When I was 10 years old, my family met Congressman John Lewis, a giant for social justice; it’s the only time I remember seeing my dad tear up. My typically composed father practically threw himself at the congressman, telling him how honored he was to meet him and how thrilled he was that his daughters could, too.
A few years later, my teacher assigned a project: choose an autobiography, write a paper, and present to the class as our chosen figure. I figured I’d choose an athlete, but when I mentioned the project at home, Dad told me I had no choice in the matter. It had to be John Lewis... Read More