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By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

Once upon a time, a girl named Fiona read the book “The Emperor’s New Clothes.”

She thought it was funny and charming that a child could see what no one else admitted. But then, something strange happened: she thought she could also see things that no one else could.

“That’s sweet, Fiona, but focus on your school work and let your imagination run wild at other times,” her father told her that night.

Fiona did as she was told because she wanted to please her parents and her teachers. It was her teachers that caused problems for her.

It started with Mrs. Butler in her third grade class. A tall, thin woman with white hair and glasses, Mrs. Butler always wore high-heeled shoes. She looked directly in the eyes of every student. One day, her friend Simona fell and hit her head. When Mrs. Butler bent down and checked on her friend, Fiona saw the kind of coat doctors and nurses wear appear around her shoulders. Fiona rubbed her eyes, but the coat was still there. Mrs. Butler calmly told the class to go to their seats, sent Bill to get the nurse and kneeled on the floor near Simona.

When the nurse left with Simona, Mrs. Butler’s white coat disappeared.

The next day, Jeff couldn’t understand a math problem. He wrote numbers all over the paper, but he didn’t have the answer.

Fiona noticed a change again in Mrs. Butler’s clothing. Instead of her powder blue blouse, she had an orange vest and white gloves. With numbers on the smartboard, she directed Jeff away from all the dead ends.

When he got closer to the answer, Jeff smiled. Fiona looked back at Mrs. Butler, whose orange vest and white gloves disappeared.

Later, Doug and Andrew got into an argument near the stack of books at the back of the room. When Doug swung his arm to make a point, he knocked over several books.

Fiona saw Mrs. Butler’s clothing change again, this time into the kind of black and white stripes that referees wear in football games. She could even see a whistle dangling from her teacher’s neck.

The next morning, Jill and Amanda couldn’t agree on how to do a class project. Jill marched to the front of the classroom to complain. Amanda followed closely.

While Fiona couldn’t hear everything, she saw a black robe form around Mrs. Butler.

When the conversation ended, Mrs. Butler said something that made both girls happy. They shook hands and walked back to their desks, where they returned to work on their project.

One day, Fiona arrived early to class. She and her teacher were alone and she felt like she had to say something.

“Mrs. Butler?” Fiona asked.

“Yes?” Her teacher replied.

“I see all the clothing you wear,” Fiona said. “I don’t think anyone else sees it.”

Mrs. Butler narrowed her eyes and looked carefully at her student.

“What do you see?” Mrs. Butler asked.

She described the medical jacket, the orange vest, the referee’s coat and the judge’s robe.

“What do you think of all that?” Mrs. Butler asked.

“Is it real?” Fiona asked.

“Thank you for seeing,” Mrs. Butler grinned. Other students walked into the room and class started.

Just then, Fiona heard an alarm. Mrs. Butler reacted immediately. She held up a shield and directed everyone to the back of the room.

While they waited, Mrs. Butler told everyone to remain quiet. The class waited for the all clear.

“It was a drill,” Mrs. Butler said. “You can return to your desks.”

Fiona was the last to leave the classroom that day.

“Fiona?” Mrs. Butler asked. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” she said. “Thanks for … everything.”

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'Undelivered'

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief

“What if,” is always an intriguing question. This is true for our personal lives, as well as for history. And one way to consider many historic “what ifs” is through a newly published book by Jeffrey Nussbaum, one of President Biden’s speechwriters, called, “Undelivered.” This is a compilation of speeches, never given, by historical figures, whose words Nussbaum tracked down over 20 years.

These speeches include, among others, the draft of apology that was prepared for General Dwight Eisenhower, had D-Day ended in failure, and Hillary Clinton’s victory speech. 

Civil rights leader John Lewis’ original speech for the March on Washington, August 28, 1963, in which Martin Luther King Jr. spoke his iconic “I’ve got a dream” words, is also revealing of the tension among the civil rights leadership. PBS, the television news hour, interviewed Nussbaum this past Monday, and he said that Lewis had originally intended to declare, “We will march through the South, through the heart of Dixie, the way Sherman did. We shall pursue our own scorched-earth policy and burn Jim Crow to the ground — non-violently” but was dissuaded from those words. The sponsors of the March, who feared looking too extreme and harming the chances of passing the civil rights bill, begged him to withdraw that particular rhetoric Lewis, with his back to the wall, most reluctantly changed his words that night, writing and rewriting his draft at the base of the Lincoln Memorial until it was acceptable, but the earlier text is in the book.

One of the most fascinating speeches never given was the one awaiting the arrival of President John F. Kennedy on the lectern in Dallas on November 22, 1963.  In that text was Kennedy’s warning of the existence of “a rise in the far-right wing camp of voices preaching doctrines wholly unrelated to reality.” He would have said that “we are the watchmen on the wall of world freedom looking outside and INSIDE. [Capital letters are mine.]”

The subtitle of Nussbaum’s book reads, “The never-heard speeches that would have rewritten history,” suggests that had Kennedy’s words been heard, history might indeed have been altered. As it is, people who read it after the assassination just regarded that speech as generally one of foreign policy.

These speeches demonstrate how outcomes rest on the razor’s edge of history.  Fascinating are “those warnings made in their moment of time,” according to Nussbaum, “that resonate even more clearly today.”

Another historic instance mentioned by Nussbaum was of the three speeches written for Al Gore in the 2000 election. Gore was to give none of them that night. One was a victory speech, the second was a concession, and the third was in the event Gore won the Electoral College but lost the popular vote — prescient of the 2016 election. Nussbaum was one of those speechwriters, and that experience inspired him to write the book about other undelivered speeches. 

Not all the speeches included in the book are about politicians and policy. There is the one by Barry Jenkins, the director behind the 2017 award-winning movie, “Moonlight.” Some of you may remember the flub that night, in which the wrong picture was initially announced as the winner and the wrong cast mounted the stage at the Academy Awards before the correction was made. In the chaos, Jenkins never got to say what winning that award meant for him.  But here, in Nussbaum’s book, he does get to tell what he would have said.

“They were filming in Liberty City, Miami,” explained Nussbaum, “and as in many poorer neighborhoods, there wasn’t sufficient lighting. They had to bring in lights, which attracted children to the set. At one point during the filming, [Jenkins] looks over to Video Village, where all the monitors and editing equipment were, and he sees a young man wearing his [Jenkins’] headset who’s just planted himself in [Jenkins’] chair.” 

“And in that moment, I saw in this child the possibility which I hadn’t believed I could ever see for myself,” Jenkins, who is Black, would have read. How poignant. And missed. 

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During his State of the County address, Suffolk County Executive Steve Bellone (D) presented an ambitious vision for a state-of-the-art north terminal at Long Island MacArthur Airport that would connect to both a newly erected convention center and to the main line of the Long Island Rail Road. 

“Every great region must have a great regional airport and no one can deny that Long Island is one of the great regions in the nation,” Bellone said.  

While Bellone is correct that Long Island is a great region and that it could benefit from a modernized airport terminal at MacArthur, the staff of TBR News Media would like to remind the county executive that there is still so much work to be done before this dream can ever materialize. 

In its present form, Long Island’s prehistoric mass transit network is vastly unprepared to support Bellone’s grand vision. Look no further than the Long Island Expressway to discover the backward state of transportation affairs on the Island. 

If one is lucky enough to be on the road at an hour when the expressway is not crammed with cars and trucks, there still remains the herculean task of dodging potholes. Out-of-state residents are horrified by the medieval conditions of this roadway — and the carnage inflicted upon their tires and front axles. 

The LIRR offers little alternative. While railways around the nation and globe have modernized and expedited their services, Suffolk County residents ride home at a sluggish pace aboard rickety train cars. Riding the LIRR today is uncomfortable, exhausting and, frankly, not worth the price of the ticket. 

Our airways do require a modern renovation, but so do our railways and roadways. Policymakers and regional planners need to consider these projects in tandem. Airports and train stations are not standalone facilities but part of a broader, integrated transportation ecosystem. It is that ecosystem that needs an overhaul.

It makes little sense for Suffolk County residents to dodge potholes en route to their state-of-the-art regional airport. It is equally nonsensical to bring 20th-century train cars into a modernized transportation hub. 

In Suffolk County, leaders offer us bold visions for change without a roadmap to get us there. Our various public transit systems are remnants of a bygone way of life, artifacts of a time when the county had far fewer residents. 

The challenges of immobility are real, likely a result of failed planning some decades ago. Our residents require relief right now as their freedom of movement and quality of life are both dangerously impeded. 

TBR News Media sees the benefits of a modernized terminal at MacArthur, and believes Bellone’s idea is a good one. But there is a whole lot of work to be done before we can get there.

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By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

Empty nest? Seriously? I almost want to laugh maniacally when people ask about our empty nest.

For starters, we have a dog and two cats, which means that our nest, such as it is, has plenty of creatures with ongoing needs. One of our neighbors even asks regularly about our “little one.” It still takes me a second to realize she’s not inquiring about our children, who are anything but little, but our dog, who is also over 80 pounds.

The pandemic and the weather have disrupted so much over the last few years that we half expect to see one or both of our children at the airport or on our doorstep at any given moment.

Sure, we’ve had a few weeks where we’ve been on our own (with our pets), but in between, we’ve entertained visitors thrilled to travel again. We, ourselves, have also traveled back and forth to visit family, which means that the whole us-time has morphed into a collection of pet feedings and short trips.

Like so many other parents of college kids, we welcomed our children back to our home recently. It’s a wonderful chance to see them face to face, when they pick their heads up from their phones, and to connect the dots on snippets of their lives that they’ve shared from a distance.

The dog, who loves both of our children something fierce and whose tail threatens to detach from his hindquarters and float to the ceiling each time they return, is completely exhausted. After a few late nights with the kids and their friends, the dog reaches the sidewalk in front of the house, stands stock still, and stares at me, as if to say, “you want me to walk now? Do you have any idea how late I stayed up?”

Once I coax him, in between clenched teeth, away from the house, he still stops at random places, eager to turn around and lay down.

The dog loves it when I chat with a neighbor, which gives him a chance to plop down on the grass and pant, as if I’ve taken him much further than the 1/8th of a mile from our home.

During a recent such pause, a neighbor shared the joy/frustration of having his two children in his house. His wife wants to institute strict rules about comings, goings, and living-under-their-roof. His son, a junior at a nearby college, is delighted for the home-cooked meals, but not so much for the home-cooked rules.

Both of our children have become nocturnal. They have no need to hear birds chirping in the morning, to plow through a plate of pancakes, or to share in the start of another day.

In the “late” evening (which is getting earlier for me each day), our children often appear as we’re going to sleep. Excited to see them, we sit up and engage in what can be competing conversations. It’s like that old joke about a lawyer who moves into town and has almost no business, until another lawyer comes and they’re both working nonstop.

Something about hearing a sibling talk greases the wheels for the other one, who then remembers important details to share.

The next morning, when we’re at our desks, our children are happily sleeping, resting and recovering and our dog is flat out on the floor.

Then again, the fatigue is more than offset by the joy of hearing about their adventures, marveling at their maturation, and steadying ourselves for the moments when they head back to their busy lives.

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By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief

Two young boys, 10 and 8, were in a local playground last weekend, bouncing on a pogo stick, when four teenagers approached them. “Hey, could we have a turn?” one teen asked. “Sure,” said the older of the two boys, pushing the new toy forward toward them. Some conversation followed, indicating that the boys were Jewish. The teens then began ominously bad mouthing their religion, and one teen took coins out of his pocket and threw them at the boys. They were startled, then scared, and they began to run away. What had started as a fun afternoon will become a lifelong painful memory for the two youngsters.

How sad.

We know children can be cruel. Anyone who has ever read “Lord of the Flies” will certainly agree. But this is more than bullying. This is bullying with hate. And on what basis is that prejudice founded? The afternoon was beautiful, the young boys were generous in their response, and the setting should have been one of neighborly interaction among young people. Instead, it served as an excuse for bias. Where did those teens get their ideas? The deplorable answer is often “from their parents.”

How do we understand prejudice? What prompts it? What inflames it? Why should someone whose skin is one color think they are somehow better than someone of another color? Yet, children are “carefully taught,” to quote the line from “South Pacific.” Do we fear differences? Do we need to feel superior to others in order to be happy with ourselves? Why aren’t we simply judged by what sort of persons we are rather than how we look or what we believe?

Speaking of beliefs, political partisanship is threatening to rip apart our country. Never in my lifetime have people so defined themselves as being of one party or the other as now. We can’t even talk about our differences now. And never has that definition resulted in broken friendships and even broken families as now.

What’s happened to bipartisanship, to working together for greater good, for sharing our flag? Aren’t we all Americans? Don’t we all appreciate what is unique in our country, even as we try to improve its failures? When did the word, “compromise,” become an epithet? While there will always be disagreements about policies and actions, together we have moved forward and accomplished great goals since 1776. Now we can’t even get our facts straight.

The only issue that seems to pull us together is fear of being attacked by some outside force. Congress acts in unison when voting substantial sums of money for Ukraine. Suddenly, on the world stage, we are united and bringing other countries that believe in the rule of law together to oppose the Russian leader. If we can do that for the rest of the globe, why can’t we do that for ourselves? Maybe it’s because we can all agree on the same set of facts, that we are opposed to a fascist leader and his unprovoked assault, and we are afraid of who he may be coming after next?

So this is what we need to get us to work together: a common enemy. Heaven forbid that such a threat should ever materialize at our shores or in our heartland. For by then, it may be too late to undue the grievous harm being done to our nation from within. We are enduring daily shootings and killings of innocent children. Our evening newscasts reveal a society in chaos instead of under an orderly rule of law.

How much of the violence in our current lives is the result of the shouting and insults being hurled back and forth among our leaders? Rhetoric plays an important role in people’s behavior, and the rhetoric we are constantly surrounded by is hate-filled. Our citizens, especially our young, have huge mental challenges. While the coronavirus is partly to blame for the collapse of order and predictability, it is not the only culprit. 

What else is? The immoral, unconscionable grasp for power that fills our airwaves with hate.

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Across the TBR News Media coverage area, on the minds of many board of education candidates running for trustee this election cycle has been the need for greater access to mental health services for students.

In general, the topic of mental health continues to come up more and more as the number of people suffering from this affliction increases. Americans are feeling the impact of COVID-19 shutdowns and of the isolation and loss of control that have followed. The news of more shootings nationwide has brought the issue and its repercussions to the forefront.

The mission of providing mental health assistance or increasing that aid to children and adolescents makes sense and the reasons to do so are countless. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, one in six U.S. children aged 2–8 years has been diagnosed with a mental, behavioral or developmental disorder. During the period of 2018-19, among adolescents aged 12-17 responding to a study, approximately 15% had a major depressive episode and nearly 37% had persistent feelings of sadness and hopelessness. 

Adolescents today are also having more violent thoughts than they had in the past. It’s now increasingly vital to sit down with young people and get to the root causes of violent ideation. What is triggering such thoughts and how can we address them adequately?

Before the pandemic, mental health problems were already rising, exacerbated by people, especially young ones, sitting in front of computer screens and smartphones, comparing their lives to others. For many, COVID-19 shutdowns only compounded their miseries with more quiet time to sit with their feelings yet without opportunities to express their thoughts in a safe place.

While many therapists offer virtual appointments through Zoom and other platforms, sometimes a patient, especially an adolescent, can feel even more isolated in such a forum as it can be difficult for some to connect with another through a screen.

This general disconnect from society can be detrimental to anyone, especially a child who is just starting to figure out what life is all about and the part he or she plays in it.

Our nation is in the midst of Mental Health Awareness Month, which has been observed in the U.S. since 1949. Now more than ever, it’s important to educate ourselves on the signs of mental health problems and how we can all help. Sometimes it’s as simple as letting those whom we love and who look to us for guidance know they are not alone. People who are struggling need to know they have someone to talk to so that they don’t feel alone and desperate.

At other times, we need to identify the proper balance between keeping one’s secrets and asking for help, even if it means reaching out to a parent, teacher or professional.

Discussions on how to provide our children the best mental health services need to continue past budget votes and BOE elections. Reach out to your board of ed, attend school board meetings and ensure that providing students the help they need is not a talking point but a priority.

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Checklist. Pixabay photo

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

Some people live from one list to another, checking off boxes only to create new tasks and new goals.

Some of the things on the list are manageable, like picking up medicine from the drug store, shopping for the ingredients to cook dinner, or bringing a friend to or from the airport.

Others are much broader and appear on the list almost daily, even if we take small steps to get closer to them, like getting a job, losing weight, or moving to a new apartment or a new city.

Those bigger goals, while important, can make these lists cumbersome and, seemingly, never-ending. Perhaps we need a few easily achievable tasks that reflect the reality of our lives. To that end, how about a few items from the practical, the mundane and the absurd:

— Walk into a room, forget what you needed, stand in the room for a moment, shrug and walk out. While that doesn’t happen every day, it has certainly happened to me. I’ve also seen it happen to others. Somehow, putting it on a list makes it seem like an accomplishment, rather than a reflection of the distracted state in which we live.

— Pet an animal while working from home instead of finishing an assignment. While deadlines help us accomplish our goals, petting our dogs and cats, or staring at our fish, lowers our blood pressure and soothes us. Take a moment to enjoy the fur of a pet who will likely appreciate the attention.

— Turn off the light in a room when no one is there. Yes, this is small, but it lowers the electricity bill. Checking off this box should be easy and it increases our checked off list. The devilish among us might “accidentally” turn the light off when someone is in the room.

— Take a power nap. Instead of feeling guilty about walking away from your desk or your dog, feel good about the few minutes you get closing your eyes to restore your peace of mind.

— Use a new word, like feckless as often as possible. Feckless sounds kind of angry and frustrated, which can reflect the frustrations of a feckless manager.

— Throw something. Try not to break anything or cause any damage, but the sheer pleasure of throwing something like a football, baseball or even a balled-up piece of paper at a garbage can offer a satisfying outlet and a way to offset the figurative paper cuts we endure each day.

— Stop at a yellow light. I know we’re all in a hurry, but if we put this one on the list, we can feel good about stopping when the light is about to turn red.

— Smile at someone. This one is so easy, and yet it’s worth putting on a list because we might make someone feel better during the day or offer support in an important moment.

— Be grateful. Anger is everywhere around us, particularly on TV, where talking heads share the latest outrage from here, from there, from everywhere. Be grateful for the person who stocks the shelves at the grocery store, the person who takes your insurance information at the doctor’s office, or for the emergency workers who stand by ready to help the rest of us.

— Watch nature do something cool. Enjoy the sight of a wave on the beach, the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves, the parade of ants climbing a tree, or the shades of yellow and orange light that the sun casts on trees and the sides of buildings as it sets at the end of the day and as you’re checking off your list of manageable achievements.

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Frank Melville Memorial Park. Photo by Heidi Sutton

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief

“Did you hear? Ted has come down with COVID and is in the ICU.” 

The words hit me in the gut.

This gentleman, with whom I serve on the board of directors of a local community group, has now been admitted to the local hospital. I sat next to him at the monthly meeting a couple of weeks ago. We exchanged pleasantries and made small talk. Neither of us wore masks. (Ted is probably in his 70s. I have not used his real name.)

Just when we think our virus-riven world may be returning to some semblance of normal, the pathogen acts up again. We seem to be going two steps forward and one step back as weeks and months go by. Yes, we have the vaccines, the boosters, the antiviral mediations and plenty of test kits now. But the contagion is not over, not even close, no matter how much we would like it to be and pretend it is. Neither is the fear that rises and falls. Those of us who have been spared thus far really don’t want to catch the disease, and those who have fallen ill don’t want to be the virus’s victim yet again.

It’s spring. Finally, spring, with the flowers and leaves, the emerald green and the birdsong. The comfortable temperatures allow us to sit out on our patios and back decks. Once again we can feel the joy spring brings. But it is also the third spring we are living under the black cloud of a pandemic.

Yes, we have learned a lot as a result. We have become more aware of the tiny miracles, the blossoming of each flower on the azalea bushes along the roadside as we walk, the warbling of the mockingbird stationed on the top of the tree beside our garage. The pace of life has slowed as a result of COVID, allowing us to become more appreciative, more mindful of our existence from moment to moment. Many of us have embraced remote work habits and thrive with more at-home time. These are silver linings.

But I can’t help mourning the loss of our before-virus lives. We haven’t been to a Broadway play in three spring seasons now. We have dropped our opera subscription. Contemplating a performance of Carmen at Lincoln Center, preceded by a scrumptious dinner in a Manhattan restaurant, makes me feel a bit dizzy with desire. 

I am still not relaxed enough, even with a mask, to indulge in my former existence. If we have been fortunate enough not to have lost a loved one to the disease, nonetheless, the virus has stolen from our lives, stolen not only events and spectacles but more painfully, time with family members and friends at those events. Time missed with those we are closest to, as we live our lives, cannot be made up. Our dear ones don’t live forever. Sometimes loved ones die, from the infection or other causes, and the hours we would have spent with them are lost to us forever.

Recently, researchers have interviewed thousands to answer the question, “How many close friends can one have?” The answer, the mean average and not counting family, is 3-6. Those friends are irreplaceable. When one dies, there isn’t another to step forward and take his or her place because such friendships take years to develop. I know. When I read that study, I immediately fell to counting my closest friends and came up with four. It would have been six but two have died, though not from COVID. I want to spend as much time with those who remain as possible, and I deeply resent the virus for getting in the way.

Friendship, we know, is important for good health. The opposite, isolation and loneliness, often the by-products of COVID, can be as harmful to us physically as smoking 15 cigarettes a day, according to Psychology Professor Julianne Holt-Lunstad, at Brigham Young University.

We must make every effort to stay connected to our family and friends.  

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School board elections are a rare chance to make a positive change in the lives of schoolchildren throughout our community.

Too young to vote, these children depend on us to make responsible decisions on their behalf. It is our duty to help them find direction and we must take this responsibility seriously. 

For centuries, school boards on this continent have served a vital role, promoting health, prosperity and civility throughout communities across America. Our school boards prepare our youth for the challenges of life, serving as a vehicle for their coming of age.

On Tuesday, voters will decide who will serve on these school boards and, while they are often overlooked, these elections have enormous consequences. Unlike other elected officials who spend much of their time away in some remote capitol, school board members are here on the ground with their students and constituents. 

Among many other obligations, school boards hire district superintendents, approve budgets, design curricula and organize districtwide calendars. These individuals will chart the course of our students’ lives from kindergarten through high school. Behind the scenes, their decisions will shape how these children learn and grow, and how they develop into responsible citizens prepared to contribute to our community.

Americans generally believe that our greatest days still lie ahead of us. Even in this moment of partisanship and polarization, we can all agree that our future requires an educated youth. These young souls will soon be leaders among us, which is why our decisions matter today.

We must take greater interest in the education of our youth. We must study our ballots, familiarizing ourselves not only with the names of the candidates but also the person, platform and character behind the name. Does this candidate have integrity? Can this candidate be entrusted with the moral and intellectual development of our children? These are the critical questions we must ask ourselves before entering the voting booth.

To the readers of TBR News Media, take a moment to research the candidates for your district’s board of education. Be prepared before you pull the lever, including studying the proposed 2022-23 school budget.

While we so often hear people tell us their votes don’t count, we are here to tell you that this one does. The enlightenment of our children, the health of our community and the future of our nation are in your hands. Make your voice heard and get out to vote this coming Tuesday. 

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By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

Once upon a time, the eight parts of speech came together to compete for supremacy.

Convinced of his invincibility, the arrogant noun stood on top of the mountain, rolling his eyes at the other parts of speech, assured of his victory.

“I am, without a doubt, the most important of the eight of us,” he declared. “I hope you’re not too disappointed when you all eat my dust.”

“You think you’re the best and the brightest,” laughed the adjective. “Without me, you’d be a bunch of people, places and things, without much flavor. Why, you’d be like vanilla ice cream without sprinkles, melting in the hot sun.”

“Well, sure, adjectives are helpful,” the noun acknowledged. “You’re like Robin to my Batman.”

“So, you’re the only superhero with any real value?” the pronoun asked.

“No, you and I are a team, right? You stand for nouns, with your ‘he, she, it’ and your ‘who, which and what,’ but, come on? Where would you be without me? I’m the king, the throne, the empire, the country and the world all at once.”

“Maybe, but people would get sick of reading the same words over and over if they didn’t have pronouns,” the pronoun argued. “I may have smaller words in my part of speech, but I take the place of all your huge words, without needing to repeat them all.”

“Good grief,” the interjection interjected. “Come on! I’m not only a conversation stopper, I am often followed by an exclamation point. See? Well, that’s a question, but I’m a forceful part of speech, dang it! Listen to me! I will win this ridiculous competition!”

Slowly and deliberately, the adverb hopped off his adverb couch, gracefully gliding over to the group.

“Seriously, the adverbs gleefully chuckling over there,” he said, pointing to a group of words with “ly” tails, “are highly useful and critically important.”

The preposition had heard enough. He climbed off the fence, down a hill, and near the others.

“The proposition of a preposition winning this contest is high,” she said. “We provide context for so many activities — on the roof, by six o’clock, beneath the surface.”

That’s when they heard a sound without end. When they looked for the source of the noise, they noticed an endless group of words strung together.

“Hello, all you other parts of speech,” the conjunction said. “I have endless storage space and can carry each you indefinitely. I can also sew together seemingly different ideas.”

The noun laughed at the conjunction.

“What good would all those connections be if you didn’t have the rest of us?” he snickered.

Whirring through the air, the verb appeared, disappeared, jumped over the group, slid beneath them, and ricocheted around the meadow.

“Hello everyone,” the verb snickered. “This competition makes me laugh.”

“Crikey! Why is that?” the interjection asked.

“Well, you’d be a pile of stuff without action verbs,” he said. “In fact, you wouldn’t even be anything without a verb. To do anything, to be anything, and to animate your actions, you all need verbs. We lift you off the canvas, transport you to other places, inspire greatness, and demand attention. Yes, all the rest of you have magnificent qualities (special thanks to the adjective for giving us ‘magnificent’), but verbs drive ideas forward, infuse life into your existence, and encourage discourse.”

“I’d be limited without verbs,” the adverb agreed glumly.

“No, verbs soar majestically because of you,” the verb offered reassuringly. “We count on you.”

“Hey! We’re all important!” the interjection concluded.

“That could be true,” the noun concluded. “I still think none of us would be here without me.”

“True, but you’re a long list of stuff that isn’t doing much and that lacks personality without the rest of us,” the verb said, wanting to have the last word. “Now, let the games begin.”

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