I’ve got two pieces of good news: First, there are indeed fireflies in Colorado. Second, the Denver Museum of Nature and Science is gearing up for an entire exhibit centered around magic bioluminescence.
For those of us who grew up in more humid regions to the east, the memory of summer night skies filled with fireflies is tied to a deep sense of nostalgia. People who remember that fondly — like me — like to lament, from time to time, that we don’t see that magic glow in the arid west.
If this describes you, I’ve got two pieces of good news: First, there are indeed fireflies in Colorado. Second, the Denver Museum of Nature and Science is gearing up for an entire exhibit centered around bioluminescence.
Fans at Alamo Drafthouse celebrated that the film represented blackness in a space where people of color have often felt left out.
“Black Panther,” the new superhero movie that’s the first to feature a predominantly black cast, has already broken records at the box office. Its wide theatrical release on Thursday night put it at second place for a Marvel Universe opening weekend.
Beyond America’s normal frenzy for superpowered stories, the film has been celebrated for representing blackness in a space where fans of color have often felt left out. This was made clear before a special screening at Alamo Drafthouse in the West Colfax neighborhood where moviegoers showed up excited and dressed to the nines or in costume.
Jorge Velasquez already had a lot on his mind when he learned his legal status would be terminated.
Jorge Velasquez already had a lot on his mind when he learned his legal status would be terminated. On top of having three kids to raise and the rising rent for his south Denver apartment, his wife, Araceli, had been living in sanctuary for months to avoid deportation.
The immigrant from El Salvador has been in the U.S. for over 20 years. Since 2001, Velasquez has lived and worked here legally under Temporary Protected Status (TPS), a case-by-case relief program that’s usually invoked to help migrants fleeing natural disasters. It was enacted for Salvadorans by the Bush administration after a massive earthquake.
Last year, the Trump administration announced it would terminate the program. Velasquez is now faced with the possibility that he’ll be forced to leave the country, or else live a shadowy existence in the U.S. without documentation.
“I don’t even want to think about going back to El Salvador yet,” Velasquez told Denverite through a translator. With raging gang violence and little economic opportunity back home, he said, it’s simply not an option for him or his kids. Until his legal status is revoked in September of 2019, Velasquez says he and immigration activists have time to lobby congress for a path to citizenship. But higher-profile immigration fights have so far overshadowed efforts to protect TPS holders.