We know that hard work and good grades don’t always guarantee upward mobility and the American Dream. But surely valedictorians do well in life, right? Sort of—if you went to a suburban high school. But if you graduated top of your class at a Boston public school, most likely things didn’t pan out.

Tommy Tomlinson weighs 460 pounds. He writes, “I’m the biggest human being most people who know me have ever met, or ever will.” Tommy gets scared riding the subway, fearing a sudden jolt will cause him to fall on top of another passenger. He arrives at restaurants early so he can scope out seats that will handle his weight. The veins in his legs can’t push blood back to his heart. Now 50 years old, Tommy has never learned to swim or hiked a mountain. “I’ve missed out on so many adventures, so many good times, because I was too fat to try.”

When I featured “79” as one of last year’s best three articles (see Issue #173), naturally I wanted to speak to author Brian Broome. He graciously accepted the invitation, and I’m honored to present our conversation to you, loyal Highlighter Podcast listeners!

I get to work with teachers, which makes me happy, and a few weeks ago, one of my colleagues, who is in her mid-20s, told me something that got me thinking. She said, “I know how to work hard. That’s not the problem. It’s just that I don’t want to work hard all the time.” That sentiment is at the heart of today’s lead article, “How Millennials Became the Burnout Generation.” I can’t wait until you read it. It’ll get you to think, no matter which generation you claim.

This week’s newsletter features articles, podcast episodes, and photo essays on a variety of subjects, including the child-welfare system in Florida, an upstart charter school in New York, the reading gap in Chicago, and an exploration of what home means. If you have time for just one article, please read “The End of Forever,” which tells the story of a boy who never had a home, who “never had parents at all.”

Want to begin this new year with your heart open? This beautiful set of 17 photo essays — exploring the theme of home — will point you in the right direction. You’ll meet families separated at the border, juvenile offenders, California firefighters, Alzheimer’s patients, women vying for a room in Oakland, and formerly homeless men moving into the Minna Lee Hotel in San Francisco. You’ll also peruse beloved keepsakes, home-cooked meals, and the eight homes of a 13-year-old foster kid. Click around, choose your own adventure, and enjoy the audio clips that complement many of the images.

Today’s issue marks the end of the third year of The Highlighter. We’ve built a robust community of 500+ avid readers who care deeply about race, education, and culture. Thank you for your readership, whether this is your first issue or if you started with Issue #1. (Note: Please don’t look at Issue #1. 😬)

This year’s 50 issues featured more than 200 excellent articles on important topics by talented writers. How to choose the best ones? You know it’s a tough contest when Jia Tolentino, Michael Hobbes, Sara Mosle, and Roxane Gay don’t make it past the semifinals.

There was no magic to my process — except for tons of open browser tabs, various scribbles in my composition notebook, and many hours of re-reading and rumination. In the end, I’m really happy with the three winners. Please enjoy them! If you’re moved, kindly hit reply and share with me your thoughts.

Two years ago, in the middle of the night, in a small town in West Virginia, R.J. Williams, a 23-year-old Black man — drunk and suffering from anxiety, upset he couldn’t see his son — told his ex-girlfriend he was going outside to threaten the police with an unloaded gun, hoping they’d kill him.

Tragically, Mr. Williams’s wish came true. The Weirton police shot and killed him. But the first officer on the scene, Stephen Mader, a white man, a former Marine trained in de-escalation, chose not to fire his weapon, even after Mr. Williams refused to drop his gun. This is the story of what happens to a police officer who makes a decision not to kill.