Untitled…

Dylann Storm Roof

 

Say his name

With responsible acceptance.

Claim him

As a soldier of white supremacy.

With no attempts

To demystify

Blatant anger,

Inherent disdain

For black folks.

Dehumanize him as if he were

Walking his neighborhood streets

Asking for help

Making eye contact with an officer

Or daring to swim.

Dehumanize him.

With damning media coverage of his past.

No matter how unrelated,

How unnecessary.

Paint those pictures of a white male

THUG.

Whose propensity for violence

Is characteristic of his people.

 

They don’t wanna be saved.

 

Say his name.

Take ownership of his actions.

With no arguments for

Anomalistic brutality.

No explorations of his giftedness

And potential to be great,

Had he been supported by

The system.

No attribution to the

Naïveté of his youth.

No images of him smiling

Deeply steeped in

Childhood innocence.

For thugs are never children.

 

Say his name.

Call him a murderer,

Without exception.

No false diagnoses of mental illness

Hatred is no synonym

For psychosis.

No interviews with neighbors

Who knew him when

“He was such a good kid.”

No theorizing.

No cloaks of protection.

No Hollywood depictions of

A good guy, gone bad.

 

Dylann Storm Roof

 

Say his name.

Contemptuously.

And discuss his heinous

Crime with realness.

In the absence of white privilege.

And in the presence of respect

For the nine black lives

That mattered.

 

 

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