Charlie Kirk did not deserve to die. Full stop. We do not live in a society that condones vigilante justice, and yet, a man was executed in public view.
All tagged kristy kelly
Charlie Kirk did not deserve to die. Full stop. We do not live in a society that condones vigilante justice, and yet, a man was executed in public view.
Yesterday, I witnessed a handful of adults berate the city council and call for the reallocation of police funds because an officer allegedly abused his power and was caught on video doing so. The police department gave a canned “we are investigating the issue” statement, and the mayor co-signed their message by way of copy and paste.
I thought I was the adult—until the adult child touched the holy grail: the thermostat.
Living with adult children is the fastest path to prison for a parent just trying to stay sane.
“You never invite me to your house,” and, “You never come to mine when I invite you,” are two complaints I hear more than I care to admit.
There’s something deeply humbling about being wrapped in the love of an entire town—a thousand small acts that made our wedding day unforgettable. From the moment my eyes opened on the morning of June 13, it was clear that someone had already come through and smoothed the way.
When asked what I’d wanted for Mother’s Day, my answer was simple: To be left alone.
In previous years, I had done all the work to make sure my children were able to give me the Mother’s Day they thought I deserved, and quite frankly, every year it was annoying and exhausting.
Depending on how one quantifies success, the BBQ Fest on the Neuse was either a resounding triumph or a disappointing flop. From the viewpoint of an author hoping to sell books, it may have felt like a failure. But as a columnist, the festival renewed my confidence and reminded me why it's important to keep talking about mental health.
At about 3:45 AM, I knew I was in no condition to go to work. I held off as long as I possibly could before calling out—because calling in sick always makes me feel guilty. I flipped my phone over to keep the light from waking me and crawled back under the covers. That was the calm before everyone else’s very bad day.
In what feels like another life, my days were strategically planned around working the required eight hours, and then going home to tend to little humans in various stages of chaos. I understood the assignment. As long as they didn’t die of starvation or filicide, I was doing a good job. That was my parenting barometer — survival.
What should have been an exciting announcement about Kinston rising to the occasion and becoming a finalist for the 2025 All-American City Award turned into a gathering of the Out-of-Towner-Hater Club—egged on by people too disillusioned to see what’s in front of them.
Being in a woman in her 40s is like playing emotional roulette. Which level of crazy are you going to get when you act foolish toward me? Spin the wheel and find out!
Some years start off fresh and full of promise. This was not one of them. Instead, 2025 kicked in my door, dumped a bucket of germs on my household, and made itself at home. For almost a month the doctors could only seem to tell us what it wasn’t. Just as I finally started feeling human again, I walked straight into an event that reminded me why I’d rather be heard and not seen.
Fear mongering is a tactic of cowards and those who thrive on instability. It preys on emotions, exploiting fear to grab attention and manipulate behavior. In today’s world, where media outlets compete for clicks and shares, fear has become the currency of engagement. News is no longer about informing the public—it’s about capturing attention and keeping people hooked.
The lies I tell myself—that my work isn’t valuable or my success isn’t earned—are easier to believe than the truths others remind me of: that my words matter and my efforts resonate. Positive reinforcement from people I trust feels fleeting, while self-doubt digs in and lingers.
As I scroll through all the "New Year, New Me" posts on social media this week, I can’t help but laugh. New year, same me. No matter how many plans I make, lists I create, or adorable gel pens I buy, procrastination is my loyal companion. There’s no denying it: I will always be the person who waits until the absolute last moment to start a project.
If I could have any superpower, what would it be? This question was asked during a recent video project I worked on. Without hesitation, or much thought, I said invisibility. I’ve spent a lifetime perfecting the art of blending in—being seen but not noticed. True invisibility held a deep appeal.
Generational divides in politics are nothing new, but for a group of tenth graders at Lenoir County Early College High School, the gap between their views and those of older generations feels particularly personal.
For many young people, their first encounters with democracy come not through casting a ballot but through debates, rallies, and protests. These experiences serve as powerful introductions to the political process, shaping their views and sparking engagement.
Teenagers often face stereotypes of being disconnected from politics, but a group of tenth graders from Lenoir County Early College High School is proving that what matters to them goes beyond the surface. In a roundtable discussion, these students candidly shared the platforms and issues that catch their attention, from education and immigration to public safety and equality.