One of every 100 adults in the United States is in prison, the highest rate in the world, besting such global bastions of human rights as Russia, South Africa, and China. India, with more than one billion citizens, has only 281,000 prisoners total. Why are incarceration rates so high in the United States compared to the rest of the world?

Perhaps worse than the high incarceration rates in the United States is the racial bias that exists in the U.S. criminal justice system. A black male is nearly 10 times more likely than a white male to face a prison sentence. A Hispanic male is three times more likely than a white male to be imprisoned.

In our February issue, InTheFray explores what it is like to be imprisoned, both by the criminal justice system and by other forces. In The forgotten victims, Federica Valabrega tells the story of the families of death row inmates, people whose suffering is very real, but whose grief is often viewed as illegitimate, as it is on behalf of a convicted criminal. J.D. Schmid tells another untold story in A day in the life of a public defender, offering us a behind-the-scenes, first-person look at public defense in rural Minnesota.

In his review of Brother One Cell, the story of Cullen Thomas, James Card relates a bit of what it is like to be imprisoned in South Korea. Photographer Anna Weaver shares a series of images titled On the bricks again that tells the story of Tricia Binette, a recently released prisoner who is struggling to return to her former life while avoiding the dangers that previously landed her in prison.

Of course, those of us fortunate enough to escape imprisonment by the state often battle with the imprisonment of our own psyche. In her piece Craving freedom, Victoria Witchey tells her jailbreak experience, relating how she escaped from a prison of her own making. Christopher Mulrooney explores themes of imprisonment in his poetry series The luster of pearl and pico rat traps.

I suspect that the high incarceration rates in the United States can be largely attributed to the war on drugs. Many convicts and ex-convicts struggle with addiction to drugs and alcohol, and often terms of release dictate abstinence from chemicals. When they fail in their struggles with addiction, many find themselves back in jail. Treatment programs are available, but often underutilized or ineffective. The epidemic of drug use in this country is indeed serious, and must be dealt with in a serious manner, but it seems to me it is an inefficient use of resources to combat a disease by attacking the symptoms and ignoring the cause — the disease of addiction. There are no easy answers, but the human cost of the imprisonment approach to our drug epidemic seems too high to bear.

Aaron Richner I am a writer/editor turned web developer. I've served as both Editor-in-chief and Technical Developer of In The Fray Magazine over the past 5 years. I am gainfully employed, writing, editing and developing on the web for a small private college in Duluth, MN. I enjoy both silence and heavy metal, John Milton and Stephen King, sunrise and sunset. Like all of us, I contain multitudes.

With the global economy in crisis, terrorist gunmen spraying bullets into crowds of innocent civilians, and political and religious unrest around the world, it can be easy to focus on sadness and despair and miss the joy in the world around us. We have all experienced the sensation of joy, but what is the source of that happiness? In those who have been diagnosed with depression, their malaise is attributed to a chemical imbalance in their brains. Is happiness a neurotransmitter? Is it serotonin and dopamine levels? Or is it something more profound than that?

In Suicide in paradise, Maura O’Connor investigates why Sri Lankans have one of the highest suicide rates in the world, despite having gross national happiness (GNH) measures higher than India and Russia. Elsie Sze takes us to Bhutan in her piece Happiness in Bhutan. The Himalayan kingdom is famous for its high GNH rankings despite widespread poverty and a lack of first-world luxuries. Jon Hall recently attended a conference in Bhutan exploring the reasons for this and shares some of his insights in a Dispatch for the 4th International Conference on Gross National Happiness.

What the Bhutanese provide a demonstration of is that happiness comes from within, not from the comforts of the external world. In A boy grows in Brooklyn, Claire Houston documents the simple, pure joy a child brings to her neighbors, a lesbian couple who have been trying to have a baby for years. Emma Kat Richardson explores the joy of David Sedaris’ humor in From the stage to the page. Of course, happiness is often inextricably intertwined with other, darker emotions. Roman Skaskiw writes of the mixed joys that love can bring in his short story The goblins’ drum. In Riding (uphill) to prosperity, Debra Borchardt investigates how bicycle tourism brings both economic success and controversy to a rural Pennsylvania town. Finally, in On the shoulders of giants, I explore the delight to be found in the the natural beauty of New Zealand.

As with all emotions, happiness is fleeting and difficult to quantify. What is clear, however, is that the source of happiness is inside the human heart and soul, rather than in the outside world. We must each find joy in our own lives and in our own ways, cherishing it when we find it and accepting its departure with the knowledge that this too, like all things, must pass.

If you enjoy reading InTheFray Magazine, help us keep publishing by visiting inthefray.org/donate and giving what you can. The vast majority of our funding comes from you, our loyal readers, making us truly independent media. Thanks for reading and thanks for your support!

Aaron Richner I am a writer/editor turned web developer. I've served as both Editor-in-chief and Technical Developer of In The Fray Magazine over the past 5 years. I am gainfully employed, writing, editing and developing on the web for a small private college in Duluth, MN. I enjoy both silence and heavy metal, John Milton and Stephen King, sunrise and sunset. Like all of us, I contain multitudes.

There exists no line between propaganda and information, but rather a continuum. From the very decision regarding what constitutes news to the interpretation of the facts of a given event, human bias is impossible to remove. Our media is the expression of our culture in the public sphere, and as such, it will always reflect the biases of the underlying culture. In the United States, these biases include American exceptionalism, the supremacy of democracy, the primacy of the individual, the notion that one’s place in life is earned through hard work and perseverance, and many more. Some of these have a positive effect and reinforce a positive group culture, but others have a negative effect and reinforce a negative group culture.

In our November issue, we explore the continuum between information and propaganda and how it manifests itself around the world. We begin with Neil Fitzgerald’s piece Propaganda’s children, which takes a look at the children of Vietnam who have lived their entire lives under the communist regime. In 101 billionaires, Rob Hornstra turns his camera on post-communist Russia and looks at some of those who haven’t benefited from the transition to capitalism.  Leyna Lightman takes us to Istanbul, Turkey, in Attempting a_ure.

Still, we cannot avoid the long shadow of the US presidential election completely. The propaganda flying in the last 20 months has been too thick to ignore. Amy Brozio-Andrews and I review Free Ride: John McCain and the Media in When the foxes guard the henhouse. Jeffery Guillermo takes a look at the US media’s addiction to danger and drama in Disaster for sale.  Terry Lowenstein ruminates on the rituals of the campaign season in Disinformation revealed. Finally, Keith Olsen tears into the media coverage of Sarah Palin in his article A moose-flogging, cheerleading dominatrix?

Whether the result of deliberate intent, or the result of simple human nature, the news media will always exert a level of influence over a population. In the days following the upcoming election, there will be handwringing and recriminations regarding the influence of the media in the campaign. There will be a temptation for some to blame their electoral loss on a media bias, ignoring the role of their own policies and decisions. They will do this to their own detriment. While the "liberal media" may be a good scapegoat, they are not a functional substitute for a political ideology or agenda.

Aaron Richner I am a writer/editor turned web developer. I've served as both Editor-in-chief and Technical Developer of In The Fray Magazine over the past 5 years. I am gainfully employed, writing, editing and developing on the web for a small private college in Duluth, MN. I enjoy both silence and heavy metal, John Milton and Stephen King, sunrise and sunset. Like all of us, I contain multitudes.

Barack Obama has been calling himself an agent of change since he launched his campaign more than 18 months ago. John McCain recognized the power of Obama’s message and tried to claim the mantle of change for himself at the Republican National Convention in St. Paul. Since the beginning of September, this mantra of change coming from both parties has hung heavy in the air, like gunsmoke over a 19th-century battlefield. How much change can either candidate really hope to bring? The sheer size and inertia of the U.S. government all but guarantees that any change will be incremental and slow. Yet both campaigns use the same word. What do the candidates mean when they talk about change?

In this month’s issue, we take a look at change both in the political spectrum and in the wider world. We start with a story of rebirth at the bottom of the earth in Nathan Bahls’ piece An end to the long dark. For the scientists and support staff posted at the South Pole research station, spring means that not only has the sun risen above the horizon for the first time in six months, but flights to and from the rest of the world will soon continue. Accompanying this story is a series of stunning images by Calee Allen that showcase the stark beauty of Earth’s last true frontier.

Both political conventions this year were marked by unrest and protest. In Denver, Mike Ludwig joined the Black Bloc as they protested the DNC and were put down by the police. His piece, Dissent and repression at the DNC, is a story from inside a protest movement. In St. Paul, I watched in horror as my hometown was militarized in response to widespread protests. Journalists, bystanders, street medics and protesters were all arrested. In A bridge too far, I look at what happened here in St. Paul and some of the possible reasons why.

This month’s book review, by Tracy O’Neill, reviews The Faith of Barack Obama, by Stephen Mansfield, a Bush biographer and evangelical Christian. Mansfield takes an in-depth and thorough look at Obama’s faith and how it has shaped his character and his policy initiatives. Next month, we’ll feature a review of Free Ride: John McCain and the Media by David Brock and Paul Waldman.

Faith and culture play a significant role in shaping a person’s psyche. In Amalgamation, Francelle Kwankam looks inward as she arrives in a new country, reflecting upon the countries that have shaped her: Cameroon, the United States, Switzerland and now Spain.

Change is often assumed to be a positive thing when in reality, it is inherently neither positive nor negative. Drew Dutton explores the negative effects of the changes of urban renewal in Loss through change.

Columbia University is known for hosting controversial figures. Katherine Reedy looks back over the speakers the university has hosted during her undergraduate career in her essay Autumn visitors. From Ashcroft to Ahmadinejad to Obama and McCain, the conversations held at Columbia have influenced the conversations in the wider world, and are invaluable experiences for undergraduates, challenging them to explore what they think about an issue and why they feel that way.

We close this issue with Songs of change, five poems from Rae Pater, who profoundly reminds us that change is a constant, inescapable and universal.

Regardless of who wins the U.S. election this fall, things are already changing. The global economy is sinking, threatening to plunge millions more people worldwide into desperate poverty. Clouds gather on the horizon, and, according to the experts, they threaten a storm of generational proportions, unseen since the grinding misery of the Great Depression. Still, there is reason for hope. The political involvement of Americans is as high as it’s been in my lifetime. There is a sense that it’s time to act, each one of us, to reshape the world into a place that is more equitable, more free and happier. With every crisis comes opportunity. We must not be afraid to seize it.

Aaron Richner I am a writer/editor turned web developer. I've served as both Editor-in-chief and Technical Developer of In The Fray Magazine over the past 5 years. I am gainfully employed, writing, editing and developing on the web for a small private college in Duluth, MN. I enjoy both silence and heavy metal, John Milton and Stephen King, sunrise and sunset. Like all of us, I contain multitudes.

The history of humanity is a history of movement. As the first humans wandered out of Africa and began to spread across Europe and Asia, and then North America and South America, they became the world’s first immigrants. Just as with those who immigrate today, these mass migrations were made up of hundreds or thousands of individuals and families, each with their own story of how they uprooted themselves from their homes and ventured out into the unknown, encountering unfamiliar environments and searching for a better life. In this month’s issue, we feature a few of these personal stories of immigrants, refugees, and migrants.

Our journey begins with The jaunt, a story by Ashish Mehta about a journey with no obvious destination. Two people leave their home with nothing, one following the other, walking into the unknown with a purpose deeper than understanding.

Like these two people, David Ngaruri Kenney left his home in Kenya for the unknown, fleeing persecution for a U.S. basketball scholarship. In A "little death penalty" case, Scott Kuhagen talks with Philip Schrag about Kenney’s legal struggle for political asylum in the United States.

The pressure to assimilate can weigh heavily on a new immigrant, but nostalgia about what’s been left behind can be stronger. In Feeding the need, Amy Brozio-Andrews reviews Broccoli and Other Tales of Food and Love by Lara Vapnyar, a book of short stories about how familiar food can assuage the loneliness of an unfamiliar country.

Immigrant communities can be another way to ease the pain of transition. Rose Symotiuk, who emigrated from Poland as a young child, grew up in the United States without this sense of community. In Notes from a "white immigrant", she writes of what it feels like to grow up as a "stealth foreigner": someone whose skin color doesn’t advertise her place of birth.

As immigrants settle, they gradually become residents, giving birth to children who call their adopted country home. Ties to the "old country" begin to fade as the generations progress, until eventually a family has little connection to its ancestral lands. Jane Varley, the great granddaughter of Lithuanian immigrants, writes in Where the moon is a hole in the sky of her encounter with her great grandparents’ homeland.

In Scenes from a party in Uganda, Jennifer Lee Johnson gets a taste of a newcomer’s cultural disorientation when she discovers that Ugandan relationships function in a very different manner than American relationships — and realizes that this isn’t a bad thing.

Finally, we turn to Adam Marksteiner, who brings us to San Lucas Tolimán, Guatemala for their Holy Week celebrations in his stunning visual essay Semana Santa.

The movement of people has shaped our world in the past and will continue to do so in the future. While those who leave are shaped by the country they move to, so too is their adoptive home shaped by the culture and traditions they bring with them. Far from diluting the dominant society, the culture immigrants bring with them rather enhances a country, bringing the spices, flavors, and ideas from another part of the world and adding them to the mix. It is this constant flow of people from one part of the world to the other that keeps culture vibrant and alive, a growing entity that is beautiful and strong.

Aaron Richner I am a writer/editor turned web developer. I've served as both Editor-in-chief and Technical Developer of In The Fray Magazine over the past 5 years. I am gainfully employed, writing, editing and developing on the web for a small private college in Duluth, MN. I enjoy both silence and heavy metal, John Milton and Stephen King, sunrise and sunset. Like all of us, I contain multitudes.

Freedom of speech is one of the most basic rights we enjoy in the United States. It is something so deeply engrained into our shared culture that we often forget that there is always a price to be paid for speaking out against injustice. Be it the scorn of others who disagree with one’s activism, or be it governmental censorship and outright oppression, social activists often suffer consequences for their views, words, and actions. In this month’s issue, we share stories of people who make their voices heard (and one who doesn’t) and the cost of such freedom.

We begin with Amy Brozio-Andrews’ review of Janis Hallowell’s novel She Was, in which a 1970s Vietnam War protester crosses the line between activism and terrorism. The consequences of this error in judgment follow her as she builds a new life as a suburban mother and community volunteer.

Often the price of speaking out is the feeling futility. In Will Harlem lose its soul? , William Bredderman talks to Philip Bulgar about Manna’s, the Harlem eatery that’s been serving some of the best soul food New York has to offer for more than 20 years. As gentrification spreads into Harlem, the building that houses Manna’s has been purchased and slated for demolition and redevelopment. Bulgar and the residents of Harlem know that a community landmark is in danger, but their voices seem buried under the voices of the wealthy, who stand to make a fortune from a new shopping plaza on the location.

Tumen Ulzii knows more about the consequences of speaking out than most. In Writer in exile , Ming Holden tells of the Inner Mongolian dissident’s struggles against the Chinese government as he tells the story of the oppression of the Inner Mongolian people.

Sometimes, though, the price we pay for not speaking out is just as high. In Dialects , a poem by Rokshani Chokshi, the white skin of the poem’s subject does all her speaking for her. Marlon Rachquel Moore shares the emotions she bears when she stays silent in the face of a common injustice in her article Confessions of a female boxer .

Whether the consequences are physical and oppressive as with Tumen Ulzii, or internal and psychological, as with Marlon Rachquel Moore, the decision to speak out or remain silent always bears a cost. It is for each of us to determine for ourselves if the price of activism is one that we are willing to pay, or if we can afford to remain silent.

Aaron Richner I am a writer/editor turned web developer. I've served as both Editor-in-chief and Technical Developer of In The Fray Magazine over the past 5 years. I am gainfully employed, writing, editing and developing on the web for a small private college in Duluth, MN. I enjoy both silence and heavy metal, John Milton and Stephen King, sunrise and sunset. Like all of us, I contain multitudes.

    Oil may be the foundation of our economy, but water is the foundation of our lives. The average human can go weeks without food, but just a few days without water can mean death. Yet, like oil, our water resources are shrinking. One in six people today lack access to clean drinking water. While hotels in Las Vegas build fountains in the desert, a child dies of a water-related illness every 15 seconds.
    And things are getting worse, not better. The world’s population grows, living standards rise, and global water usage skyrockets. Middle classes expand, but carbon emissions increase, the earth warms and deserts spread, as the Sahara has over northern Africa. The wars of today may be fought over oil, but the wars of tomorrow will be fought over water.
    As with all of our resource shortages, the solutions to any impending water crisis lie in both conservation and innovation. We must seek to both reduce our consumption and develop technologies to allow fewer resources to serve more people. As is often the case, it makes sense to combine both the conservative approach of saving water or energy with a liberal approach of spending money on technological development. The devil, of course, is in the details. 
    In The Coney Island of Gregory Kiss’s mind, Michael Thomas Tedder writes of how one such innovative technology, photovoltaic glass, is being used at the new Stillwell Avenue Subway Terminal at Coney Island in New York. The architect, Gregory Kiss, uses the project to demonstrate that solar power can be both environmentally and fiscally sound, disproving not only political conservatives, but also traditional progressives, who are also inclined to think of solar power as expensive.
    Conventional wisdom holds that the Democratic Party has a lock on the African American voting bloc. Because of this, both parties write off the group’s vote and consequently ignore African American issues. Keli Goff’s Party Crashing: How the Hip-Hop Generation Declared Political Independence, reviewed by our book editor Amy Brozio-Andrews, explores how conventional wisdom might be wrong.
    A disenfranchised electorate can speak to the frustration inherent in politics. Emma Kat Richardson tells of her frustration in attempting to visit the heart of American politics, Washington, D.C., in her essay District of despair. A self-described "political junkie," Richardson’s love of the political process is palpable in her impassioned account.
    Pris Campbell explores how love is a self-conserving force, staying with us in fragments and images long after a relationship has died, in her series of poems entitled Romance and reminiscence. Her poetry is accompanied by artwork by Mary Hillier. 
    In Streethaiku, An Xiao uses the poetic form to inspire a photo essay that, like its namesake, uses a small part to suggest a larger whole. The images discard what is not necessary and capture the essence of their subject, and nothing more.
    Just as an old love can burn brightly for decades or a political voting bloc can be taken for granted for a generation, the power of conservation can dominate our lives in both positive and negative ways. Conservation can mean preserving something valuable, like oil, water, culture, or tradition, or it can mean clinging to old ideas for no more reason than they are what our parents and grandparents believed. The art of conservation is in determining how to strike a balance that maintains the good aspects of conservation while avoiding the bad.
    We hope that you enjoy this month’s issue. Thanks for reading!

Aaron Richner I am a writer/editor turned web developer. I've served as both Editor-in-chief and Technical Developer of In The Fray Magazine over the past 5 years. I am gainfully employed, writing, editing and developing on the web for a small private college in Duluth, MN. I enjoy both silence and heavy metal, John Milton and Stephen King, sunrise and sunset. Like all of us, I contain multitudes.

Bitch mentioned Sex in Pakistan (ITF, June 2008) in a recent blog post.

ITF Media Team

There were four of us, and we sat together in a boat on Cass Lake, catching walleyes, Minnesota’s state fish. Cass Lake is located in northern Minnesota, nestled amidst the pine trees of Chippewa National Forest, near the modest headwaters of the Mississippi River. We were having a good night. I landed a 26" walleye, a big fish but not a trophy, and my wife landed a 27" walleye shortly afterwards, both of which we photographed and released. As the sun dipped below the horizon and clouds gathered on the southwestern shore of the lake, we decided to call it a night. Unfortunately for us, the boat had different plans. The engine refused to start. The clouds drew nearer. Lightning flashed from across the lake. We hunkered in and braced ourselves for the impending storm.

As this issue of InTheFray reveals, Kyla Pasha and Sarah Suhail are bracing themselves for a storm of another variety. They are the founders of Chay Magazine, an online publication focusing on sex and sexuality in Pakistani society. Despite the inevitable criticism they expect for addressing such a controversial topic so directly, they’ve already received a host of encouraging responses. In Sex in Pakistan, Sarah Seltzer interviews Kyla Pasha about the magazine and what she’d like it to accomplish.
 
Argentina is no stranger to turmoil, either. In this month’s travel narrative Buenos Aires, ITF contributing news editor Suan Pineda takes us to the Argentinian capital, where locals and tourists alike dance the tango together. As Argentina’s economy booms and high-rise condominiums look out over slums, the clouds of social discord gather on the horizon as they have so many times before. And when the storm does strike, tango will carry Argentinians through the chaos.

In her short story The end of the song, Zdravka Evtimova considers chaos of a time gone by. The story tells the tale of Dono, the brutal chieftain of a clan of carters, and his wife, Vecka. Even as her husband beats her, Vecka draws strength from the song she sings, a song that even Dono is powerless to resist.

The birth and proliferation of the iPod has allowed the rest of us to use music to escape the tempests around us as well, even those of us who can’t sing. In In Tune with the Ipod, Amy Brozio-Andrews reviews The Perfect Thing: How the iPod Shuffles Commerce, Culture, and Coolness. She tells how Steven Levy writes of the iPod and how, far from insulating individuals from culture, the device instead allows audiences to enjoy music, podcasts and blogs on their own terms.

The serene eye at the heart of this month’s stormy issue is Fragments of Dreams, Lianne Milton’s series of photographs shot with a small plastic Holga camera. The cheap construction, simple lens, and many light leaks produce natural vignettes and other unique effects that can’t be duplicated with Photoshop. The result is a series of photos that is both peaceful and surreal.

Just as the gathering clouds or cultural upheaval in Argentina may not portend a disaster, the storm we saw moving across the lake didn’t hold a disaster for us. A friend with a nearby boat towed us to shore, and the storm passed by to the south, sprinkling us with rain, but sparing us its more fearsome elements. Soon, we were seated around a campfire, trading fishing stories, talking and laughing. That is what’s most excruciating about anticipation: one never knows what will happen. The storm clouds that gather on the horizon might wipe out a town, leave a country’s economy in shambles and claim lives. Or they could just as easily pass by, leaving lives, homes, and countries intact. One never knows …

Aaron Richner
Editor
St. Paul, Minnesota

Aaron Richner I am a writer/editor turned web developer. I've served as both Editor-in-chief and Technical Developer of In The Fray Magazine over the past 5 years. I am gainfully employed, writing, editing and developing on the web for a small private college in Duluth, MN. I enjoy both silence and heavy metal, John Milton and Stephen King, sunrise and sunset. Like all of us, I contain multitudes.

Please join us for InTheFray Live! — a benefit for InTheFray.org!

InTheFray is an online magazine with commentary, images, and literature that inspire conversations about identity and community. The benefit reading and performance will include essays, poetry, and more read by InTheFray contributors and friends: Sarah Seltzer, Meera Subramanian, Rachel Van Thyn, Aimee Walker, Daniel Wolff, and surprise guests!

Date: May 6, 7-9 p.m.

Location: Parkside Lounge, 317 East Houston Street between Ave. B and C (at Attorney street). F train to 2nd Avenue.

Suggested Donation: $10

Check inthefray.org/benefit for updates. For more information about the magazine, go to inthefray.org. 

Daniel Wolff, besides being a long-term member of the advisory committee for InTheFray, is a Grammy-nominated music writer with poetry published in mags from The Paris Review to The Aquarian Weekly, nonfiction that includes his last book, Born to Run: The Unseen Photos, and a producer’s credit on an ongoing documentary film project about New Orleans directed by Jonathan Demme.

Andrew Blackwell is a Canadian American editor, director, and writer whose work has been broadcast on PBS, NPR, and various places internationally. While living in Colombia he was editor and consulting producer of the documentary La Sierra, about paramilitary gangs in Medellín. He is also a member of the Board of Directors for InTheFray. He lives in New York City.

Sarah Seltzer is a freelance writer based in New York City. In addition to InTheFray, her work has appeared in Bitch, the Los Angeles Times, Venus Zine, and more. She pens a weekly column on pop culture for RH Reality Check, a reproductive justice website, and is a regular book reviewer for Publishers Weekly.

Meera Subramanian lives in Brooklyn and writes about culture and the environment for InTheFray, The New York Times, Salon, Audubon, Grist, and others. She is currently working on a book about the peregrine falcons of New York City.

Aimee Walker is a New York City-based poet and Vice President of the Board of Directors for InTheFray. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Paris Review, Heliotrope, Rattapallax, and the Grolier Poetry Prize anthology. She has received scholarships and grants from the Provincetown Fine Arts Work Center and the Astraea Lesbian Writers Fund.

Rachel Van Thyn is a not-so-recent transplant from Toronto, Canada, by way of Montreal. She currently works for AVODAH: The Jewish Service Corps — a nonprofit that runs a service corps program for young Jews in their 20s, that combines social justice work and Jewish study. Rachel lives in Brooklyn and enjoys reading, writing, doing ballet, pretending to bake, and walking goats at harvest festivals in Red Hook. She is thankful for her friends and family, as well as InTheFray.

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ITF Media Team