Wanting to slap Governor Pat McCrory. Fearing uterus enslavement. Feeling insulted about the government offering cookies to compensate for taking away your rights.
These are things I never thought I’d be angry about when I covered the Democratic National Convention in my home city of Charlotte, North Carolina in 2012. As we approach the one-year mark on that week, I tell you why that time was so important to me and my fellow progressive Charlotteans in my latest Huffington Post blog.
And how we, if ever, can get that feeling back.
Advertisements
