In the summer of 1988, Wembley Stadium was packed for Nelson Mandela’s 70th birthday tribute concert, a star-studded event celebrating the South African leader’s life and struggle. One of the evening’s biggest draws was Stevie Wonder. But when his hard disk with all his pre-recorded tracks went missing, his set was suddenly impossible to perform. The audience waited. Backstage, organisers scrambled.
In that moment of chaos, someone made a bold call. Tracy Chapman, barely known beyond a handful of radio stations, had already played a short set earlier in the day. With time to fill and nerves running high, she was asked to go back out. Alone on stage, guitar in hand, she played “Fast Car”.
It was quiet at first. Then the crowd leaned in.
The simplicity of it, just her voice and that aching, restless melody, cut through everything. No big production. No lights or effects. Just a song that landed exactly where it needed to.
In the weeks that followed, the ripple effect was massive. Sales of her debut album exploded. A million copies were sold within a month. That one unexpected encore launched her into global recognition.
Stevie Wonder got his gear working eventually. But by then, Tracy Chapman had already arrived.
More and more teachers are leaving the profession, not quietly and not because they’ve stopped caring. It’s the opposite. They’re walking away because they care too much and are being crushed by a system that keeps asking more while offering less.
One of the clearest signs something is broken? The number of high school students who can’t read. Not struggling with tough material or falling a little behind. We’re talking about teenagers who can’t read at even a basic level. Some can’t sound out simple words. Others are unable to understand a short paragraph.
And this isn’t rare. It’s not one school or one district. It’s happening across the country, in classrooms where teachers are being asked to do the impossible. Teach grade-level content to students who are reading years behind, all while managing behaviour, preparing students for standardised tests, and dealing with endless admin.
There’s no magic fix for this. Teachers know that. They’re creating extra materials, staying after hours, trying to bridge gaps that have been widening for years. Some of those gaps were there long before the pandemic. Others deepened during school closures and remote learning. Now, it’s the teachers who are being asked to patch everything up without any real support.
The heartbreak comes from watching kids who’ve already lost faith in school. Kids who act out, not because they don’t want to learn, but because they’ve been left behind for so long they’ve stopped trying. Teachers see it in their faces. The shame, the frustration, the disconnect.
And after a while, it becomes too much. Not because they don’t want to help, but because they no longer believe they can. They’re exhausted. Not just tired, but emotionally spent from carrying a burden that isn’t theirs alone. They’re tired of being blamed for poor results when the problems start long before those students walk into their rooms.
Some stay. They keep showing up, doing everything they can. But many others are saying they’ve had enough. Not because they don’t believe in the job, but because they no longer recognise it.
Cole should have turned 24 this year. His parents should have been celebrating with him, maybe having cake, maybe just laughing about something small. Instead, they’re left marking the day with memories. Two years on, they’re still asking the same question: how did a young man with insurance end up dying from a preventable asthma attack?
Cole had a job. He had health coverage through his employer in Wisconsin. He also had asthma, a condition he managed with daily medication. That management relied on a specific inhaler, one he thought would be covered like it always had been.
But when he went to the pharmacy to get a refill, he was told it would now cost over $500. The preventive inhaler that had once cost around $67 had suddenly become out of reach. The reason? OptumRx, the pharmacy benefit manager, had removed it from their list of covered drugs. His doctor wasn’t notified. He wasn’t given a proper warning. According to his parents, no one offered a proper alternative.
He walked away with just an emergency inhaler, the kind meant for last-minute attacks, not day-to-day control. Days later, that inhaler was found empty next to his bed. He’d died of a severe asthma attack alone in his room.
The pharmaceutical company behind the decision says $5 copays were technically available, and that instructions were sent to Walgreens to contact Cole. Walgreens has expressed condolences but hasn’t shared details, citing privacy. His parents say none of that information ever reached their son.
They didn’t even know he was struggling with access until they got to the ICU and heard it from his roommate. There’d been no warning signs, no clue anything was wrong. Just one missing refill that changed everything.
Cole’s story now sits at the centre of a broader investigation, part of NBC’s “The Cost of Denial” series. It highlights a grim truth: insurance doesn’t always mean protection. When a covered drug is removed, even temporarily, it can leave patients stranded without real-time solutions. For Cole, there was no buffer. No one stepped in. No safety net caught him.
His parents have since had his tattoo inked onto their own wrists. It's a quiet reminder, one that carries a simple message: keep going. Remember, live. But underneath that is something heavier. A frustration that hasn’t faded, and a grief shaped not just by loss but by the knowledge that it didn’t have to happen.
This wasn’t about neglect or recklessness. It was about a young man doing the right thing, playing by the rules, only to be let down by a system that shifted the goalposts without telling him.
And that’s what stays with you. Not just the loss, but the silence around it.
In early 2020, Deborah Dugan, the CEO of the Recording Academy, the organisation behind the Grammy Awards, shocked the music world with serious accusations. She publicly claimed that the Grammy Awards were rigged. Her statement questioned the fairness and transparency of one of the biggest nights in music.
Dugan’s concerns focused on the nomination process. She suggested that some artists and songs were being favoured because of personal connections or business relationships with people on the Academy’s board. This, she said, created a conflict of interest and undermined the integrity of the awards. The suggestion was that decisions were not always based purely on merit or talent but on who you knew.
Her time as CEO was short. She was appointed in August 2019 but by January 2020, just days before that year’s Grammy ceremony, she was put on administrative leave. The Recording Academy said the suspension was due to a formal allegation of misconduct. Dugan responded by filing a complaint with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, accusing the Academy of retaliation and discrimination. She insisted she was trying to bring much-needed change to the organisation, especially in making the awards process more open and inclusive.
The situation sparked a lot of discussion about how the Grammys are run behind the scenes. Many people praised Dugan for speaking out and shining a light on problems that had been whispered about for years. Critics of the Grammy Awards have often argued that the process lacks transparency and that some artists or genres are overlooked unfairly. Dugan’s claims brought those issues into the public eye.
Since then, the Recording Academy has made some changes. They removed secret committees that used to decide nominations and introduced measures to improve diversity and fairness.
Pope Francis has once again demonstrated his commitment to social justice by donating the remaining money from his personal funds to a unique rehabilitation project. The funds, estimated at around €200,000, were given to support a pasta factory run inside the Casal del Marmo juvenile detention centre in Rome. This initiative aims to provide young detainees with valuable skills and a chance for a fresh start.
The pasta factory, known as Pastificio Futuro, was established by a social cooperative to help inmates gain work experience and vocational training. By engaging in pasta making, the young men learn a trade that can assist them in rebuilding their lives once they leave detention. The project is much more than just producing pasta; it is about restoring hope and offering a path towards reintegration into society.
Pope Francis has long been known for his compassion towards prisoners and his belief in redemption. Early in his papacy, he visited the Casal del Marmo centre and washed the feet of 12 young inmates, a gesture symbolising humility and solidarity. This recent donation continues that legacy, reinforcing the message that no one should be forgotten or left without hope.
The Pope’s generous gift is a testament to his dedication to the dignity of every person, regardless of their background. By supporting projects like Pastificio Futuro, he encourages society to look beyond punishment and towards rehabilitation and opportunity. This act of kindness highlights the importance of offering young offenders a chance to change their futures through meaningful work and support.
Some of the most memorable and amusing moments in professional wrestling history happened in World Championship Wrestling (WCW) when Sting would dramatically remove an iconic plastic mask, only to reveal, quite simply, that it was him underneath. This moment stands out because it played with the classic wrestling trope of masked wrestlers and their hidden identities, but did so in a way that surprised and entertained fans alike.
Sting’s painted face was a part of his look during a crucial phase of his career in the late 1990s. The mask gave him a mysterious, almost otherworldly aura, setting him apart from other wrestlers in the promotion. Fans were used to the idea that masks concealed a wrestler’s true identity or added an extra layer to their character. So when Sting chose to dramatically remove the mask in the middle of a heated storyline, expectations were high for a shocking reveal.
However, instead of unveiling a new persona or a hidden wrestler beneath, Sting simply showed that the man behind the mask was, in fact, the same Sting everyone had known all along. This moment became funny and somewhat self-aware, as it gently poked fun at the sometimes over-the-top nature of wrestling gimmicks. The reveal was a reminder that while wrestling thrives on drama and mystery, it also has a playful side that can surprise fans in unexpected ways.
The scene quickly became a beloved moment among wrestling enthusiasts because of its simplicity and charm. It broke the usual pattern of mask reveals by embracing honesty wrapped in theatrical flair. Sting’s mask removal showed that even in a world built on larger-than-life characters, sometimes the best entertainment comes from a clever twist on the familiar. This moment remains a lighthearted highlight in WCW’s rich history.
The inimitable Lucy Lawless is back for more My Life is Murder, as the brilliantly unapologetic private detective, Alexa Crowe, for the fourth series of this much-loved crime drama.
And to celebrate we have a copy of Series 4 on DVD to give away!
Synopsis:
Retired cop turned tenacious private detective, Alexa Crowe (Lawless) is back, with her dry wit and brash style as she investigates a multitude of new crimes in this hugely entertaining series.
Series four introduces eight new mysteries, eight new worlds and eight new diabolical killers that only Alexa Crowe can catch, and her friends and family are coming along for the ride. Tech guru Madison (Ebony Vagulans – The Furies) is stepping up as she contributes her considerable technical skills to Alexa's investigations and the duo fall into a comfortable mentor-mentee relationship – though neither of them will ever agree on who is the teacher and who is the student. Cafe owner Reuben (Joe Naufahu – Game of Thrones) is stepping in and brother Will (Martin Henderson – Grey’s Anatomy) is staying close by. Plus, Detective Harry (Rawiri Jobe – Shortland Street) has Alexa’s back and cranky cat, Chowder, can’t help but complicate everything.
Whether it’s investigating homicidal hairdressers, brutal ballet dancers, wicked widows, or even a case of deadly stir fry, Alexa is determined to uncover the most carefully hidden secrets that crack Auckland’s most bewildering mysteries. But when a case digs up her painful past, Alexa herself becomes a suspect and she’ll need her friends’ help more than ever to clear her name.
With a fifth series already in the pipeline, now is the perfect time to catch up with My Life is Murder for a thrilling mystery adventure full of sharp wit, charming characters and plenty of drama.
Acorn Media International to release My Life is Murder Series 4 on DVD and digital 30 June, alongside My Life is Murder Series 1 - 4 Box Set, following its run on U&Alibi.
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