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As I watched from my iPad the unanimous vote to officially name the city annex after Chuck Beatty, I smiled. Two minutes later, I cried. My cell phone rang, and it was Chuck. He was happy but hurt and I could hear it in his voice.

In America, I’ve often wondered why it is so hard to recognize black achievement. In Waxahachie, I’ve seen the same struggle. Trust me, I’m not playing the race card. I’ve been reading the menu of Waxahachie for a long time. I’m a critical lover of my hometown because I still believe Waxahachie can be a true example of reconciliation.

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