"Human dignity is inviolable. ... All persons are equal before the law. ... No person shall be favored or disfavored because of sex, parentage, race, language, homeland and origin, faith or religious or political opinions. No person shall be disfavored because of disability. ... There shall be no censorship."

　　These words, more than the national anthems, were music to my ears. So was the knowledge that I now have a voice and will be able to vote in Germany's election later this year. After the ceremony, the mayor cut slices of heavy rye bread and handed them out with salt, a traditional German welcome gesture. I took my slice home, and spread Marmite on it. I may well be German now, but I remain a British citizen, too, and some habits die hard. Radio journalist Esme Nicholson reports and produces for NPR's Berlin bureau. Her forthcoming book on the role of radio in Cold War Berlin, published by Peter Lang Oxford, is due out this fall.

　　Correction

　　An earlier version of this story misstated Bjoern Hoecke's first name as Bernd.

　　Common Core Repeal, The Day After Hugo High School, like many public schools in Oklahoma, was a battleground in the fight over Common Core. What do the Common Core State Standards have in common with congressional Democrats and the Chicago Cubs? They all had a really rough year. Of the 45 states that first adopted the academic standards, many spent 2014 talking about repeal. In Oklahoma (as well as Indiana and South Carolina), it wasn't just talk. The Legislature voted to drop the Core in May. And Gov. Mary Fallin, a longtime champion of the Common Core, in June. So, what happens after a state repeals its standards? In Oklahoma, the answer starts with one word: healing. Because the fight there over the Core was brutal. Supporters cheered the standards for raising expectations, while critics argued passionately that the federal government was trying to take over public schools. The fight against each other and reached fever pitch last spring. Six months later, with the winter cold settling over the state, hundreds of students and educators gathered at the steps of the state Capitol in Oklahoma City for a Christmas tree new-lights. Kids huddled three or four to a blanket.
They were upbeat, but many of their teachers seemed tired. Long day. Long year. "We didn't oppose the Core," said Steve Glenn, a high school principal in southwest Oklahoma. "I mean, we were ready for the change, and then it didn't change. And now we're back. Stick with something; let's go with it. Tell us what we need to do, and we're ready to do it." Here's what happened. Oklahoma adopted the Common Core back in 2010. Amy Ford, a member of the State Board of Education appointed by Gov. Fallin, says schools had several years to gear up for the big switch from the state's old standards, called . "A lot of districts in the state spent a lot of money and a lot of time implementing what was the law that was passed in 2010," Ford says. This school year was supposed to be the first official year under the Core.