The triumph of love over hate: Remembering the victims in Charleston |
Sen. Angus King
(I-Maine)
On June 17th, America suffered a terrible tragedy – nine kind, decent, and devout Americans were taken from us while attending a bible study at the Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina. They were religious leaders, parents, grandparents, daughters, and sons. While we cannot understand this tragic event, we will not soon forget it.
As we struggle to confront this senseless act of violence, we have drawn strength from one another by coming together – as communities, as states, and, most importantly, as one nation – because it’s only in that way, through unity, understanding, and love, that we are able to honor and remember the victims in the way that they deserve. By embracing these core values, we can transcend the hate perpetrated on that terrible day to cultivate a safer community and a stronger America.
That’s exactly what the Portland community — and really, the State of Maine – has done. In the wake of the shooting, the Maine Chapter of the NAACP organized a far-reaching vigil to honor and remember the victims during a memorial at Merrill Auditorium – and by all accounts, it was a moving and beautiful tribute to those nine: State Senator and Reverend Clementa Pinckney; Tywanza Sanders; Cynthia Hurd; Sharonda Coleman-Singleton; Reverend Daniel Simmons; Reverend DePayne Middleton-Doctor; Susan Jackson; Ethel Lance; Myra Thompson.
Those of us who believe in a fair and just society have a responsibility to name hate when we see it. Unfortunately, fear of those different from us — because of their religion, the color of their skin, the way they dress, or some other “differentness” — is not in any way unusual, but all too often, hate is the next awful step.
The events of last week demonstrate, once again, that racism isn’t some radical ideology of the past, but that it continues today — at times openly. We, as a nation, have an obligation to confront it. Indeed, it is incumbent upon us to acknowledge its place in our history, to learn from it, and to find ways to rise above it in order to address the effects of systemic racism on a national level.
I hope that that’s a discussion that we will have in this country. I hope that, while we come together for moments of sadness and reflection, that we also come together for moments of action. We all have the power to make America a better place – to replace prejudice with understanding, and replace hate with love. Let us continue to work towards that noble goal.
In closing, here are some thoughts from the poet Mary Elizabeth Frye reminding us that death is not always the end: Do not stand at my grave and weep, / I am not there. I do not sleep. / I am a thousand winds that blow, / I am the diamond glints on snow, / I am the sun on ripened grain, / I am the gentle autumn rain. / When you awaken in the morning’s hush / I am the swift uplifting rush / Of quiet birds in circling flight. / I am the soft star-shine at night. / Do not stand at my grave and cry, / I am not there. I did not die.