Ok white America, where is your outrage? This most recent race driven massacre has nothing to do with the police. You can not Google search for the fallen’s arrest records by way of defending violence done to them. There is no room for quips. There is no argument. These were unarguably 9 beautiful souls. 9 leaders in their communities. 9 people who had, and having been given a chance, would continue to make huge ripples of change in our world.
The fatherless sons you turn your nose up at for having fallen in with the wrong crowd could have been mentored by Tywanza Sanders. He was a young man, a beacon for what being a black man from the south can look like if you follow God.
Sharonda Coleman-Singleton was a mentor, a high school track coach, a reverend and, a mother of three.
Rev. Clementa Pinckney was a South Carolinian senator.
Cynthia Hurd was a librarian and managed the St Andrews public library. She was the matriarch of her family.
Myra Thompson was a vicar’s wife and very active in the Anglican Church. She had been teaching bible study at the “Mother”.
Ethel Lee Lance was a grandmother who had worked in the the church for 30 years.
Daniel Simmons was a member of the ministerial staff and a grandfather.
Depayne Middleton-Doctor was a reverend at the church sand in the choir and had 4 daughters she worked as an admissions coordinator at Southern Wesleyan University, but spent the majority of her adult career as the director of community for development block grant program.
Susie Jackson was a matriarch of both her family and her church. She was a trustee of “Mother” Emanuel and had been a member of their choir.
They were slain in God’s house where we should all feel the most safe. I will not honor the waste of biological material who committed these acts by repeating his “reasons” for this abhorrent act of violence. I will say, do you believe us now? Racism is alive and well in our country. Hate by US for THEM. It runs through our American veins.
It makes me sick. It makes me feel broken. It makes me feel so so sorry. So yes, I will call you love when I hand you your cup of coffee. I will do this so you know I do not fear you. I love you as my neighbor as I have been instructed to do. I call you love so you will see that the color of my skin does not determine my view of the world. I call you love, in the hopes that you will feel this safe place to fall, if only for a minute, in a day that must feel full of barbs and razor wire. I call you love in an attempt to make the ripples that were fostered by the 9 big lives stolen in Charleton.
Go now in peace may the love of God surround you everywhere you may go.