While leaving a hotel located on the Mescalero Apache reservation in New Mexico, the doorman mentions a blind man needing a lift across town.
Riding my bicycle beneath the canopy of low-hanging live oak trees of a quiet side street, a pair of small objects to my left redirect a flash of light into my sunglasses.
Growing up as a kid, the spotting of red kettles on street corners and hearing the sound of hypnotic bell ringing was as much a symbol of the arrival of the Christmas season as Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.
But isn’t that the point of the flag burner? Isn’t the action of the intentional destruction of a deeply shared symbol designed to provoke a powerful reaction in others? Does the burning of the flag, an emotionally terrifying as it is to some, make the action a perfect tool to motivate and inspire discussion?
Often in life we preoccupy ourselves with the intent of avoiding failure at all costs — as if doing so will guarantee our personal growth and success in life. And then I remember a small dead bush.
Elie Wiesel, Nobel Peace Prize winner and Holocaust survivor, died within a week of when the ugliest chapters in modern American race relations broke out — leaving five Dallas police officers dead — and proving as a society, we have yet to learn from the painful lessons of our past.