<h3>By Cherimie Crane Weatherford</h3>
Most of my adult life has been fashioned around uninhibited speech and the predictable cringe from words best left unsaid. Defect or disorder, it is my curse, my signature and at my best, my charm. Having business interest, family obligations and the prerequisite to blend amongst what is currently accepted as civilization, my passionate opinion often suffocates underneath a societal blanket of belief. Occasionally whether it is wine, caffeine or exhaustion in its purest form, the restraints break free and unfiltered thought rages into words. More often than not, those words become new cause for me to avoid public encounter.

Clearly, speaking of politics, religion or true hair color is Taboo in my beloved South. Having had undesirable circumstance arrive from each, it behooves me to reserve discourse for socially welcomed subject matter. Unfortunately, behooving does little for my dogmatic disposition. I prefer to dodge disapproving glares rather than curtsy to the status quo.

Our town has been the latest aim of political convergence. Our salty breeze, our tempered trees nor our gentile manner is able to stave off that which divides even the most common denominator. Men and women claiming commonalty, passion and cause speak in twisted tongue to an audience in search of a skilled captain to navigate pending storms. Crowds divide according to degree of assimilation to a suit filled with an immeasurable desire for power and affirmation.

Underneath the ceremonial chaos, the posturing and the playground popularity competition lays a country battered and bruised by those that claim its privilege. Seemingly our principles lost our focus dim. Fear of discrimination, fear of defeat and fear of offending outcries the fear of those fallen. History is only allowed in modern day snippets on social media that has replaced social morality. Those begging for votes are but a reflection of those voting. They represent anger, self-righteousness, entitlement and an astonishing disconnect with the plight of our founding fathers. Our country needs our countrymen, those that wake with intent to contribute, to improve and to advocate not those that flourish from self-promotion and mirrored acceptance. A hero will not be found on a podium.

The answer is not in those shouting their glory, their superiority or their net worth. No one man or one woman can save a country that has lost its way. No wall can keep out nor keep in the soul of a population. No law can create nor contain morality. The answer rests in our history, in our perseverance, in our rise from the ashes of unseen battles. One man, one woman a country does not make. A return to basics, a return to pride and a return to the people is but my better unsaid opinion for a remedy to an unwell champion facing a ferocious battle to reclaim her title.