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social work In The News
The sole candidate to lead the Nevada System of Higher Education outlined his top four goals if he is chosen as chancellor, with improving access to higher learning No. 1 on the list.
“We really have to figure out how we make higher education more accessible to more individuals in Nevada,” Thom Reilly told about 45 people at a candidate forum at UNLV on Thursday morning. “We really have to figure out ways in order to, regardless of background, regardless of circumstances … engage them and get them in the system.”
“My father could no longer handle me. It was like his parenting skills were ‘I’m going to beat his head in’ or ‘I’m just going to leave him at home by himself,’ ” said Richard Demarko Brown, painting a picture of his 17-year-old case file.
When Lois (not her real name) moved here from California, she expected to get a therapist’s license with no problem. After all, she had a master’s degree in marriage family therapy (MFT) and art therapy.
Nevada’s senior citizens’ health and quality of life were again ranked among the lowest nationally in a UnitedHealthcare report released last week, placing 42nd — a single spot above the state’s 2015 ranking.
Margie Toves, 25, always knew she wanted to work with children and families.
When she arrived in Nevada from Guam at the age of 18, Toves pursued a psychology degree at Nevada State College, but she soon fell in love with social work.
Last year, 124 people died in vehicle crashes in Metro Police jurisdiction. One young woman could have shared the same fate after a crash in 2013, but instead, she's a success story.
One by one, they entered a UNLV auditorium, escaping the chilly December air. They had come to discuss the mental health of Southern Nevada’s children.
Most stories that spotlight the foster care system are focused on the heinous crimes that foster parents commit or on the imperfect system itself, but northwest Las Vegas resident Judy Tudor has a different story to share.
Just before her two children arrive home on a September evening, Colleen McKenna sinks into her couch, seemingly ready to relax in yoga pants. But the three-inch binder, stuffed to the gills, sitting on her lap belies the scene.