Not Again.

by Irene Daniel

You know, I was all set to post my essay on the racial identity crisis of Rachel Dolezal. I read a lot of articles, watched as many interviews as I could stomach, in preparation of this one blog post for today. And then Charleston.

When 9 people are murdered in their church, Dolezal's identity crisis seems less important. It would seem disrespectful to give my attention to Dolezal today. I can't explain it any better than that. And so I post my confusion, not about a white woman who chose to identify as black, but about 9 dead people who never had the luxury of choosing their racial identity. They are dead because they are black. They didn't "identify" as black. They didn't darken their skin. They were shot to death by a white supremacist who feared surrendering his false sense of superiority, and the unjust enrichment that ensued therefrom. He is a very young man, only 21 years old. Dylann Storm Roof opened fire in a church where he had been sitting with the congregation for over an hour, in an historic black church.

How did we get here? How are we still here? When will we learn that we must all share our world and its many beautiful things with one another every day. Why is this such a difficult thing to do? When will the time come that none of us has to best another in order to be in allegiance with something special that we feel; patriotism, religion? Why must we seek separation from our fellows in order to feel good about ourselves? I have never, ever been able to understand the need for segregation and separateness. I know now that I never will.

I grieve for all of the dead, injured and otherwise traumatized. How totally shocking it must be to see someone shooting your fellow worshippers in the House of God, where we all need to feel the most safe, the most at home in our souls. I cannot imagine witnessing such a violent and deadly act in a church right before your eyes. It just seems too cruel a thing to survive.

And yet, survive they must. And we must. And we have to move past all of this somehow. I don't know how, but we must. Our great nation is better than this. We are a better people, a more compassionate and inclusive people than this tragedy demonstrates.

I find myself unable to hate the gunman. He is a victim too. He is a victim of being taught that, because of the color of his skin, he is superior to those with darker pigments. And he inherited the rage of white supremacy from somewhere. Someone taught him to hate. Why?

I have no answers to anything today. I am just sad and confused by our nation's 21st century racial identity crisis. Who can deny that we are not in a crisis around race relations these days? It seems that the election of our first black president has uncovered a lot of resentment around race in America. It's as though a well-watched pot has finally boiled over into the madness we have experienced this week.

These two stories juxtaposed, about a week apart; both provide a different vantage point from which to assess how our country still struggles with issues of race.

We shall overcome? When?


                                                                       Copyright 2015, Irene Daniel, All rights reserved.