They got all that, and a check, to boot. 83-year-old Leonard Solomon stood up in a line of people asking questions of a post-screening panel, but instead announced he was giving $25,000 to fight hate crimes and bullying.
“The movie made me realize the size of the bullying problem,” the retired Fort Lauderdale resident explained. “There was a lot that struck me about it -– the lawsuit, how lax the school administration was. I knew I wanted to get involved.”
Solomon said that at just 5’2” and Jewish, he faced some teasing growing up but found out his own unique way to solve the problem: “Every school I went to, I would find out who the football team’s fullback was and make him my best friend.”
Solomon said a second, Oscar-winning film he saw recently helped shape his new perspective on the problem: “‘The Artist’ was about staying ahead of the curve,” he said. “And the curve with this bullying is going to become more and more and more and we’ve got to stop it now.”
'Bullied', which focuses on bullied teen Jamie Nabozny's landmark federal lawsuit against school officials for failing to stop harassment, was produced by the Southern Poverty Law Center with help from a donation from the Broward Sheriff’s Office, the only law enforcement agency to contribute.
Solomon’s check will be split between the SPLC, the Anti-Defamation League and BSO, who will use a portion for future public screenings of ‘Bullied.’ Anti-Defamation League officials said they would use the funds to stage Names Can Really Hurt Us assembly programs at two high schools in Broward County, and SPLC executives said the money would help them provide copies of the film free to schools across the nation.
Good news! The number of girls getting interested in STEM fields is increasing! While the number of boys is still greater, more and more teenage girls are considering engineering as a possible career, thanks to a lot of positive messaging. And now, the Intel Foundation has instituted a new “holiday” that will give everyone cause to reach out even more: Introduce a Girl to Engineering Day!
RIVERSIDE, Calif. — Rick Ruzzamenti admits to being a tad impulsive. He traded his Catholicism for Buddhism in a revelatory flash. He married a Vietnamese woman he had only just met. And then a year ago, he decided in an instant to donate his left kidney to a stranger.
In February 2011, the desk clerk at Mr. Ruzzamenti’s yoga studio told him she had recently donated a kidney to an ailing friend she had bumped into at Target. Mr. Ruzzamenti, 44, had never even donated blood, but the story so captivated him that two days later he called Riverside Community Hospital to ask how he might do the same thing.
Halfway across the country, in Joliet, Ill., Donald C. Terry Jr. needed a kidney in the worst way. Since receiving a diagnosis of diabetes-related renal disease in his mid-40s, he had endured the burning and bloating and dismal tedium of dialysis for nearly a year. With nobody in his family willing or able to give him a kidney, his doctors warned that it might take five years to crawl up the waiting list for an organ from a deceased donor.
“It was like being sentenced to prison,” Mr. Terry recalled, “like I had done something wrong in my life and this was the outcome.”
As a dawn chill broke over Chicago on Dec. 20, Mr. Terry received a plump pink kidney in a transplant at Loyola University Medical Center. He did not get it from Mr. Ruzzamenti, at least not directly, but the two men will forever share a connection: they were the first and last patients in the longest chain of kidney transplants ever constructed, linking 30 people who were willing to give up an organ with 30 who might have died without one.
What made the domino chain of 60 operations possible was the willingness of a Good Samaritan, Mr. Ruzzamenti, to give the initial kidney, expecting nothing in return. Its momentum was then fueled by a mix of selflessness and self-interest among donors who gave a kidney to a stranger after learning they could not donate to a loved one because of incompatible blood types or antibodies. Their loved ones, in turn, were offered compatible kidneys as part of the exchange.
Chain 124, as it was labeled by the nonprofit National Kidney Registry, required lockstep coordination over four months among 17 hospitals in 11 states. It was born of innovations in computer matching, surgical technique and organ shipping, as well as the determination of a Long Island businessman named Garet Hil, who was inspired by his own daughter’s illness to supercharge the notion of “paying it forward.”