For Mother Emanuel

Though I am often critical of the Black Church, my criticism comes from a place of love and fondness for a house of worship that, for many years, was a second home, for church family that is sometimes closer than blood kin, and for a freedom I have witnessed ironically within the church’s confines. So today, as we continue to debate, analyze, spin, twist, and hide from the causes of the massacre in South Carolina’s Emanuel A.M.E. Church on June 17, 2015, I don’t offer critique. Because I was raised A.M.E. Zion, because I know what’s it’s like to be a five-year-old girl at prayer meeting on Wednesday night but can’t imagine having to play dead in the same place, and because I can’t say anything academically brilliant that hasn’t already been said, I share a memory of love.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *