The day we left for Iceland, nine congregants at Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina, were murdered by a young white man, motivated by hatred and racism. Guion read the news to me while we were picking up our rental car in Reykjavik, and we were stunned and appalled.
Upon returning home, this tragedy loomed over my thoughts and continues to do so. I cannot say anything that even remotely compares with President Obama’s beautiful eulogy, which brought me to tears, or with the many other thoughtful and important essays and articles that have been published since the shooting, but I felt like I had to write something, in my small way.
The essential thing is this: As white people, it is easy to feel separate from this incident and to write off the killer as a solo actor who does not represent us. But I would challenge us white Americans to dwell in complicity. Meditate on what it might mean for us to carry this burden, to acknowledge this cowardly young man as a product of the environment we have fed and fostered. Don’t fetishize black forgiveness; don’t feel like we, as white people, are off the hook because of the unbelievable grace of this congregation. Don’t pretend like this was an isolated and surprising incident, coming out of some shocking, hidden wellspring of racial hatred. We know where such bigoted hate comes from. We knew it was coming. We started it; we brought it here.
Racism is an impossibly vast monster. But I’d like to posit that without doing some magical collective thinking — and communal acknowledgment that we, as American whites, are as guilty as the depraved murderer — we will make no headway in fighting that monster.
As a white woman born and raised in the South, I want to be daily aware of my complicity in the heartbreaking racism that plagues my fellow white people. I want to acknowledge the racism that unfortunately takes residence in my own heart. Without such humility and admission of our collective guilt, will we ever come to repentance?
God have mercy on us. We do not deserve it.
Little Stories 
I think this is incredibly poignant, and I completely agree. Thank you for posting this.
Wow, I appreciate your honesty. These are definitely trying times we live in. I just hope it doesn’t spawn more hate and animosity.
I am tired of being blamed for the sins of our fathers. You are making a blanket statement for ALL people who have “white” skin; based upon the color of their skin. We, as in We the People are deeply saddened and disturbed by the recent chain of events that led to this disaster beyond belief. Your post exposes the racial wounds we must no longer cover with just a bandage, yet you express the notion that WE all are treating this situation in a very cavalier manner. I care about a fellow human being not for the color of their skin, but because they have the same blood and guts as I do.
[…] poems: weak and weepy with frustration—frustration at myself, at cyclical injustice, at my own culpability and ignorance. What is to be done? How can we make up for all of the evil that has gone on and […]