by Guest Columnist Roy S. Johnson, National Association of Black Journalists’ Hall of Fame, an Edward R. Murrow Award winner, and a Pulitzer Prize finalist for commentary
Someone lost their life because they believed in a presidential candidate.
Someone else is struggling for their life because they believed in a presidential candidate.
Thousands of people at a rally in Butler, Pennsylvania, a suburb north of Pittsburgh, are likely still traumatized after witnessing the near-assassination of a presidential candidate — because they believed in him.
We all lost something on Saturday afternoon — and I struggle even to compose these words. I struggle because even amid our horrendous political rancor, amid our discordant discourse over the direction nation, over who should lead this nation for the next four years, I believed in our fundamental good.
I believed most of us still feel compassion for our neighbors. For
ur fellow Americans.
For those whose life journey was different, originating from a different place and navigating through treacherous times.
For those born into less fortunate circumstances. Into less fortunate ZIP codes. Yet who still aspired to heights of greatness, despite obstacles they did not construct.
For those who could not reach a quality medical professional or purchase healthy foods for their family because of where they were born or lived.
For those who may not possess citizenship, but who crossed our border because what they left behind was far more horrific than the uncertainty of pursuing hope.
For those who loved in their own way.
I believed most of us don’t want to criminalize librarians, doctors, IVF centers, teachers or others for doing what they were dutifully trained to do. What they swore an oath to do.
Or criminalize parents or women for doing what they felt was right for their children or themselves.
I believed most of us want fairness, equal opportunity and equitable justice for all. And second chances (since we’ve all received one, or more) for the reformed.
I believed most of us don’t hate the candidate we do not believe should lead the United States for the next four years.
I believed most of us do not believe violence should be committed against those who believe in a different presidential candidate — as a blasphemous false prophet spewed in May.
I believed none of us want the candidate we did not believe in to be assassinated.
Yet, there was one.
Former President Donald Trump is alive, thankfully, after what the FBI says was an attempt on his life.
This is not how we do this, America. Not how we exercise whom we believe should lead us.
I grieve for the families of the spectator who lost their life and pray for the family of the victims still struggling for theirs.
We all lost something on Saturday. Indeed, we lost two things.
We lost the ability to call gun violence in our nation as a “gun” problem, a “mental health” problem, a “Black-on-Black” problem, or “some other neighborhood’s” problem.
Gun violence is America’s problem, and until we collectively acknowledge and accept it, we will continue to lose. Lose lives. Lose a piece of each of us. Lose our nation.
Until we have nothing else to lose. That’s a frighteningly dangerous place to be. A place I believe none of us wants to be.
I also believe we lost this: Our ability to simply characterize our political state as merely discordant. It certainly is and has been since seeds were planted in 2008. When some were simply not ready. Not ready for change. For history.
Sixteen years later, as we sit on the cusp of party conventions that will be unlike any other, less than four months from an election whose importance transcends any suitable description, we are in a dangerous place, y’all — a place I believe most of us don’t want to be.
A place from which we can extricate ourselves only by ceasing vitriolic rhetoric. All violent rhetoric — even as we disagree on policies, paths and especially the person we believe should lead us for the next four years.
If we still believe. In us.
