Over a thousand driving instructors downed their clipboards and sunglasses to coincide with the local-government strikes.
And with the crunch of sagebrush under a new, modified wheelchair, Mr. Kubacz, 37, and his instructor rolled down the slope and then soared into the expanse, his paraglider canopy lofting in the breeze.
Behind him, sitting on a blue yoga mat, his sister, Chae-won, the shortest girl in her first-grade class, stretched to touch her toes, squealing as an instructor pushed down against her back.
Behind him, his sister, Chae-won, the shortest girl in her first-grade class, stretched to touch her toes on a blue yoga mat, squealing as an instructor pushed down against her back.
The instructor slows down, gives me a thumbs-up.
I notice an instructor bearing down on me.
The 34-year-old native of upstate New York has a halo of curly brown hair and the straightforward, calming demeanor of a yoga instructor, right down to the sporty, earth-toned clothes she favors.
Therefore, the instructor sat down with each group, asked them how they were going to answer the question, and helped guide their thinking as necessary.
On Friday morning, Donald Trump spoke at CPAC, where he persisted in propagating his sick vision of a future America where heavily armed kindergarten instructors mow down determined psychopaths.
Every other week he and about 20 of his students and instructors drive down from North Jersey to the Stardust Ballroom in Pennsauken, a no-frills dance hall near Camden that Mr. Calderon calls the best club he has ever attended.
