Growing up, the dinner table was sacrosanct. Whether red beans and rice Mondays or chipped beef Sundays, we gathered for meals and conversation.
There were rules: collared shirt, shoes and no hair rollers. Our round table typically was filled with friends, and even today, people recount stories of the Meric dining room. As a mom, I tried to emulate this practice and hope my sons are doing the same with their families.
Think what society would be like if we sat down and shared our stories, discussed our differences and respected others’ opinions – one bowl of gumbo at a time.