Some thoughts on Charlestown
I’m certain you’ve heard the news by now. Nine Black people were murdered last night at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal (AME) church in Charleston, South Carolina. The gunman, a White man, reportedly attended Bible study and prayed with his victims before launching into a tirade about how Black people are “taking over the country” and “raping white women.” He opened fire on the congregants, killing most of those in attendance, including the Rev. Senator Clementa Pinckney.
I’ve mostly been glued to the coverage of this event over the past 18 hours, both via social media and cable news. I fell asleep for a short while last night knowing that yet another horrendous, racially-motivated act had been carried out against my people in the land that I call “home”. And then I awakened, immediately remembering the pain and frustration of the night before. I can’t describe the extraordinary sadness, bewilderment and…
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