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As a child, I thought the Confederate flag was cool. I didn’t know it meant anything. On my first day at boarding school at 13, I showed my Georgia pride, hanging it on my wall until an African-American classmate tore it down, calling me a cracker. Then I knew.
My first day as a reporter, I covered a Mississippi Ku Klux Klan rally, saw families waving them, using the n-word, spewing hate.
I had hope when South Carolina’s governor lowered theirs. I think it’s time Georgia lowered ours at Stone Mountain.
That flag does mean something. And it’s not cool.