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Nadege Green

Nadege Green loves only-in-Miami stories. After five years as a Miami Herald reporter, she is convinced Miami is the best news town ever. Really, you can’t make up some of the stuff that happens here.

Nadege has covered local city governments and as a sub-beat, Miami’s Haitian community.

She is a graduate of Barry University where she majored in English with the hope of someday becoming the next great novelist — she’s still working on that dream.

Students from across the country are planning to participate in a coordinated national walkout on Wednesday in response to the high school shooting in Parkland.

A few days after the shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, 16-year-old Aiden Edrich carried a bouquet of hydrangeas from Publix, still wrapped in plastic. He walked over to a makeshift memorial of teddy bears and crosses.

“For all the victims, all 17 victims," he said. "It's just to show our respect to the community." 

His parents brought him and his sister to the memorial just down the street from the high school.

After several news stories highlighted that Publix routinely denies employees access to  HIV prevention medication and growing outcry on social media, the grocery store chain announced a change of course Tuesday.

On its official Twitter account, Publix said it will now cover Pre-exposure Prophylaxis (PrEP)--a medication that reduces the risk of catching of HIV. Florida leads the country in new HIV cases. 

When a family loses a loved one, Lori Hadley-Davis walks them through the delicate and detailed process of preparing for the funeral.

Will the family choose a burial or cremation? What about flowers or a poem for the  funeral program? And when the deceased was killed by gun violence, it usually prompts an unasked question: “Do we need the police there?”

Hadley-Davis, a mortician and owner of  Hadley Davis Funeral homes, says for nearly all of the funerals she’s planned for homicide victims in recent years, that answer is yes.  

Sister Margaret Ann greets her students as they’re dropped off to school in the morning.

She helps open car doors, gushes over a student’s cute dog and warns a group heading to the Everglades on a field trip to be on their best behavior because alligators are nothing to play with.

After waiting in long lines for food assistance cards after Hurricane Irma, some of the recipients in Miami-Dade are reporting the cards could not be used within the timeline they were given. 

The Department of Children and Families (DCF), which manages D-SNAP, the Florida disaster food assistance program, said it would take up to 72 hours for cards to be activated. In some cases, people were reporting a week later they still didn't  have any money on their cards. 

Latoya Williams was concerned about her first paycheck after Hurricane Irma.

She couldn’t go to work for seven days because the early childcare center where she teaches was closed because of the storm and its after-effects.

“Whatever I make is what I make,” said Williams. “I have no supplemental income. It really would have been hard and tight."

Like most hourly employees, Williams doesn’t get paid if she doesn’t show up to work— even if the reason is an act of nature. The economic impact of Irma could have a devastating affect on individuals who work hourly jobs.

Arnetta Gordon is a Miami-Dade public school teacher.  After leaving Miami to escape Hurricane Irma with her husband and four children, she returned to her Liberty City home which like thousands of others had no electricity.  Gordon has a 9-month old infant who she breastfeeds.

She wrote WLRN about the challenges of breastfeeding with no power:

Days after Hurricane Irma battered South Florida, Rufus James walked through his Liberty City neighborhood in Miami looking for paid work to chop down trees and clean up yards.

Like many Floridians, James, 57, was going on day four with no electricity. At home, he had three grandchildren to feed. They’re eating “cornflakes and whatever we can come up with. I’m looking for some food,” he said.

Before the storm, James said he worked odd jobs — helping elderly neighbors mow their lawns or move heavy items. Post storm, no one was paying for help yet.

Eugene Johnson purchased two loaves of bread and batteries for his flashlight. Those are his supplies in preparation for Hurricane Irma.

“I’m on fixed income,” said Johnson. “This hit me out of the blue. I had to pay my rent, my electricity bill and stuff like that.”

In his kitchen cabinet he already had a few cans of tuna and he plans to boils some eggs.

Johnson, 65, lives in an affordable housing complex in Miami and, like many of his neighbors who are also on fixed or limited income, he doesn’t own a car.

Megan Hobson was 16 years old when she was caught in the crossfire of a drive-by shooting in Miami Gardens.

Heidy Rodriguez, 17, created an LGBTQ support group at her Miami-Dade high school when she realized that like her, many of her friends needed a place to share their struggles and successes.

A new gun club in South Florida is geared towards training black gun owners and teaching people to support the Second Amendment within the black community.

A group of students at Miami Norland Senior High in Miami Gardens spent part of their freshman year writing about their lives in poems and short stories.

The loss of a parent, struggling with low self-esteem, racism and homelessness are among the central themes in the narratives they penned about themselves.

Now sophomores, some of their works are collected in a new self-published book, “iRead, iThink, iWrite.”

Florida Sen. Frank Artiles, a Republican, resigned last month after the Miami Herald revealed he had said the n-word and called a fellow senator, Audrey Gibson, a “bitch”.

Artiles also referred to Gibson, a black woman, as “girl.”

Marsha Halper

You'll often hear the news of young people tragically dying from gun violence. But what about those who live?

Jaden Piner started acting because his grandma made him do it.

She was preaching at church one Sunday and needed a visual element for her sermon. She tapped the then fifth grader to act out her words on the pulpit.

“She was talking about when you overcome certain struggles,” said Jaden, 13. “So I had a brick in a bag and I had to act like I couldn't pick it up because it was a struggle.”

Poison Ivy came out as a transgender woman to her family in January.

Her grandmother kicked her out of the house. 

“She didn’t want to see me transitioning,” said Poison Ivy, who asked that her real name not be used. “It’s just so hard for her to notice that her grandson, someone that has loved her for a long time is becoming a woman.”

So Poison Ivy moved in with friends. Some of them don’t know what the 18-year-old does for a living.

Charles Williams is sitting at a table with two of the young men he mentors. They get together at least twice a week.

On this day, they’re talking about sex. More specifically,  about protection.

“In the heat of the moment sometimes, a guy doesn't necessarily reach for a condom,” Williams tells Dwayne Jackson, 14, and Traivon Harris, 15. 

The boys get bashful and chuckle at William’s blunt delivery.

 

According to an FBI report released this week, almost all of the FBI’s experts who conducted microscopic hair analysis gave flawed testimony in criminal trials.

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