by Ken Feltman
An elderly black woman stood for hours in the hot sun and the long line, moving slowly, waiting to vote. A white man approached with a camera and crew. He was from a station that still supported apartheid. Spotting the old women, obviously uncomfortable in the oppressive heat, he thrust a microphone into her face and demanded to know what she would gain by sweating for hours in the blazing sun.
She answered in a sure voice: “My dignity.”
She and all the others who waited through the intimidation and heat of that day were standing not just for their dignity, but for ours, too.