I was busy teaching in the Peace Corps all year, but school just ended. I’m writing to you on the Fourth of July. It’s weird to be in a place that’s a holiday only for me. I’m thinking of the Fourth of July on the Leelanau Peninsula, the families with their picnics, the bonfires on the beaches, fireworks in the night sky over Lake Michigan, dancing in the park up in Northport. I’m thinking of all the carpenters I know who loaded up their trucks and drove to New Orleans after Katrina.