No where to go...

When the Charleston church shooting happened in 2015 it was a dark day in the United States. Who goes into a church, fellowship with its members and then murder them all after they get done praying for you? It was especially hard on those Black folks who regularly attend church. In the Black community, the church has been a refuge of sorts. It was a place where you can connect with your spiritual creator, be surrounded by people who love you (or care about you at least). It was a place where you went to relax and not worry about the stress of work, the stress of your family, the stress of anything. It is a place where you connect with friends who seem like family. It is a place where you dump all your problems and have people support you with love and nurturing. You saw the same people everyday, the big hat ladies, the most beloved candy lady, the church mothers, the deacons sitting around talking about fishing and the one that got away. Everyone called each other Sister or Brother before their last names. It was a safe community Blacks looked forward to every week.

That changed with Charleston. Everything changed with that mid-week service. Churches were no longer safe. They could be violated with the cruelest hate known to man. I found out about it at work. One of my black coworkers is a pastor. He and I looked at each other and we both felt so heavy. So burdened. So hurt. So lost. It normally is times like these where you turn to your place of worship to get away from all the evil.

Church is no longer safe. But my home is, right? Wrong. That is if a police officer thinks that is their house. Then they can legally kill you and make it your fault.

If you're Black, you've got no where to go.