Remembering Mother Emanuel: A Reflection on Faith, Resilience, and Our Continued Fight for Justice
Ten years ago today, on June 17, 2015, our nation witnessed an act of pure evil that shook us to our core. Nine beautiful souls were murdered at Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina, during a Bible study session. Today, we pause to remember the Emanuel Nine: Cynthia Marie Graham Hurd, Susie Jackson, Ethel Lee Lance, Depayne Middleton-Doctor, Tywanza Sanders, Daniel Simmons, Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, Myra Thompson, and the Reverend Clementa C. Pinckney.
As I reflect on this tragic anniversary, I am struck by the profound contradiction of that evening. Here was a place of worship, a sanctuary where people gathered to study God’s word and find community, transformed into a site of unspeakable hatred. The perpetrator sat among them for an hour, welcomed with open arms that have always defined the Black church tradition, before committing his heinous act of domestic terrorism.
Mother Emanuel was not just any church. It was founded in 1816 and was a beacon of hope and resistance for nearly two centuries. It was where Denmark Vesey, who helped plan a slave rebellion, once worshipped. It was a station on the Underground Railroad. It was a place where civil rights leaders gathered and organized. The church represented everything that the forces of hate have always sought to destroy: Black faith, Black community, Black resilience, and Black joy.
The intersection of faith and identity has always been central to the Black experience in America. It remains central to our work at Atlanta Black Pride. Many in our BIPOC community have found strength and solace in institutions like Mother Emanuel, making this sanctuary even more precious to us all. Historically, the Black church has been a place of refuge and organization, a cornerstone of our community’s resilience. The legacy of Mother Emanuel reminds us that, at its best, the Black church embodies radical love and inclusion for all people.
What struck me most in the days following the shooting was the response of the victims’ families. Their grace, forgiveness, and refusal to let hate win were a testament to the power of faith and the strength of the human spirit. They showed us what it means to turn pain into purpose, to transform tragedy into a call for justice.
But forgiveness does not mean forgetting. It does not mean accepting the status quo. The Charleston shooting was not an isolated incident – it was the result of centuries of white supremacist ideology that continues to manifest in violence against Black bodies, Black spaces, and Black communities. As we remember the Emanuel Nine, we must also acknowledge that the work they died for – the work of justice, equality, and human dignity – remains unfinished.
At Atlanta Black Pride, we understand that our liberation is interconnected. The same forces that took the lives of those nine souls are the forces that seek to marginalize BIPOC communities, attack our right to exist with dignity and deny us fundamental human rights and equality. We cannot separate the fight against racism from the battle against all forms of oppression and discrimination. They are all manifestations of the same system that seeks to dehumanize those who dare to stand up for justice.
The Emanuel Nine were taken from us while engaged in the sacred act of community building. They studied scripture, shared fellowship, and strengthened bonds that sustain us through difficult times. This is precisely what we do at Atlanta Black Pride – we create space for our community to unite, celebrate our identities, support one another, and organize for justice.
Today, as we remember, we must also recommit. We must recommit to the vision of the beloved community Dr. King spoke of, and the Emanuel Nine lived for. We must recommit to creating spaces where all people can worship, love, and exist without fear. We must recommit to the long work of justice that cannot be deterred by violence or hatred.
To the families of the Emanuel Nine, to the Mother Emanuel congregation, to the Charleston community, and to all who continue to grieve: your loved ones are not forgotten. Their legacy lives on in every act of love that conquers hate, in every moment of grace that overcomes bitterness, and in every step forward in the march toward justice and equality for all BIPOC communities.
The doors of Mother Emanuel remain open. The church continues to serve its community. The light that hatred sought to extinguish burns brighter than ever. Our testimony is that love is stronger than hate, community is more powerful than division, and faith endures beyond fear.
As we move forward from this day of remembrance, let us carry the spirit of the Emanuel Nine. Let us welcome strangers, study and grow together, and fight for justice while maintaining our capacity for grace. Let us be people who refuse to let hate have the final word.
In memory of the Emanuel Nine, in solidarity with all who mourn, and in hope for the beloved community yet to come.
In faith and solidarity,
Terence D. Stewart
President and CEO
Atlanta Black Pride, Inc.