobey Mrs. Barth.

Among other virtues, Rose Barth and her colleagues in the English Department made us, even the most sullen and resistant, read great books—scads of them. ... Read More...