Citizenship | Literature
Select novels, short stories, and nonfiction on contemporary life.
What began as a bold experiment in grassroots service produced future ambassadors to help guide U.S. diplomacy through seven decades of global upheaval.
Read, Listen, Watch
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Writing is physical. Writing is athletic. Writing requires the same discipline of a dedicated athlete in pursuit of peak performance. I note this, not to be repetitive, but as a corollary to my series on Little League and the trajectory of sports in life for me. These things are one and the same: the first…
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Now spring has brought us out to baseball again. I’m coaching my sons. The last four years, I’ve coached my sons at baseball. Baseball always meant a lot to me, though I was neither the fastest nor the strongest nor the most reliable at the bat. Still, I know enough about the game, and enough…
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Team sports weren’t for me. I didn’t compete again for a decade. Inspired by my brother, I picked up triathlon. I biked to work through the winter months in New York, swam at Brooklyn College after teaching, ran with the Roadrunners led by an aging postal worker. I competed in my first event in Tampa/St.…
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I was perusing NRATV—yes, the NRA broadcasts 24 hours a day!—to choose my favorite ‘freedom and firearm-related programming’ for the afternoon. Did I want to hear Dan Bongino crack the code and expose ‘the real agenda‘ behind March for Our Lives? Or would I rather get to know why Dana Loesch* thinks, in her simpleton’s binary,…
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There was nothing like pole vault. Our equipment was flawed: old fiberglass poles with no give. Coach knew nothing about it and left us to our own devices. Half a dozen guys tried. Sprint hard as we might, the pole didn’t budge. We climbed it like pillaging savages. Between stints climbing the pole—8 feet, 9…
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I tried out for high school ball the following year. I hit longer, straighter flies than I had at tryouts the year before. The coach—who slept on a basement bed in the very apartment where I delivered my middle school coach’s newspaper—already knew the story. ‘He’ll hit in tryouts. Goose-egg during the season.’ Rated beneath…
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My father ran bread routes for Wonder most mornings. He delayed the deliveries to throw me curves and fastballs when tryouts came around. He zeroed my hands and eyes, quickened my bat to the rawhide in the pre-dawn twilight. Confident still in the afternoon, I showed for tryouts with a quick bat and hit high,…
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The calendar tells us that it’s spring. But last Monday, the night before the season’s first Little League practice, snow squalls filled the sky. Over the weekend the manager gathered us on a beautiful day for pizza and whiffle ball. Then our second practice got scrubbed for snow, a Nor’easter that eventually dumped half a…
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This requires very little comment on my part other than to say: The school system I fund through my taxes has expressed itself exactly as it should, and exactly as I would have done, if it were my call to make. This letter appears verbatim, bolded lines reflecting my emphasis. Well done, FCPS. FCPS does…
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No coffee this morning. This line instead kicked my day into gear at West Virginia’s Bill Scott Raceway: We’re gonna be at the limits of traction this morning… Limits of traction, and limits of digestion. Following the hard-braking exercises through the serpentine, I left the Crown Vic to hurl my breakfast at the woods. No…
Ben East Books 