Out of the Mouths of Babes….

I am old enough to remember Selma and the dogs. I lived close to Watts during the riots and I remember my parents wondering aloud if they should put the kids in the cars to go back to Nebraska. I remember the assassinations of the 60s and the ‘long, hot summer’ of 1968. I did not think I would live long enough to see a member of any minority elected president, and I haven’t yet, but it’s a possibility at the time of this writing. I thought I’d see married priests, and a woman president before I’d see a black man with a chance to do more than visit the White House. This race has not been about race, and I am thankful for that, more thankful than I can say. Perhaps what I am most thankful for is the argument I heard two seventh grade boys having about the election just this morning after I voted and came to work. Now students that age typically just repeat what they hear at home about almost any issue, and what these two boys were arguing about was tax policies, not race, and if that’s what they are hearing at home our country has moved a fair distance from when I was their age.

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About Edward

Dishwasher, bartender, cook, house painter, movie usher, Marine helicopter pilot, teacher, administrator, teacher again, retired teacher, Secular Franciscan, Lay Ecclesial Minister- it's been an interesting ride.
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