Texanna Edwards, a senior at Gibson County High School in Dyer, Tennessee, took “inappropriate prom dress” to the next level when she showed up at her prom wearing a prom dress with a Confederate flag design along with a rebel flag necklace.

I don’t really agree with censoring people’s clothing, as it’s an extension of their freedom of speech. (Thank God we live in a country where they have choices). But should teen girls be dressing provocatively, especially on a night when teen hormones are known for being heightened?

And now, it appears, we have to worry not only about our girls being dressed too provocatively but whether or not their prom dress is making some kind of political statement -- one that they might  be not old enough to understand.

Last summer, I went to Earth, Wind & Fire’s 40^th anniversary concert. I knew when I bought the tickets that I was going to offer myself up as a background vocalist and showgirl right from my seat. I mean, come on—it’s Earth, Wind & Fire. “Emotions,” “Fantasy,” “Let’s Groove,” “Boogie Wonderland” Earth, Wind & Fire. That’s a guaranteed party.

There were people in my section I would’ve never pinned as EWF fans. Jim from accounting, Skater Guy Bill, the lady who frowns at you when you have too many items at the express checkout. They all came on out. There was another, more important person there I never would’ve expected: my mommy. And she was right next to me, hollering out all the lyrics like Phillip Bailey was going to call her onstage for a job well done.

As President Obama acknowledged in his State of the Union address Tuesday night, the American people tend to regard much of what goes on in Washington, DC, with a skeptical eye. But there was a moment during Obama's looong (is it over yet?) speech that, as the parent of two kids attending public elementary school, I found myself wanting to stand up and cheer. Actually, come to think of it, there were a few of them.

Here are five things the President said about education that parents of kids of all ages -- K through college -- can celebrate. (If Washington lawmakers can manage to work out a deal to make them happen, that is -- which is, of course, a big if.)

It’s 12:00 a.m., and when most children are all snuggly buggly wuggly in their widdle beds getting lots of shuteye for their big days at school tomorrow, mine is still awake.

Apparently, her class got in trouble today for excessive chattiness and in a brazen show of authoritative take-that-ness, her teacher slammed them with — wait for it — 60 definitions and 60 sentences. On top of science homework and algebra equations, Girl Child’s whole night has been spent with her face stuck in a dictionary and a marble composition book leading up to now, the stroke of midnight. I am not amused.

When we first decided (my husband and I) that I would work from home while he went to a real job that required actual pants all day long, it seemed like a great idea. I mean, I hated my former occupation -- nursing -- and having the kitchen a mere 10 feet away from me at all times? That's winning.

I could nap whenever I wanted. I could sleep in as late as my body would allow. I could work without pants. I could do my work whenever. Really, there seemed to be no downside! This allowed my husband, the work-a-holic, to work as much as he wanted without having to take time off for sick kids.

Double win!

Until, of course, I realized that the one thing I'd neglected to think about was that I'd be WORKING at home -- not just watching reruns of 90210. And that I'd be forced to balance it all.

Here's how I do it.

Once upon a time, when I was fresh out of college and didn’t yet know what I wanted to do, I became a substitute teacher in Baltimore public schools. (I’ll pause for your head shakes of sympathy and collective awws of pity.) I avoided middle school — my own child was still little but I knew even back then that that tween attitude was for the birds — so I focused on elementary and high school classes.

You’ve all been in school yourselves, so you remember exactly how you behaved (or didn’t) when the sub handed out a worksheet to go along with a super boring video on, like, photosynthesis or the Bill of Rights or conjunctions or something. It was a set-up for chaos back then and it still is. But if you’re a fly on the wall, it’ll show you exactly how your kid really acts when the authority figure in their classroom is new and all deer-caught-in-headlights. Are they a helper or a hellion?

Ah, the comment box. Between the three blogs I contribute to, I always get a heap of input — sometimes heated backlash — about the stuff I post. I dish it, so of course I can take it. One post sticks out in my mind. A reader couldn’t focus on the point I was trying to make in my writing for being distracted by the way I was writing it. My language choice was stereotypical and offensive to my people, she balked.

I blog exactly how I talk in real-life conversation, much to the chagrin of that commenter and others who’ve corrected my grammar, apparently. It’s not that I don’t know the straight-laced, more formal way of expressing my thoughts — I have a degree in English (gasp!) and I’m a writer and editor by trade. But Ebonics is the way my family and plenty other black folks talk. It’s familiar and comfortable. That’s why I think it’s appropriate not only for blogging, but teaching black students. 

Most of us — except folks who don’t have to empathize with anybody because they’re just that wealthy and powerful — love an underdog story. So here’s one that isn’t vying for headline space alongside Amanda Knox or the Wall Street protests, but is no less important.

I know a single father who’s trying to send his daughter abroad for an exchange student program but just can’t seem to get the money together to do it. She, being a none-the-wiser kid, doesn’t know that her dad is struggling behind the scenes. Like most children, she thinks it’s as simple as putting in a request and waiting for her parent to make it magically happen, some way, some how.

This isn’t like a pricey ticket to a hot concert or a $100 pair of Air Jordans. It’s a life-changing experience. Traveling is the greatest gift any mom or dad could give to their kid. It’s just the paying for it part that’s such a bummer.