Memorial Day weekend is in full swing and Brooklyn has you covered if you are looking to be around some beautiful black culture. If you still don't have any plans check out some of these events where the melanin will definitely be on fleek.
In a sense, Memorial Day weekend should usher this country into the griever's world: The every day reality of grief. Memorial Day should (or could) be a time when the whole nation bows its collective head to its collective heart, and says: Ow. Ow. OW. This hurts.
Among those who did return and the family members of all who served, I see too much addiction and pain. That personal human suffering is an unacceptable legacy to those who died in service to their nation.
My father's World War II generation gave a lot and suffered a lot. But our country did right by them when they came home. They were able to go to college and find jobs. They led pleasant lives and watched their children grow up in peace.
It used to be that the words Memorial Day brought with them a lightness that came with the beginning of summer and the promise of long salty days at the beach. It used to be that the words Gold Star Families meant nothing to me.
Start with a joke -- something like: "I know you'd probably prefer to be in the Hamptons." But don't antagonize the 12 people in the audience by adding: "... but couldn't afford it." The bartender won't give you a free drink.
I have never had doubts about the courage of the young men and women we sent overseas wearing the uniform. I have never had doubts about the pain caused to those in the military as they lay dying in foreign fields.
War -- conflict resolution by violence. Memorial Day -- a day to remember those killed in wars. More than remembering, Memorial Day is reality for me. That reality began in 2003 and was amplified in 2013.
If you are tired, let someone else do some driving. Respect your exhaustion. Never risk the safety of yourselves and those around you to try to get to your vacation spot a little earlier. It's just not worth the risk.