Word: m
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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Anyone walking through Prashant Thakare's freshly planted cotton field in the central Indian village of Takarakhede Shambhu could easily mistake a 65-ft.-wide (20 m) pool of murky water for, well, a pool of murky water. Yet that simple pond has transformed Thakare's 22-acre (9 hectare) farm and, indeed, his life...
...Then came the pond. The local government sent a construction team to Thakare's farm last year to dig the 10-ft.-deep (3 m) pond, financing the $600 investment with funds from a new program to support local agriculture. Strategically located in the path of runoff rainwater, the pond - a common feature of rural-resource management - collects water from the monsoon rains that would otherwise have just been wasted. By capturing and storing rainwater, the pond helps to fill the farm's wells. With a more reliable supply of water, Thakare's productivity soared. Not only did he plant...
...preserve a white-bread world," he observes, "a throwback to an imagined past with 'authentic' 1950s values." Like Sacha Baron Cohen, Benjamin can lull people into saying the most appalling things, as with a new friend who tells him, "I never know what to call you. So when I'm around my buddies, I just use the N-word." The author's conclusion: while explicit racism is no longer acceptable, segregation is on the upswing. Racial refugees won't be able to outrun reality, says the author; by 2042, whites will no longer be the majority...
...unscientific survey of married friends and found that none of them had a clue either. At work and out in the world, I'm Ms. Gibbs; at my daughters' school and the pediatrician, I am Mrs. May; to a few people who've known me since I was 2, Miss Nancy. Some friends use their husband's name, but their e-mail addresses are their maiden name, though that dainty phrase seems to have been banished in favor of birth name. I never understood why, from the perspective of fighting the patriarchy, it was somehow more liberated to bear your...
...never remotely suggested that he was bothered by my not taking his name; in fact, he's accustomed to occasionally answering to Mr. Gibbs. My late father, a fine writer, thrilled to see that name in the pages of this magazine. All these identities are me: Ms. when I'm out slaying dragons, Mrs. when I'm in the company of those I love most, Miss when I want to stay home under the covers and daydream. Feminists a generation ago fought for the title and dreamed of Freedom and Choice and Opportunity; maybe the surest sign that they...