Very few times does one witness a tragedy that hits home. On June 17, 2015, I remember looking at my phone and seeing that a shooting had occurred in Charleston, South Carolina. I then came to find that it occurred in a historically black church, the Emanuel AME Church, and that nine black church goers were slaughtered as they prayed. The culprit behind the massacre was a white supremacist by the name of Dylann Roof; he had come to the church with the intent of starting a race war. We’ve seen schools, businesses, and restaurants being shot up, but not a church. It’s been a year since that day and the pain has not let up. Families were shattered and the nation was further divided. Yet one has to look very deeply into the symbolic significance as to why this man did what he did.
Roof killed six women and three men; one of which was a recently graduated college student. Another was state senator Clementa Pinckney. Pinckney was the pastor at the church while the shooting occurred. The reaction to the shooting was almost immediate. There were comments of anger, of grief, of revenge, and of defeat. It seemed like the pain just wouldn’t stop, especially in Charleston. Two months before, Walter Scott was shot and killed by a police officer and now there are nine people dead inside of a church. My generation had seen hate crimes before but not like this. It was the first time that a hate crime of this magnitude to be broadcast on social media.
What deepens the wound even more is the media response behind it. Some outlets saw this on a war on religion, others saw it as a matter of gun control policy. Only after his motives were revealed, did the news acknowledge this as a hate crime. The killer was talked about, but not the people. No one talked about how they had friends, families, lives; they had names too, but were just the collective title of “The Charleston Nine”. Roof was not designated as a terrorist after the massacre. He has yet to even be called the confirmed shooter by the media.
But the one thing that is so potently painful is the location in which the shooting occurred. A church, a place meant for meditation, comfort, and peace. That was a part of the message Roof was trying to convey; that not even in the presence of God were black people safe. People don’t understand how heartbreaking that thought is. That he wanted them to feel helpless along with being afraid. We, however, should find some solace that they have not been forgotten.
It’s been a year since that grim day and the wounds across black America have not yet healed; they most likely never will. Roof is still on trial for a crime we know he committed, and they debate has shifted to a redundant discussion on gun control. But on this day we should remember the names of those who were taken by hate: Clementa C. Pinckney, Susie Jackson, Depayne Middleton-Doctor, Ethel Lee Lance, Daniel Simmons, Myra Thompson, Sharonda Coleman-Singleto, Tywanza Sanders, and Cynthia Marie Graham Hurd. Rest peacefully.
