Unearthing the Roots of Racial Inequity in America

I was born under the skylights of the third-floor operating room in the old, red brick Dr. John Warner Hospital three doors east of the house that would be my home for the next eighteen years. By late May, the towering ancient apple tree in our backyard would be peppered with white blossoms and the lilacs alongside the garage would fill the air with their unmistakable fragrance. The giant weeping willow, the one behind the garage, the one I climbed so often in my boyhood, would be shaggy beneath its fuzzy coat of catkin flowers, not as flashy to mere human eyes as the lilacs and apple blossoms, but a feast for the bees. May can be a lovely month in central Illinois. <a href="https://medium.com/@regie.stites/born-on-white-street-e3784495e425">Read More</a>