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Mitchell McGinnis owns two music academies and teaches vocal lessons in his spare time. He goes regularly to the gym, but that was as far as his athletic prowess and interest in sports went – until he found himself in Paris, at Stade de France during the 2024 Olympics, watching a sport he knew almost nothing about.

The game looked vaguely familiar: players chasing an oval-shaped ball and piling atop one another. But this was not American football. This was rugby.

While still in the stands, he picked up his cell phone and began searching for anything he could learn about the sport.

McGinnis did not know it yet, but his curiosity would help revive one of Mississippi’s oldest rugby clubs, attracting new players to an organization that nearly died out during the COVID-19 pandemic. 

“I remember sitting there Googling rules and trying to understand what was happening on the field,” he said. “It happened so fast.”

His introduction to rugby came by chance. A friend who won a lottery to attend the Olympics invited McGinnis to Paris.

He started searching for local rugby leagues near his Jackson home. Facebook led McGinnis to the Jackson Rugby Football Club. He began sending messages to the club back home. Within minutes, a practice was scheduled for that August.

Excitement built. But that initial practice fell through. So did another. That’s when McGinnis decided to grab the ball himself and run with it. 

He began recruiting players and scouting a field to play on. He would eventually get Jackson Public Schools’ permission to use Murrah High School’s practice field. Nearly three months after McGinnis first reached out to Jackson Rugby, they were finally going to meet.

He showed up at the high school dressed in a T-shirt and shorts. He kept slipping on the wet grass in his tennis shoes. 

“My friends joke a lot of times that a toxic trait of mine is thinking that I can do anything,” McGinnis said.

While rugby continues to grow in popularity in the U.S., it is hardly a staple of televised sports – dominated by football, basketball and baseball.

Nevertheless, rugby has found homes in some American communities. One of the early Mississippi adopters was Jackson Rugby. 

In rugby, two teams compete to advance an elongated ball to score a try — or a goal — by kicking, running and passing the ball backward. Its origins extend to the early 19th century in England and spread to the United States, mostly on college campuses. USA Rugby, the country’s governing body for the sport, counts 11,000 active players. 

An English sport makes it way to America

In a state dominated by college football, the English sport found its footing in Mississippi’s capital city in 1974. Back in 2010, team members even purchased and created their own makeshift facility with practice fields near Highway 49. 

“We get to have a good time. We get to run around together, laugh at each other, make a joke, have something to look forward to at the end of the week,” said Chris Mendonca, the team’s coach. “This is what I live for.”

Mendonca’s rugby journey started in 1999 during his Air Force deployment to Trier, Germany. Fresh from military training, Mendonca felt he was lacking a community and outlet outside of work. He would run across a local rugby league and instantly fell in love with the sport. 

Rugby became an outlet for Mendonca during his deployments in South Korea, Florida and Japan. Wherever he went, the sport gave him an anchor.

“I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t have this,” Mendonca said.

When he returned to civilian life, Mendonca went to work for Raytheon, a defense and aerospace company, that transferred him to Brandon in 2018.

He already knew he would join Jackson Rugby prior to his move. He had played against the team in 2005 when he played for a club in Okaloosa, Florida.

But it was not the same Jackson rugby team he remembered. 

The team was not nearly as active as it once was. Players left as they began families and started new careers. The last few active members attempted to host practices amid busy schedules. There were talks of merging the Jackson team with the one in Biloxi, but those discussions stalled when the COVID-19 pandemic hit.

Things continued to fizzle until McGinnis gave the team the push it needed. 

The goal: ‘play, have fun, challenge ourselves’

Mendonca was one of the two experienced players available when McGinnis organized the resurgent team’s first practice in October.

Mendonca arrived early and walked around the school parking lot filling a garbage bag with trash as he waited for other players to show up.

McGinnis arrived next. He approached Mendonca, wondering if he was a worker with the school. Mendonca said picking up trash was just something he could do while waiting. The team now makes a habit to clean the parking lot after every practice. 

Nearly two years have passed since the team’s revival on that muggy evening. Now Jackson Rugby regularly has over a dozen players at practice, with new people showing up to try the sport.

On most Sundays at 3 p.m., you can find the team at Murrah High School preparing for its next game. They sprint up and down the field, practice passing the ball and slam into foam pads to perfect their tackles. In between drills, they gather under a bright blue tent that gleams in the sun as they cool off with fresh watermelon and a misting fan.

“If you’re interested in playing, just come out and try for a practice or two,” McGinnis said. “We like to have a good time. It doesn’t matter if you’re a guy or girl. Come out and learn the game with us and have a good time.”

Caroline Swindool joined the group in early February after coming across a yard sign with the team’s information. At first she was intimidated by the predominantly male team. Her love for fitness and trying new things pushed her to join, and Swindool was welcomed with open arms.

“It’s really just a hodgepodge of a bunch of different people that you wouldn’t put together in a group normally, but everybody comes out and has the same common goal,” Swindool said. “We just want to play, have fun, challenge ourselves and get better.”

The club’s newfound popularity hasn’t gone unnoticed. McGinnis said several people approach the team’s tent at the Mobile Battleship Rugby Tournament earlier this month. Some asked about hosting games in Jackson later this year.

James Lawson has been a team member for two decades and has seen the team through hard times. He said the team is exactly where it needs to be.

“I think we got the right combination of people on the team right now,” he said, “and a lot of younger people on the team now to help grow rugby in this area.” 

In a 2005 special session, the Mississippi Legislature was on the verge of selling a significant portion of its future annual tobacco lawsuit settlement funds for an immediate sum of money when a single phone call from the powerful House speaker stopped the process.

Then-state Treasurer Tate Reeves, a Republican who is now in his second term as governor, had explained to legislative leaders how the process to sell the future payments would work. Legislators initially bought into the concept of quickly getting a modest amount of cash rather than patiently waiting to collect a larger amount spread over decades.

Legislation “to securitize” a portion of the annual tobacco lawsuit funds passed the Senate. The bill was expected to pass the House Appropriations Committee and ultimately the full House when Speaker Billy McCoy made a phone call to Appropriations Chairman Johnny Stringer minutes before the committee met.

One version of the story is that McCoy informed his money chairman that he was withdrawing his support for the proposal, and another version is that McCoy told Stringer point-blank not to pass the bill. The story further goes that McCoy made the pivotal phone call after a meeting with Gulf Coast Rep. Diane Peranich, one of his key allies, who voiced strong opposition to securitization.

At any rate, after that call, Stringer killed the bill.

The only problem was that the Legislature still had to deal with a whopping $268 million Medicaid deficit. Even by today’s inflationary standards, such a deficit would be significant. In 2005, it was near catastrophic.

There seemed to be no solution, and the Division of Medicaid was only days from being unable to pay medical providers.

The Democratic-controlled House wanted to increase the measly 18 cents per pack tax on cigarettes to address the deficit. The Senate aligned with Republican Gov. Haley Barbour, who had previously been a tobacco lobbyist, in opposing the cigarette tax increase. And to be honest, a cigarette tax increase on its own would not have generated enough revenue to solve the monumental Medicaid problem. Then, as now, most politicians considered a tax increase a nonstarter.

Seeing no solution, legislators left for the weekend on March 10. But before many of them got home, Barbour called them back in what was then a rare special session within the regular session.

In that special session, the securitization initially was viewed as both a smart business move and a way to solve the deficit.

Ultimately, instead of the securitization, legislators solved the deficit by making cuts to Medicaid and by withdrawing $240 million from the healthcare trust fund that was created with the tobacco lawsuit settlement funds.

The legislation included the caveat that the trust fund would be replenished.

That never happened. The trust fund no longer exists in any substantive manner.

Through a series of well researched stories and the “Black Box” podcast, Mississippi Today details how state and local politicians are starting to spend $430 million in opioid lawsuit settlement funds that the Mississippi will receive over many years.

Comparisons have been made to how the state has spent the tobacco lawsuit settlement money and how the state and local governments are currently spending the opioid lawsuit settlement funds. Both lawsuits were filed to obtain money from companies (tobacco and drug companies) for the harm they caused Mississippians.

The 1997 tobacco lawsuit settlement  guaranteed Mississippi $4 billion over 25 years with annual payments, based on a formula, continuing forever. The most recent annual payment is about $90 million.

In 1999, the Legislature voted to place the annual settlement funds in a trust fund and use the earnings for healthcare initiatives. But not too long after the trust fund was established, a perennially cash-strapped Legislature and governor began to dip into it to deal with budget shortfalls.

Solving the Medicaid deficit in 2005 culminated that effort.

Many believe the end of the trust fund was a lost opportunity for the state to use the massive lawsuit to make a difference in healthcare.

It is hard to argue that it was not. But it also would be hard to argue in 2005 in favor of essentially shutting down the Medicaid program that provides healthcare for low-income people: children, pregnant women, disabled people and some of the elderly population.

For a Legislature afraid of tax increases, few other options existed.

The Legislature and governor are still adverse to tax increases and spend much of their time cutting taxes. But the opioid settlement comes on the heels of the state experiencing unprecedented revenue growth, thanks to a number of circumstances related to a massive influx of federal pandemic relief money.

While that growth has slowed, Mississippi’s financial situation is not nearly as bleak as it was in 2005, giving state leaders the opportunity to use the opioid settlement money for the intended purpose – to fight drug addiction.

If they do that, perhaps people won’t be talking about another lost opportunity a generation from now.

When a lawmaker dies, a district loses more than an elected official. It loses an advocate who understood its communities, built relationships with over years of public service and often became the driving force behind issues that mattered to the people they represented. 

After the deaths of Reps. William “Bo” Brown and Price Wallace last month, fellow legislators say they plan to keep alive the causes each man championed — from criminal justice reform to restoring Mississippi’s ballot initiative process. Because every bill in the Mississippi Legislature must be reintroduced each session, proposals survive only if a lawmaker chooses to sponsor them. Colleagues of Brown and Wallace say they intend to do just that when they return in 2027. 

Carrying on unfinished work 

Although Brown and Wallace focused on different issues, colleagues say they plan to carry forward each man’s legislative priorities. 

Rep. Earle Banks, a Democrat from Jackson, said he plans to reintroduce criminal justice legislation Brown helped champion, including expanding parole eligibility for some incarcerated people. During the 2020 legislative session, Brown, a fellow Democrat who also was from Jackson, and Banks co-sponsored House Bill 361, which sought to broaden parole eligibility for people convicted of certain capital offenses. The bill died in committee. 

Banks said Brown viewed the proposal as one step toward addressing disparities in Mississippi’s criminal justice system. 

“There are too many people — Bo felt, and I feel, also — who are incarcerated, who are of no threat to society,” Banks said. 

On the Gulf Coast, Sen. Jeremy England, a Republican from Vancleave, said he plans to revive Wallace’s effort to restore Mississippi’s ballot initiative process. 

The process allowed citizens to place proposed constitutional amendments on the ballot after gathering enough signatures. In 2021, the Mississippi Supreme Court ruled it unconstitutionalbecause the state Constitution still referenced five congressional districts even though Mississippi has had four since 2001. 

Wallace, Republican from Mendenhall, sponsored legislation during the 2025 session to restore the process with additional restrictions. The bill passed the House but died before reaching the Senate floor. 

England said he expects to introduce similar legislation during the 2027 session, although he has acknowledged it still faces significant political hurdles. 

“Until we see someone else take that issue up and move it forward. I don’t know what that’s going to look like coming out of the House,” England said. “But with enough people asking for it, somebody’s going to look at it.” 

Different approaches, shared purpose 

While their priorities differed, colleagues said both elected leaders were driven more by conviction than recognition. 

Banks said Brown, as a representative and former city councilman for Jackson, devoted much of his legislative work to expanding economic opportunities for Black Mississippians while addressing inequities in the criminal justice system. 

“Most of the economic development (in the state) does not happen west of Interstate 55,” Banks said. “We need more economic development in Jackson and Hinds County and in the Second Congressional District so you have better jobs for people.” 

Banks said Brown rarely backed away from a debate and remained engaged throughout his last session. “He believed in what he believed in, and you weren’t going to convince him otherwise,” Banks said. “Once he would get something in his mind, that was what he was going to do.” 

During debate over an education bill in April — Brown’s last appearance in the House — he repeatedly stood to question the legislation despite worsening health. 

“His heart was still there, and his strength was still there to say, ‘Hey, I’m challenging this. I have questions about this and I’m not going to just sit here just arbitrarily vote for something,’” Banks said. 

England described Wallace as a straightforward lawmaker whose expertise made him one of the Legislature’s leading voices on agriculture. 

A poultry farmer, Wallace was the member colleagues turned to whenever farming legislation came before the House. 

“Price knew that business from the top to the bottom,” England said. Anytime those issues came up, he was ready to fight for the farmer in Mississippi.” England said Wallace also approached legislation collaboratively, often putting policy ahead of personal recognition. 

“He talked to me about his bill on the House side and the work that he had put in, and basically just offered to work with me,” England said. “Price was the kind of guy that it didn’t seem to matter whose name was on the bill. He just wanted to see something get done.” 

Whether either proposal becomes law remains uncertain.

England said restoring the ballot initiative process will likely require additional negotiations before it can gain enough legislative support. Banks said he expects to reintroduce Brown’s criminal justice proposals alongside other legislators who shared Brown’s commitment to the issue. 

Students in Canton public schools will be fed free meals come August. But for that to continue, district officials say, parents now need to verify their income — a requirement for a federal program that will help cover related costs.

On Wednesday, the district posted a statement on Facebook saying too few parents or guardians completed forms it needs to receive reimbursements to cover meal costs for all students through the Community Eligibility Provision, a federal program for schools and districts in low-income areas. The statement wasn’t entirely accurate.

That bureaucratic hurdle wasn’t necessary before, but Canton schools switched to Provision 2, a separate program that provides more funding if enough parents fill out forms to prove economic need. 

Under CEP, the Mississippi Department of Education and school districts calculate reimbursement amounts based mostly on student enrollment in income-based federal assistance programs like the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, or SNAP, and Temporary Assistance for Needy Families, also known as TANF. Enrollment data is shared for verification purposes between school districts, the Mississippi Department of Human Services, and MDE.

All students eat for free under CEP and Provision 2, but the federal government only reimburses a portion of the meals based on documented economic need. School district and state Education Department officials check rolls for federal programs like TANF to calculate the reimbursement amounts for CEP. With Provision 2, school district administrators and state education department officials verify need by reviewing parent forms. District officials generally choose the program that will offer more in reimbursements and cover more free meals for students.

In April, the state Education Department deemed Canton schools eligible for CEP funding for the upcoming academic year. But the formula, based on new federal programs enrollment data, would only cover 65% of students’ free meals for the upcoming school year, Beatty said. At that rate, she said, district officials decided it did not make financial sense to opt into CEP funding.

Beatty said fewer Canton families are enrolled in federal programs like TANF, which means the district gets reimbursed for fewer meals served to economically disadvantaged students under CEP. There may be fewer Canton public school families on federal financial assistance rolls because parents and guardians are earning more money after landing jobs at the Amazon fulfillment center and Nissan plant, which are major employers in Canton. 

Another issue may be that local families’ needs have not declined, but too few parents reenrolled in federal programs like TANF, Beatty said. Either way, the district now needs to verify families’ economic need to continue to be reimbursed for feeding students free meals at school under Provision 2. 

The overall number of Madison County residents receiving federal public assistance has declined. 

MDHS spokesperson Mark Jones said that 626 fewer people received SNAP in Madison County, where the county seat is Canton, between June 2025 and June 2026. A 2025 federal law narrowed SNAP eligibility for the program, adding work requirements for most high school-aged parents or guardians and excluding asylum seekers and refugees from receiving SNAP benefits. That change may help explain the participation drop.

Research from the Food Research and Action Center, a Washington, D.C., nonprofit that conducts research on federal child nutrition programs, found less than half of Mississippi school districts eligible for CEP participated.

School districts have to consider operating costs as well as the percentage of low income students to determine if they will be able to break even when providing universal free meals.

The amount of federal aid school districts received through CEP might not cover the costs of free meals for all students and related overhead, especially in light of recent increases in the costs of goods, labor and benefits, said Erin Hysom, a senior policy analyst on child nutrition at the center.

School district child nutrition directors, who oversee food service programs, have to ensure students have nutritious foods while keeping related operating expenses in the black, Hysom told Mississippi Today. “Essentially, they’re running a food business.”

Mississippi State quarterback Kamario Taylor has started two college games, but you’d never know that from listening to coaches and media pundits talk about his skill level and his potential as a difference maker in the Southeastern Conference.

All that praise, much of it at SEC Media Days this past week, may surprise many. It does not surprise me. These eyes first saw Taylor on Dec. 2, 2022, when he was a tall, skinny 15-year-old 10th grader at perennial high school powerhouse Noxubee County. Noxubee was playing Raleigh in a state championship game at The Rock in Hattiesburg. Anyone who saw that game surely hasn’t forgotten it – and likely never will.

Like most, I had entered the stadium gates anxious to see Raleigh’s Suntarine Perkins, the state’s top recruit, who had narrowed his college choices to Ole Miss and Alabama and was why both Lane Kiffin and Pete Golding watched the game from just beyond the north end zone. Perkins did not disappoint, but I left that day equally impressed with Taylor.

Raleigh won a 55-52 shootout. Noxubee couldn’t stop Perkins, who provided 331 yards and four touchdowns rushing, caught three passes for 56 yards, kicked off, led his team in tackles and made a game-saving fourth quarter interception.

But then Raleigh (and Perkins) could rarely stop Taylor, who threw for five touchdowns, displaying a strong arm and uncommon speed and elusiveness. He reminded me of watching Southern Miss legend Reggie Collier race up and down that same field and also of a young Steve McNair, from just up the road in Mount Olive. What I’ll remember most about watching Taylor at 15 was trying to interview him after the game. It was hopeless. He couldn’t stop sobbing long enough to talk. He was clearly heartbroken. That competitiveness – that will to win – will serve him well in the years to come.

One of the true joys of covering Mississippi high school football closely for more than six decades is trying to predict who the future greats will be. That day, I saw two. Perkins has become a difference maker for the Ole Miss defense. Taylor, now 19 and now a strapping 230-pounder, enters his sophomore season as State’s starting quarterback. He gives the Bulldogs, projected to finish 15th in a 16-team league, a fighting chance. That’s because he can make positive plays when none seem available, and he can make every throw a quarterback needs to make.

Don’t just take it from me. Archie Manning saw him up close and in person recently at the Manning Passing Academy in Thibodaux, Louisiana. I texted Manning during the camp to ask his impressions of Taylor. His one-word reply: “Stud.”

“Kamario is a real talent and a nice kid,” Manning said in a subsequent conversation. “He’s such a good-looking kid. He threw well, a really tight spiral, and he can make all the throws. He seems to have it all. We had 45 college starting quarterbacks as counselors. I thought he was one who really stood out. A lot of folks might be surprised that he and Trinidad (Chambliss) roomed together at our camp.”

You don’t have to just take it from Archie either. Listen to Nick Saban, speaking at SEC Media Days. Said Saban: “Kamario Taylor, who nobody’s really heard that much about at Mississippi State. This guy could be the truth and the light. He is really good”

My contention always has been that for Ole Miss or State to be really successful in the SEC, a superb athlete – a difference maker – at quarterback is essential. You aren’t always going to be able to block the guys on the other side of the ball. Sometimes, the quarterback has to escape them and make a play.

Chambliss was that for Ole Miss last year. Before him, Jaxson Dart was that. The last time Mississippi State had a winning record (6-2) in the SEC? That was 2014. Dak Prescott was the QB. 

Jeff Lebby knows what he has in Taylor and said so at SEC Media Days in Tampa. Speaking on ESPN, Lebby said of Taylor: “This guy is special, special. I don’t think he has a ceiling. The physical traits, incredible. Who the kid is, his consistency and the way he works, the way he prepares the way he retains – pretty elite.”

Taylor showed all that near the end of his freshman season when he came off the bench to score all three of State’s touchdowns against Georgia, played well in a brief appearance against Missouri and then made his first start in the Egg Bowl at Oxford. Remember? Despite a fierce Ole Miss pass rush, Taylor threw for 178 yards and ran for 173 more and State’s only two touchdowns in a 38-19 defeat. In a bowl loss to Wake Forest, he ran for 63 yards and a touchdown and threw for 241 and another touchdown.

Now, he goes into the season as the unquestioned starter with a year in a college strength and conditioning program and with some valuable experience against top-shelf competition. Taylor also has, says Lebby, a much improved offensive line to protect him.

He’ll need that to stay healthy. He’ll also need to avoid contact whenever possible, which he seems to understand better than anyone.

“My ultimate goal is to stay healthy for 13 games this season,” he told reporters in Tampa.

That would mean staying healthy for all 12 regular season games and then a bowl. And that would mean State would have a fighting chance in 13 games.

HAZLEHURST — Cyn’tra sat in the back of his third-grade reading class at Hazlehurst Elementary. A worksheet lay before him: blank. He seemed confused, looking around at classmates, who were writing responses, and at the teacher. The teacher repeated the questions and provided hints and tips. 

The 8-year-old was easily distracted. He gave up after slowly reading through the questions.

“He required extensive support,” wrote Vonnie Byrd, his assistant principal, after observing Cyn’tra in class. “He appeared confused and looked around the room.”

District contractors, officials and employees performed five similar observations, six behavioral, psychological and skill-based tests, a review of Cyn’tra’s developmental history and an interview with his guardian. They noted details such as his ADHD diagnosis, the type of medicine he takes and why. He also struggles to sound out words and make sense of them on the page. The documents detail how he is generally collegial with other students and behaves well. They also noted concerns such as a time when he threw a tantrum and his behavior escalated to the point where he was taken to the emergency room. 

Then Hazlehurst City School District officials dropped Cyn’tra from special education services. They gave no clear reason why.

The department’s decision was “devastating,” said Cynthia Catchings, Cyn’tra’s grandmother and guardian. 

The boy’s academic performance has dropped from B’s and C’s to D’s and F’s, she said.  

Catchings’ situation isn’t hers alone. Other Hazlehurst special education staff, parents of students with disabilities and advocates say the school district has not provided services required under federal law. They have filed more than a dozen pages of complaints with the Mississippi Department of Education and the Hazlehurst district’s central office in the last three years. 

Unresolved complaints and repeated violations of federal law are some reasons why the state might take over the district this school year. The agency also cited the district in December and March for operating a special education department that was unresponsive to parent concerns and lacked documentation of meeting students’ needs.

School board President Paul Rhodes declined to comment in light of pending litigation. 

District leadership has changed since the state education agency cited Hazlehurst schools for violating the rights of students with disabilities. Cloyd Garth, who was superintendent when the district was cited, did not respond to repeated requests for comment in regards to complaints from within the department during his tenure. He left his post on June 8, and school board members would not say whether he resigned or was fired. 

The district is also advertising for a new special education director. District officials did not respond to a request for comment on special education director Andrea Vasser’s employment status.

“I don’t know why they want him to fail,” Catchings said of the district cutting support services for Cyn’tra. “I don’t have any support from the school. They always say no child left behind, but we are both left behind: the parent and the child.”

Outcomes for students like Cyn’tra have reached a new low in Hazlehurst. The graduation rate for students with disabilities dropped from roughly 58% in 2023-24 to less than a third in 2024-25. 

State regulators note that dozens of students with disabilities aren’t getting required support

Under a new mandate from the U.S. Department of Education to provide written monitoring reports to districts, the state agency took additional steps to hold Hazlehurst public schools accountable for violating the civil rights of students with disabilities. In March, state officials notified Garth that investigators found poor oversight and no plans on how to help some students with disabilities.

The sheer volume of problems state investigators found with Hazlehurst schools’ special education department was alarming to Danita Munday, who worked in the state Department of Education’s special education monitoring division before departing.

“I think it would have been quicker to write a report about what they’re actually doing well because apparently it’s nothing,” Munday said.

Students with mild and severe disabilities missed out on services that made learning possible. Nearly a dozen student files were missing a learning plan all together. Without a learning plan, the state education officials can’t verify if those students are receiving required help in the classroom. 

State regulators found that school district officials greenlit learning plans for some special education students without involving parents and without regard to data, considering tests, and with no mention of student behavior.

When parents did request services or appealed department decisions, they sometimes waited for a response past federally mandated deadlines.

A student with failing eyesight and a partially deaf student lacked documented support services. Regulators also could not verify whether students with disabilities at the district alternative school got federally mandated support.

‘You’re just a teacher’ 

Three former Hazlehurst special educators, who worked in district classrooms, told Mississippi Today the dysfunction within the district’s department wasn’t limited to parent outreach and records management. They said the department’s leaders were more concerned with documenting services for students than offering them.

One former instructor said Vasser withheld full reports that analyze student eligibility for special education services. Without that information, it was more difficult to craft learning plans that fully accommodated the student’s disability. The instructor asked not to be named out of fear of retaliation from district leadership,

The educator said Garth threatened to fire them after they challenged the legality of a separate learning plan and sought guidance from the state Education Department. 

The learning plan was to have an elementary school student with a significant cognitive disability complete a packet of classwork each week at home alone in lieu of in-person instruction. The educator said they reminded Vasser the child’s family did not speak English

The educator also said Garth accused them of breaking the chain of command by calling the state Education Department.

“I’m not mad at (Vasser), but her rights end where mine begin. I nor my students will be mishandled,” the educator wrote in an April 2023 email to Vasser and Garth, which an educator gave Mississippi Today. “My concern is the response to my advocating for my students.”

Gardner Wooten left the Hazlehurst special education department in 2023. He said district leadership forced him to cancel meetings with parents of students with disabilities so he could substitute teach and proctor tests.

“Those students really got the short end of the stick,” he said. “I complained about it, too. They didn’t care. Their attitude there is that you’re just a teacher.”

‘This is not just a paperwork problem’

Two positions for special education teachers in Hazlehurst schools have not been filled since 2023.

Fewer staffers means existing special education teachers and officials have to manage larger caseloads. 

Catchings, Cyn’tra’s grandmother, said she knows the department is short staffed, but ending  special education services for her grandson will limit his future opportunities. She worries he will continue to fall behind.

Cyn’tra said he found it harder to focus after January, when he lost access to special services. The classroom sounded louder and the noises were distracting without the aid of a special education teacher to provide clear guidance for class assignments. He misses the teacher who would take him to a separate, quieter room to go over the classroom work.

“When I didn’t have her around, it would be way harder to read,” he said. “When we follow along with the story, I can read back to her.”

Teachers would better understand his behavior and be able to manage it without calling Catchings to intervene throughout the day, Catchings told Mississippi Today.

Without an individualized education plan, known as an IEP, teachers don’t know Cyn’tra needs questions read aloud and time to sound out words, Catchings said. His next teachers won’t know that he needs built-in breaks between tasks, a visual aid and extra time on tests.

Catchings has taken Cyn’tra to a nurse practitioner who can retest Cyn’tra for cognitive and psychiatric needs and recommend special education services for him. A separate psychologist had been waiting on Vasser to present the contract for his testing services to the Hazlehurst school board for reimbursement approval, according to Catchings.

It’s been six months.

“This is not just a paperwork problem,” said Munday, the former bureau director for special education policy “This is about a district using flawed processes to push a child out of special education, with no soft place to land.”

Correction 7/24/26: This story has been updated to reflect the correct titles of the healthcare professionals who have worked with Cynthia Catchings and her grandson.

Mississippi Today Ideas is a platform for thoughtful Mississippians to share their ideas about our state’s past, present and future. Opinions expressed in guest essays are the author’s own and do not necessarily represent those of Mississippi Today. You can read more about the section here..  

My kids love Olive Garden – a lot.

With an Italian last name like Barranco, I’ll admit I’m slightly embarrassed by how much they love what may be the most generic Italian restaurant in the country. But I keep that to myself and indulge them.

Every time we go, I’m reminded of a question I like to ask my students:

Why can’t we eat spaghetti with our hands?

Sure, it’s fine for a toddler.

But an adult?

Definitely not.

Seriously, though – why not?

It can’t just be because it’s messy. Pulled pork sandwiches and sloppy joes are messy too. Restaurants even hand you wet wipes because they know it.

So why is one acceptable and the other isn’t?

Most people answer the same way:

“Because… we just don’t.”

That’s true.

But have you ever stopped to wonder why we “just don’t?”

Probably not.

Most of us don’t spend much time thinking about the unwritten rules we follow every day.

We step onto an elevator and turn to face the door – only weirdos face the wall. When we’re ready to check out at the grocery store, we get in line. There’s no law requiring it. There isn’t a sign telling us where to stand.

We simply know.

The examples are everywhere.

We shake hands.

We leave personal space when talking to strangers.

We whisper in libraries.

We don’t wear pajamas to funerals.

We say “bless you” when someone sneezes.

I could keep going.

The point is that much of our day is spent following unwritten rules we hardly notice.

Sociologists call these social norms – the shared expectations that tell us how we’re supposed to behave and, just as importantly, how we’re not.

So what happens if we ignore them?

If you eat spaghetti with your hands at Olive Garden, no one is going to call the police.

But you’ll almost certainly get some strange looks.

If a student came to my class in a bathing suit, I wouldn’t throw them out.

But I’d probably wonder whether something unusual was going on.

So would everyone else.

Sometimes the consequences are stronger. People may avoid us, stop trusting us or quietly leave us out.

The fascinating part isn’t what the rules are.

It’s where they came from.

Who decided spaghetti required a fork?

Who decided we should face the elevator door?

Some norms began for practical or historical reasons. Others seem almost arbitrary. Over time, though, they become part of what we think of as “normal,” so we stop questioning them altogether. Most of us inherited them without ever being told where they came from.

We simply absorbed them by watching the people around us.

And that matters.

These unwritten rules are what make society possible.

Imagine a grocery store where nobody knew how to check out.

No lines.

Everyone walks to the register whenever they feel like it.

Every customer has a different idea of how it should work.

It would be chaos.

Social norms save us from negotiating every interaction from scratch. They make everyday life predictable. They allow millions of strangers to cooperate without ever meeting one another.

But that’s not the whole story.

The very thing that makes norms so useful also makes them dangerous.

A rule powerful enough to keep us all in line is powerful enough to keep the wrong things in line, too.

The same force that stops us from eating spaghetti with our hands can also preserve prejudice, discrimination, unhealthy traditions, wasteful customs and harmful silence.

The norm of “minding your own business” may keep someone from stepping in when another person needs help. A workplace norm against questioning the boss may keep people quiet when they see a bad decision being made.

Not every unwritten rule deserves to survive simply because it feels normal.

That’s why one of the most important questions we can ask is also one of the simplest:

Why do we do it this way?

Sometimes the answer is that the norm helps people cooperate and makes society run more smoothly.

Sometimes the answer is nothing more than, “Because that’s the way we’ve always done it.”

Knowing the difference may be the most important unwritten rule of all.

After all, some rules simply help us eat dinner.

Others help determine the kind of society we become.

Raymond E. Barranco is a professor of sociology at Mississippi State University. His writing uses everyday experiences and social science to help readers better understand society and one another. He can be reached at rbarranco@soc.msstate.edu. 

A string of bad luck led Caroline Crowley to the Jackson Free Clinic. 

First, a flood damaged the former special education teacher’s apartment and forced her to move out. Then came transportation and health problems that made it difficult for her to return to work.

Standing outside the health center’s white building on a hot July morning, Crowley said the student-run nonprofit clinic, which provides medical, dental, mental health and specialty care to patients without health insurance at no cost, has done more than help her manage her health.

“If I had not gone through it, I wouldn’t have been able to come here to meet a lot of students, pouring into them, them pouring into me,” Crowley said. “I’ve met a lot of beautiful people. So it really has been character building for me. It has been healing for me.”

The clinic, which operates on Saturdays with the support of 50 to 60 volunteers each week, provided nearly 3,000 patient visits in 2025 — the highest number in the past five years, according to its 2025 annual report. 

Jackson Free Clinic’s record number of patient visits comes as free and charitable clinics across the country face growing demand. For over two decades, the clinic has provided care to patients and expanded to meet their needs, adding a range of specialty healthcare options, a Spanish clinic and social services support. It is one of the free clinics across the state that provide care to the growing number of Mississippians struggling to afford health insurance. The organization is funded primarily through grants and donations, totaling over $470,000 last year.

Khaylah Scott is a program manager for the Mississippi Health Advocacy Program, which operates a free helpline to assist callers in navigating health insurance options. This year, after federal health care subsidies that made health insurance more affordable for many Mississippians expired, Scott said her organization received more calls from people who could not afford their health insurance premiums. As a result, helpline staff have referred more patients to free and charitable clinics than in past years.

The 1,400 clinics affiliated with the National Association of Free and Charitable Clinics provided 8.2 million patient visits in 2025, up from 6 million the year before, according to a recent report from the association. More than half of the patients were employed, showing that many people seeking low-cost care are working but still unable to afford healthcare. 

“Many people are used to hearing about hospital emergency rooms or federally qualified health centers or rural health centers,” said Nicole Lamoreaux, president and CEO of the national association. 

“Those are critical components of America’s healthcare safety net. But we serve the people who fall through all of those cracks.”

A broader mission

The clinic opened in 2002 from a local church as the Jackson Free Clinic for the Homeless to provide medical care to patients experiencing homelessness. But founder Dr. Joyce Olutade, who at the time was an assistant professor at the University of Mississippi Medical Center, quickly realized that many people who needed medical services had housing and jobs but could not afford the cost of care. 

The clinic changed its name in 2004 to reflect its broadening mission. Twenty years later, clinic volunteers said patients face many of the same challenges. 

“A lot of patients that we see have jobs that don’t offer insurance or their insurance is too expensive,” said Natasha Burrell, a fourth-year medical student at UMMC and the chief outreach officer for the clinic. 

The clinic moved into its current building in west Jackson in 2004. According to Burrell, the owner of a neighboring trophy shop left his building to the organization in his will. That space was converted into a dental clinic, which opened in 2021. A new building that will house specialty services like psychiatry, gynecology and physical therapy was finished this summer and is expected to open later this year. 

Julie Darnell, a public health professor at Loyola University Chicago, has studied the role free clinics play in communities. In her work surveying free clinics between 2010 and 2015, she found that free clinics were expanding their services to meet more of patients’ needs. 

“Free clinics are gap fillers,” she said. “They’ve been really astute in being able to identify what those gaps are and then partially fill them.”

To serve patients that speak Spanish, the Jackson Free Clinic operates a Hispanic clinic every other month. Nancy Duarte-Sanchez, the language clinic’s co-director and a third-year medical student, said she has treated patients whose chronic health conditions went undiagnosed for years because they hadn’t been seeing a doctor regularly. She said she tries to establish trust in the healthcare system by explaining treatment options to people in their native language. 

“Having somebody who understands you, that you can communicate (with) directly, who speaks in your same language, that just takes away this extra barrier on top of the ones that they already face,” Duarte-Sanchez said. 

Beyond providing medical services, the Jackson Free Clinic also works to provide patients with healthcare and hygiene supplies. The clinic keeps a well-stocked closet filled with glucose strips, blood pressure cuffs, medications to reverse opioid overdoses and hygiene products like soap and menstruation products. Volunteers added nail clippers and chapstick after patients requested them. 

Volunteers handle all of the clinic’s day-to-day operations, from cleaning the building to answering voicemails to mowing the lawn, Burrell said.

One longtime patient, Isabelle Smith, began going to the Jackson Free Clinic after a workplace injury and subsequent back surgery six years ago left her unable to work. Out of work and with her application for disability benefits pending, Smith has gone without health insurance for years and had no other way to access treatment for her chronic conditions.

One aspect of the clinic Isabelle Smith appreciates most is that transportation is provided, she told Mississippi Today. At 62, she lives alone and doesn’t own a car after her previous one started breaking down and she sold it for parts. But Smith can still get to the clinic for quarterly checkups through a partnership with the New Jersey-based nonprofit Sostento, which pays for ridesharing services for patients who can’t drive themselves.

With her daughter and grandchildren living in Texas, the clinic volunteers have started to feel like family, Smith said, adding that they treat her better than most doctors she’s interacted with. 

“I tell them all the time, ‘I love y’all,’” she said. “Because if it wasn’t for you, all this trial I’ve been going through with my health, I wouldn’t have made it.”

PEARL – Mississippi Christian University golfer Sydney Moss has added the 2026 Mississippi Women’s Amateur championship at Patrick Farms Golf Club to her growing list of accomplishments.

Moss, a Shreveport native and daughter of former LSU All American and PGA Tour player Perry Moss, had previously won two Louisiana junior championships and one Louisiana State Women’s Amateur title.

Jackson State golfer Maddy Beeching, who lives in Ridgeland but is a native of Camberly, England, shot a final round 71 to tie Moss for first place the 54-hole tournament. Moss won the playoff with a par on the fourth extra hole to claim the title. Harper Hinkley of Summitt and Mississippi State also shot a final round 71 and finished third, two strokes back. 

Moss held a two-shot lead entering the final round in which she shot 73. She and Beeching shot even par for the tournament.

Moss began her college career at the University of Memphis, before transferring to Stephen F. Austin and then to Mississippi Christian University where she was All-Gulf South Conference as a junior this spring.

Lee Burke of Madison won the 36-hole senior division, shooting 73-73 to edge 12-time State Amateur winner Cissye Gallagher of Greenwood by a single shot. Betty Lou Sutherland of Madison won the Grand Lady division (age 70 and over), shooting 70-71 to best runner-up Marsha Stewart of Pearl, who shot 71-74.