It was at one of those giant, Deep South, after church luncheons where my education truly began.Training in the ways of casseroles, deviled eggs, buttermilk-battered chicken, and enough peach cobbler to fill a pachyderm? No. The menu and culture we’re all too familiar, as I’ve never lived anywhere north of Georgia. It was the dessert conversation that opened my eyes.At the time I had two sons, both adopted, no older than preschool. One was white and the […] » Read More
America’s original sin still lingers

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