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If you're homeless and in college, what do you do when the dorms close? She faced it.

How one young woman not only escaped homelessness and finished college but is helping others.

This is an original piece by Jessica Sutherland, first featured on Bright and reprinted here with permission. To read more pieces like this, go to Bright and hit the follow button.

The Secret Lives of Homeless Students

After years of homelessness, I graduated college and a competitive master's program. What about the other million-plus homeless students in the U.S.?

 By Jessica Sutherland


Did you know that there are an estimated 1.2 million homeless students in American K-12 schools? For many years, I was one of them. My mother and I lived in the same motel room from kindergarten through third grade; after a few years in a “real" home that ended when I was 11, we spent the next six straight years in a cycle of chronic homelessness in the suburbs of Cleveland, Ohio.

To many people, homelessness evokes images of bums in tent cities, or families sleeping in a station wagon. While we spent our share of time sleeping in a shelter or a car, my childhood homelessness was mostly spent doing what my mother — still, to this day — prefers to call “bouncing around": living in motel rooms, or sleeping in whatever extra space people could find for us in their homes, for as long as we could stretch our welcome. Occasionally, we'd have an apartment for a few months, but we'd never have any furniture, and we'd always get evicted.

Refusing to call our lifestyle “chronic homelessness" didn't mean we didn't keep it a secret, or feel ashamed of it. I spent most of my teen years attending school illegally in my father's sleepy hometown; I was intensely aware that I needed to seem as normal as possible to avoid detection. I didn't completely know the consequences, but I was certain that if people found out, I would get removed to foster care and end up in a new school.

 

Left: 7th grade yearbook picture. We were living with my godmother when this was taken, but by Christmas, we were in a shelter. Right: 8th grade yearbook picture. We were definitely homeless and I cut my own bangs. All images via Jessica Sutherland and used with permission.

Foster care sounded better than my makeshift life with my mother, but I refused to risk losing my school. My school was my safest place, full of friends I'd known forever — even though I had to keep secrets from them. After spending just one week in a Cleveland public school while staying at a downtown shelter in seventh grade, I was very aware of the quality of education I would lose if we ever got caught. My suburban school was the ticket to the future I knew I was supposed to have: a college education.

I was given several advantages at birth — an able body, an active imagination, a pretty face. From a young age, I developed a sense of entitlement to go with them. When a stranger drew my portrait on a bus when I was in preschool, my mother told me it was because I was the most extraordinary little girl in the world. My early elementary years were spent in a magnet school that laid a great academic foundation and cultivated big dreams. Even when my grades dropped, as homelessness became my normal existence, it never occurred to me that I might not go to college.

I was finally removed to foster care senior year, but thanks to some powerful and clever people, I didn't miss a day at my beloved high school. However, I wasn't able to take my college entrance exams until after graduating — at the top third of my class (literally, I was 101 out of 303). I took the ACT the Saturday after receiving my diploma, with none of the prep most of my friends had, and still managed to swing a 30. I was ecstatic: with that score and my decent GPA, I had a great chance of getting into college next year. I was certain that a life full of opportunity and success would follow.

 

I only got senior pictures because the photo company chose me to use in advertising, so they were free.

My foster parents made no mention of forcing me out of their home once I turned 18, but as my birthday loomed, I realized I had no plans for my life between high school and college. I began to work more hours at the 24-hour diner by the freeway, saving money and sleeping little. I knew I needed to figure out what happened next. I was about to be a legal adult, but I still felt very much like a foster kid.

A late-night TV commercial caught my notice after a long shift at the diner: the nearest state school, Cleveland State University, was still accepting applications. I dragged a dear friend on a campus tour the following week. It was weird to be choosing a college in July. My friend was going to a fancy private school a few hours away, but she validated my excitement when we toured the largely commuter school's lone dormitory, a converted Holiday Inn.

“I can see you living here," she said. And so I applied.

At my interview, the admissions officer asked me why, with stats like mine, I would ever apply there. At the time, the school was not known for high standards of admission.

I didn't tell her I was a foster kid with nowhere else to go; I didn't tell her it was my only chance to avoid a gap year; I didn't tell her the structure of the dorm seemed like a better idea than living on my own at 18. I simply expressed my desire to learn.

My acceptance letter arrived within the week. My beautiful parents allowed me to stay with them, rent-free, for the two months between my birthday and the dorm's move-in day. I checked the right boxes on my FAFSA and got grants and academic scholarships I needed to cover most of my expenses. I walked onto two sports teams, in order to cover the rest without loans.

I was going to college, without a gap year interrupting my education. But it never occurred to me that I might not graduate.

"However, a familiar panic set in: where would I live until then? I didn't want to take summer classes just so I could keep my dorm room."

I breezed through my freshman and sophomore years. Those are the days I think of fondly as my most typical college experience.

As a cheerleader for a Division I basketball team, and a mid-distance runner, I was more sheltered and supported than I realized. A small staff oversaw my medical health, while another tracked my academic performance and guided me towards graduation. Thanks to mandatory team study halls and frequent physical therapy in the training room, most of my social circle was comprised of other athletes.

 

 Getting tossed in the air as a CSU Vikings cheerleader.

I traveled for my teams, and I traveled with my friends. I spent spring break in Florida and threw up in the sink of a beachfront McDonald's (to this day, I can't hold my alcohol). I was assigned a crazy roommate who used to stand over me in my sleep, but it wasn't until she threatened to throw me out of a window, in front of our RA, that I learned that I could do something about it. I was upgraded to a large single, and my baseball-playing boyfriend began to spend the night most of the time. I worked at a ridiculously expensive clothing store in a nearby mall.

I was a normal college kid.

 

 Freshman year.

By the end of sophomore year, I was eager to keep up with my friends who felt they were too old for the dorm. I agreed to move into a house with a fellow athlete that coming fall.

However, a familiar panic set in: where would I live until then? I didn't want to take summer classes just so I could keep my dorm room. Even if I did, I would still have to move out of the dorm for two weeks between semesters. I'd spent those closures at my foster parents' house in the past, but the room where I slept had since been converted to an office.

“I have an idea," my baseball-playing boyfriend said to me one night. “You should move into my room for the summer. My mom won't care." He was headed out of state, to play in some competitive league for the entire summer.

“No way. I could never ask her to do that. She'd never say yes."

“I already asked her. She already did."

"Nobody was keeping me in line; nobody was telling me I was allowed to make mistakes."

Junior year was a disaster. My friend and I found an apartment, but she secretly decided to transfer schools mid-year, so she never signed the lease. When she moved out, I was responsible for more rent than I could afford. I soon began working at a downtown brewery more, and going to school less. There was nobody to ask for help or guidance, and my attempts to live with other roommates failed miserably.

Ultimately, I broke the lease and moved into a much cheaper and crummier apartment in a much worse neighborhood. My baseball-playing boyfriend and I fought constantly, and finally broke up. I dabbled in a different major, and my grades plummeted. I'd quit athletics that year, and my life suddenly lacked the excitement and structure it once had. Nobody was keeping me in line; nobody was telling me I was allowed to make mistakes.

For the first time in my life, I got an F on my report card. I decided I needed to take a semester off.

When I told my family about leaving school, nobody challenged me. Nobody told me it was a bad idea to drop out, that nearly half of college dropouts will never return to finish their degree. At 20, completely on my own, I needed an advocate, a mentor, a bossy guide to force me to take the harder road.

But as much as I needed a kick in the butt, nobody told me to keep going. So I didn't.

I dropped out for what became five years, before finally hitting a ceiling at my sales job that could only be shattered with either three more years of experience or a college degree. My boss had always insisted that I was too good for sales, and he strongly encouraged me to finish my bachelor's so I could have more choices.

So, at 25 years of age, I decided to finish what I had started, and returned to Cleveland State as a junior. I didn't have the support of the athletic department, but I had enough life experience to navigate the madness of choosing the right classes and filling out endless paperwork. I knew how to pay bills and keep a roof over my head.

In the meantime, Cleveland State had made vast improvements, and so tuition had tripled. I had no choice but to take out loans to offset what grants didn't cover. I took work as a cocktail waitress to pay my bills.

 

 My first Film Festival, with a film I made in undergrad.

In 18 months, I had my degree — and decided to continue my education even further. After internships and student projects at local news stations and with the Cleveland Indians, I knew I wanted to work in film and television. I had always fantasized about attending film school, but it wasn't until two of my CSU professors pushed me to apply that I thought I might actually get accepted. They were right about me: I got in everywhere I applied, and chose the University of Southern California (USC) School of Cinematic Arts for my Master of Fine Arts.

While packing to move to Los Angeles, I found a box with abandoned applications and glossy USC brochures from years past. USC had been my dream school for nearly a decade, especially while I was dropped out of college. I smiled to myself as I realized how far I'd come. That abandoned dream was about to become reality.

 By 2012, I had a master's degree from USC and a good job at Yahoo!, which I thought was everything I wanted. I always knew I would tell my story one day; now that I had a happy ending, I had the power to help other homeless kids like I once was.

 

 Graduating USC.

Eventually, I went to observe “Mondays at the Mission," a wonderful life skills class for teenagers at the Union Rescue Mission on Los Angeles' Skid Row. When a scheduled speaker got stuck in traffic, I was asked to share my story as a backup. I remember feeling unbelievably nervous. Though it was my story, there was a lot to say, and I had nothing prepared. Before I could say no, founder Christopher Kai assured me that my story was worth telling. I pushed through, speaking for 45 minutes.

I wanted those children to know they had nothing to be ashamed of, that homelessness is not permanent, and that scars heal. Most importantly, I wanted them to learn to ask for help. Once I'd learned to ask for help, to accept it, and to trust others, my life got so much better. I told them that nobody was waiting for them to fail. They had to be brave and open up to trusted adults.

My speech captivated the kids. One student asked me why I didn't cry as I told my sad story. I said that even when things hurt us, wounds heal. Scars remind us of the pain we've survived, but they themselves do not hurt anymore.

After class, a soft-spoken boy named James lingered. I only came up to his shoulders, but his shyness made him seem half my size. “Do you think you could help me get into college?" he asked.

I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. I'd barely gotten into college myself, but…

“Absolutely."

 

 The first photo James and I ever took together.

A year later, my young friend was accepted into 9 out of the 13 schools he'd applied to. In the end, he chose Howard University. He also chose student loans, which are, with rare exception, a necessary evil when attempting to better oneself through higher education.

When his Parent PLUS loans were declined, due — somewhat ironically — to his family's poverty, I created a crowd-funder for him on Tumblr, using the hashtag #HomelessToHoward. It went viral overnight. Within two weeks, we'd raised so much money that I had to apply to start a nonprofit in order to protect the funding as scholarship, rather than income.

I had a master's degree in my dream field, from my dream school; I was on track to a decent career as a producer. While I'd always hoped to inspire young people with my story one day, I hadn't planned to give up my producing career just as it began. I was ill-equipped to run a nonprofit to help homeless kids. But by this point, I'd realized that my life doesn't always go according to plan.

"Yet somehow, when all was nearly lost, someone always saved my day, cheered me on, and pushed me forward. What if Homeless to Higher Ed could be that someone for the 56,000 homeless kids in our colleges today?"

Most nonprofits start with an idea. Planning comes next, then fundraising, and then hopefully publicity. My organization, Homeless to Higher Ed, was built in reverse: We raised money and went public before I knew what our precise mission would be.

I watched my young mentee closely as he transitioned to a college student and mini-celebrity. I quickly realized that money didn't provide everything he needed to thrive; there was so much more to it than that. So I began researching homeless students in American colleges. And I was shocked to find that I could see myself in the statistics.

There were over 56,000 homeless and aged-out foster youth enrolled in American colleges in 2014. I learned that more than 90% of them won't graduate within six years. It took me nine years to get my bachelor's.

Even in a dismal economy, unemployment rates decrease as education level rises: to wit, education is the most reliable escape from poverty. And the most consistent indicator of success in college is whether or not the student's parents attended college. I had no college-educated relatives guiding me.

I also learned that homeless college students tend to be secretive. Fiercely independent. Eager to fit in. Afraid they have no right to be in college. Ashamed of their poverty. Paranoid about what poverty says about them to others. These traits combine to make them hard to identify — and it's even more challenging to get homeless students to accept help, much less ask for it. Daresay that most of them think they don't need it.

I'd never really thought about the odds that I'd beaten to get where I was. To me, it was the only normal course for my life, and failure wasn't an option. Except, of course, for all those times when it was.

Yet somehow, when all was nearly lost, someone always saved my day, cheered me on, and pushed me forward. What if Homeless to Higher Ed could be that someone for the 56,000 homeless kids in our colleges today?

“Homeless college students? That's a thing?"

Six months after incorporating the nonprofit, I had our mission: to normalize the college experience for homeless and aged-out foster youth. This also means that we need to de-stigmatize homelessness, so students in need will self-identify and get the help they need.

I often joke that my greatest shame is now my claim to fame. It's now impossible to Google me and not know that I spent a long time homeless. It's not something I've hidden about myself; I've been open about my childhood for my entire adult life. However, homeless students in college are often quite ashamed of their background, and struggle mightily to hide it. In fact, that 56,000 number is likely just a fraction of the actual homeless and aged-out foster youth in American colleges today, since it's based solely on students' willingness to self-report.

9 times out of 10, whenever I tell someone that I am building an organization that helps normalize the college experience for homeless students, the reaction is, “Homeless college students? That's a thing?"

Yeah. It's a thing. But it doesn't have to be.

Apple TV

Adam Scott and Tramell Tillman in Severance

While remote work has been a mainstay since the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic, more and more companies are attempting to mandate that employees return to the office, on a full or part-time basis, including one now-infamous effort from JPMorgan Chase. The company announced that as of March 2025, all employees were required to return to the office five days per week. Their CEO even ditched the policy that allowed employees to work-from-home two days per week.

To mark the occasion, welcome everyone back ( and perhaps twist the knife a bit deeper?) the United State's largest bank unveiled a plan for a massive $3 billion, 2.5 millions square foot tower on New York's famous Park Avenue—which would house 14,000 workers and feature state of the art architecture and technology—in addition to loading up its new corporate headquarters with perks to help employees transition back to office life.

Some of these "perks" were truly great and truly enticing. Others were... questionable, to say the least.

Grace Tallon on LinkedIn even noticed that some of the benefits of working in the JPMorgan Office seemed like they were yanked right out of one of the most popular current TV shows on the planet: Severance.

If you don't know it, Severance is a psychological thriller on Apple TV that doubles as a dark and biting satire of corporate office culture and capitalism. Employees at a mysterious company called Lumon are "severed" — meaning their brains, memories, and personalities are literally split in half. While at work, they are a different person and retain no memories when they leave the office every night. In return for their sacrifice and for hitting key milestones, the employees receive ludicrous rewards like short dance parties with their boss, melon parties with carved watermelons, and handfuls of balloons. Employees are also expected to marvel at bizarre pieces of art that line the hall, featuring stoic images of Lumon's revered (and more than a bit creepy) founders.

Conversely, JPMorgan's new tower boasted 19-restaurants with at-your-desk delivery, an Irish pub, and on-site physical therapy and yoga. But that's not all!

Tallon notes, however, that JPMorgan also tried to entice employees with things like "personalized climate" in rooms and offices, a "signature scent" that wafts through the halls and somehow reinforced the brand, and, get this, even a "corporate art collection" that celebrates the company's history and values. Be more on the nose next time, will you JPMorgan? That's to say nothing of design elements that support worker's circadian rhythms and coffee machines that learn your favorites over time.

"Let’s stop pretending this is about connecting and doing better work," she writes.

Read Tallon's full post below on the striking similarities:

Commenters agreed that the perks came off more than a little tone deaf.

While some folks defended the corporation for doing their best to make employees feel cared for and taken care of, others didn't quite see it that way, especially when they compared it to the perks of WFH life.

"The climate in my own home office is just right. Along with my own coffee, artwork, lighting (window wide open), and other perks and it cost me zero dollars to drive there and I don't have to wear shoes! Way out of touch," wrote Alix Z.

"Those perks sound more like a high-tech museum experience than actual employee benefits. Instead of a 'signature scent,' how about giving employees real reasons to feel good about coming to work?" said Diana Alayon.

 severance, linkedin, jp morgan, return to office, work, work from home, jobs, workplace, wfh jobs Some at-home perk simply can't be beat. Photo credit: Canva

"Working at home perks: My own candle collection, curated to suit my preferences, Coffee and tea on tap, from our favourite brands, Comfortable cushions and blankets to help regulate my temperature at my desk, A variety of lighting options, ranging from warm white lamps to 'the big light', Freedom to work anywhere I want, such as my office desk, sofa, kitchen table or a coffee shop near by, Personalised art with photos of family and pictures we enjoy, Working space decorated to my own specifications, Plenty of spaces nearby for fresh air and dog walks" wrote Eloise Todd in a mic-drop comment.

There are of course benefits to working together in-person with your colleagues. And sure, if you're required to be there, nothing offsets discomfort quite like delicious lunches and free yoga classes. But to take away even the option of occasionally working from home and duct-taping over it with an algorithm that tracks coffee orders and temperature preferences, and filling the halls with strange paintings that move when employees walk by? It kind of loses the thread, and it's exactly the kind of thinking that the creators of Severance are so good at skewering.

 severance, linkedin, jp morgan, retseverance, linkedin, jp morgan, return to office, work, work from home, jobs, workplace, wfh jobsurn to office, work, work from home, jobs, workplace, wfh jobs Mark (Adam Scott) at the infamous dance party scene in Severance.  media0.giphy.com  

According to Forbes, there are 6 distinct reason companies might push for a return to the office. One, corporate heads believe employees get more "immersed in the company’s values." Two, they think it's easier to monitor whether or not an employee is actually working. Three, to justify the cot of that expensive office space. Four, to foster "spontaneous collaboration." Five, to give new employees a chance to observe and interact with more seasoned worker. and six, to restore a sense of belonging within the company.

But of course, none of these things have anything to do with what people really want: Autonomy. That, in addition to fair pay, some level of flexibility, and good benefits. Perks are nice — even the kind of weird ones — but they can only go so far. It remains to be seen if companies that dictate back-to-the-office edicts are willing to follow through on the things that really matter. Please note how waffle parties did not make that list.

This article originally appeared in February

Canva Photos & Konami

People have found a really great active listening technique in a super strange place.

There is an art to being a good listener. Physically using your ears to hear what someone is saying, and your brain to process it, is only part of the battle. You also have to show the person you're talking to that you're listening and that you care. Asking questions is a great way to keep the conversation flowing and let your talking partner know you're engaged. But what if you're socially anxious, shy, or just can't think of anything to say? It's harder than it seems, especially when meeting new people!

The solution is easy. Just take a page out of Solid Snake's book. Who's Solid Snake? Just a former Green Beret, special ops solider, spy, assassin, and the protagonist of the popular Metal Gear Solid video games. You might wonder what the heck Solid Snake, aka David, knows about active listening. It turns out, quite a lot.

The "Solid Snake conversation method" is taking the world by storm. It's part trend, part meme, and 100% effective.

 conversation tips, social anxiety, small talk, socializing, etiquette, politeness, introvert, video games Solid Snake is here to help your social anxiety!  Giphy  

You don't need to know anything about video games to understand where the method comes from. Suffice it to say, Metal Gear Solid is a plot-heavy game series, full of cut-scenes that feature lots of dialogue and exposition.

It's become a bit of a joke in the gaming world that Snake, a man of few words, tends to fall back on one particular conversational technique over and over: He repeats, or echoes, bits of what the other characters say. It adds emphasis to important points, creates good conversational pacing, and allows the plot and dialogue to continue on smoothly.

Here's a (made up) example:

"Snake, we've got to get the blueprints!"

"The blueprints?"

"Yes, the bad guys are constructing a devastating bomb!"

"A bomb?"

"Indeed! You'll find the prototype in that bunker over there."

"A bunker?"

You get the idea. You can watch it in action here.


  - YouTube  www.youtube.com  

Why does this random video game character speak in this strange cadence? And why are people stealing it to use in real life?

You might think this dialogue is just a clunky tool for exposition or the result of bad writing, but you'd be wrong!

The Metal Gear Solid games are written and developed in Japan by a team led by legendary developer Hideo Kojima. Though translated into English and created in part for an American audience, the games feature a lot of bits and pieces of Japanese culture.

Frequent repetition and conversational echoes are extremely commonplace in Japanese. It's part of a polite active listening technique called "Aizuchi," which refers to frequent interjections to show interest, engagement, reassurance, and politeness.

Aizuchi includes interjecting with words or phrases (or their equivalents) like "I get it," "Yeah," "Really?" or even repeating back parts of the original speaker's words, a la Solid Snake.

According to Niko Smith at FluentU, "Perhaps you already use some of these interjections in conversation. While your friend is [telling you a story]... you might nod a few times or throw in a surprised 'No way!' or 'What happened next?' [Aizuchi] works in a similar way, but it’s more relentless. As the listener in a conversation, you might find yourself doing just as much talking as the speaker."

Smith adds that in America, young people are often taught specifically not to interrupt or speak while someone else is talking. In Japan, doing so frequently—in the right way—is a sign of respect and interest.

Better yet, Aizuchi doesn't require the listener to be particularly brilliant in conversation, charismatic, or creative. Even socially awkward people, or anyone who clams up in social situations, can muster a few polite interjections!

This technique exists outside of Japanese culture, too. In fact, it's a well-known wat to keep conversations flowing effortlessly, give you time to think about what you're going to say, and make your conversation partner feel heard and appreciated.

It's no surprise that people familiar with the game have been trying the technique in real life for years. In 2023, a viral 4chan post helped popularize the idea, and more recently a (now deleted) post on X went super viral referencing how effective the "Solid Snake conversation method" is for meeting new people.

 

The technique is hitting home with young people, especially gamers and the chronically-online, which makes for a really productive and much-needed discussion.

Gen Z has grown up with social media taking the place of many in-person interactions, screens everywhere, and of course, the COVID years. All of these factors affect the way they communicate with each other, especially in real life:

Maddy Mussen writes for The Standard, "Gen Z slang is all about shutting people out. It’s an inside joke, the more unintelligible the better. It’s in keeping with its etymology. When your whole modus operandi is being exclusionary, it doesn’t make for a lot of meaningful conversation."

It would be an unfair blanket generalization to say young people only speak in brainrot and have no idea how to operate in the real world. But Gen Z is racked with social anxiety to a far greater degree than previous generations. They need all the tools and practice they can get when it comes to operating in the real world and speaking to people they don't know well.

If they, or anyone else, can take a useful tip from their favorite video game character, there's nothing wrong with that at all.

A woman in a hot car.

Cars can become unbearably hot in the summer. Even at a seemingly mild 80 degrees outside, the temperature inside can soar to a scorching 109°F within 20 minutes. According to the CDC, in just 40 minutes it can escalate to a blistering 118°F. After an hour, it can peak at a searing 123°F. And that’s just the air temperature; a dark dashboard or seat can reach a staggering 200°F.

"These objects (e.g., dashboard, steering wheel, child seat) heat the adjacent air by conduction and convection and also give off longwave radiation (red) which is very efficient at warming the air trapped inside a vehicle," the CDC explained in their report. It can take five to 10 minutes for your car to cool down on a hot day by turning on the air conditioning, which probably means you burn your buttocks and thighs on the hot seat. That’s why Hannah Fry shared an amazing hack on TikTok, demonstrating how to cool your car down in seconds using the laws of thermodynamics.

Fry is Professor of the Public Understanding of Mathematics at the University of Cambridge. She is a mathematician, a best-selling author, an award-winning science host, and the host of numerous popular podcasts and television shows.

@fryrsquared

That age-old dilemma of choosing between having a non-sweltering car or baffling a passerby because you look like a fool who doesn't know how to use a door

Fry suggests that instead of turning on the air conditioning, which she claims is “not worth it” because of the time it takes, open one of the windows on the opposite side of the door. Then, rapidly open and close the driver’s side door, so it moves back and forth like a fan.

“The reason why it works is that when you open and close the door, especially if you do it quickly, the door, as it's moving outwards, it sweeps out all of the air that's in its way, creating this sort of area of low pressure that you get here,” Fry said. “And then that sets up something called bulk flow, which is where all of the hot, sweaty, horrible air inside the car is drawn outwards.”

 hot car, hot steering wheel, hot man, sweat, summer,  A man sweating in his car.via Canva/Photos

Fry’s super practical approach to a problem everyone deals with blew many people’s minds in the comments. “If I ever catch someone in real life doing this, I’m gonna know they’ve watched this exact video,” a commenter wrote. “I will give it a go, but while opening and closing the door, scream, ‘Be gone, heat demons! BE GONE!’” another added. “Going to remember this the next time my partner farts in the car,” someone joked.

The fact that the inside air temperature in a car and the outside temperature are often drastically different, especially in the summer, serves as a crucial reminder to dog owners everywhere to never leave their pet unattended in a parked car. "Most dog owners know that you can’t leave a pet in a hot car," the American Kennel Club writes. "Temperatures can rise to dangerous levels in just minutes, putting your dog at risk of heatstroke. But what if you open a window a little bit? Does that make it safe to leave your dog in the car? The answer is simple. You should never leave a dog alone in the car, even with the windows cracked. In some states, it’s even illegal."

The following video by The Dodo explains why leaving a dog in a hot car can be deadly, even when it doesn’t feel that hot outside.

  - YouTube  www.youtube.com  

Cat have their reasons for doing what they do…even if they perplex us.

Cats have their fair share of quirks, from midnight zoomies to baking invisible biscuits to those weird alien chirps. But the one eccentricity that seems to go against their very nature as descendants of apex predators is their finickiness around food.

As any cat mom or dad will tell you, these critters take picky eating to Olympian levels, rivaling that of any toddler. To really put that into perspective, below is a delightful TikTok (shared by @thecutestcatseveryes) outlining the very logical “reasons” why on any given day, a cat might suddenly refuse to eat…despite yowling out of desperate hunger mere minutes before.

The “reasons not to eat your food if you're a cat," include:

  1. Bowl was placed down too loudly.
  2. The vibe was off.
  3. Don't like chicken, as of today.
  4. Felt like I was being rushed.
  5. I'm a cat.

Even the kitty featured in the video seemed to approve this message.


In the comments, other cat parents shared their purrfectly reasonable reasons to refuse noms noms, such as:

“Bowl was faced the wrong way.”

“Same flavor twice in a row.”

“I eat at 4:30pm, not 4:31pm.”

“I can see the center of the bowl is empty therefore there is no food, edges don’t count.”

“I want the other can, not the open one in the fridge. New can every feeding."

“I’d rather eat what my brother is eating, which is exactly the same as what I’ve got but I want his specifically.”

Listen, we can joke all we want, but it turns out that cats likely come by these picky eating habits naturally—and don’t do it simply to make our lives harder. As PetMD explains, wild cats subsisted on frequent meals of whatever smaller mammals they were lucky enough to catch while hunting, usually during dawn and dusk. Domestic kitties still might have this instinct, which manifests in a predilection to eat a variety of small meals, which feel fresh as to mimic a fresh catch, throughout the day.

 cats, cat food, best cat food, cat refusing to eat, funny cat videos, pets, picky cats, cat treats Look at this wee little tiger munching on his meal. Photo credit: Canva

The site added that kitties could have learned to prefer a certain type of food thanks to their mother, or might have eaten a particular food during a moment of stress or illness, and thus maintain a negative association with it.

There are, however, certain things humans can do to make food more appetizing, PetMD explains. To mimic fresh prey, the site suggests warming up food to about 100 degrees Fahrenheit (same as a normal body temperature) and moisten dry food with a bit of water. Some cats might even respond better to food that has the specific shape and look of fresh prey.

 cats, cat food, best cat food, cat refusing to eat, funny cat videos, pets, picky cats, cat treats And if there's a loud noise during dinnertime, forget about it. Photo credit: Canva

Of course, even if we follow all these steps to a T, we still might get some finickiness from time to time for reasons unbeknownst to us (though “vibes being off” is a good catchall excuse). Still, it won’t keep us from loving our furry little weirdos any more.

Heroes

Pittsburgh airport staff heroically recover diamond that fell from woman's ring at baggage claim

She was sure the conveyor belt had eternally claimed her 33-year-old engagement diamond.

Pittsburgh airport staff heroically finds woman's lost diamond

An engagement ring isn't the start of a journey with a partner—it's a promise to continue the journey you've already started. That's why engagement rings hold so much sentimental value to the person who receives it. The ring is something they cherish forever in most cases, which is exactly why when April Schmitt realized she lost the diamond out of her engagement ring she flew into a panic.

She knew the stone was lost somewhere near or in the baggage claim area at the Pittsburgh International Airport in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Schmitt has been married to her husband for more than 30 years, so she knows her engagement ring like the back of her hand (literally). The diamond was sitting in its pronged setting when she landed at the airport and made her way to the baggage claim area, but she noticed it was gone shortly after her husband picked her up from the airport.

Once she realized her stone was missing from her ring, she became panicked. She said in a statement, “I panicked and my heart sank. I truly didn’t think I was ever going to see it again.”

 lost diamond; diamond; Pittsburgh airport staff; airport lost diamond; found diamond; good news; humanity Travelers wait at the baggage claim carousel.Photo credit: Canva

The couple, who live in Sewickley, just a quick 30 minute or less drive down the road, immediately made their way back to the airport to find the missing diamond. Some diamonds may appear large when they're placed on a band but unless they turn into a strobe light, they're nearly impossible to see in an open, bustling space. Schmitt knew finding the diamond was a long shot but there was no way she was going to let the stone disappear without trying her best to locate it.

When the couple returned to the airport, Schmitt informed the staff about her missing diamond and was met with immense kindness. In this instance, it would've been easy to brush off looking for a clear stone in such a large space but that's not what happened. Instead, the staff member she alerted contacted airport maintenance. Suddenly, they had an entire team of people looking for the diamond.

 lost diamond; diamond; Pittsburgh airport staff; airport lost diamond; found diamond; good news; humanity Elegant diamond rings sparkling in warm light.Photo credit: Canva

The maintenance crew came with flashlights and searched over, under, and in between the baggage carousel for the diamond. They searched so long that the Schmitts had actually given up and returned home assuming that the sentimental stone was lost forever. But the crew they left behind was determined. Tom Riordan, a stationary engineer, assured the upset woman that the next shift would continue to look for the diamond between flights until it was located, and they did just that.

It was Sean Dempsey, a fellow stationary engineer, who eventually located the missing stone. He told ABC News, "I just was crawling with a flashlight, and we had paint sticks to scrape all the dirt away,” he said. “The diamond caught a little bit of light and I found it.”

Schmitt was thrilled to get the call that her missing diamond had been found. “There were so many ways this story could have ended, but these guys were committed to helping me. I travel a lot, and I go to a lot of airports. To have this experience here and to be treated like an important person—those staffers were so concerned about my happiness and doing the right thing for me. I was not just a random passenger. They went out of their way to take care of me.”

The staff at Pittsburgh International Airport was happy they could be of assistance. Elise Gomez, manager of customer experience at PIT tells Blue Sky News, We’ve really invested in our passenger experience and do everything we can to ensure seamless travel. We know travel can be stressful, which is why we have a variety of programs from our PIT Paws teams to amenities like Presley’s Place for travelers with sensory sensitivities. And of course, at the end of the day, it’s about people. Our team is dedicated to assisting passengers whether that’s helping them find the right gate or finding a lost diamond.”

 lost diamond; diamond; Pittsburgh airport staff; airport lost diamond; found diamond; good news; humanity Vibrant cityscape with a classic red funicular and riverfront views.Photo credit: Canva

This isn't the first time the PIT crew has helped locate a missing diamond. In 2023 Kristen Tunno lost her grandmother's diamond ring while at the airport. April Laukaitis, a customer care agent located the family heirloom lodged between the tiles of one of the bathroom floors.

Airports aren't known for their hospitality so it's always nice to hear when airport staff go above and beyond to be compassionate to travelers.