A View From a Pew: Mourning Honestly, Without Losing Our Humanity

 Can we mourn a life lost and still not agree with everything that person said? I believe we can.

James Baldwin, the American author and civil rights activist, put it best: “We can disagree and still love each other unless your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist.”

When I first heard about the killing of Charlie Kirk, I wrestled with how to respond. Then I came across a Facebook post by LaFonda Middleton, a graduate of Albany State University and the University of Florida, whose words captured what I was feeling. With her permission, I paraphrase her sentiments here.

“I want to say this with love: I do not condone violence of any kind—not even against someone I disagree with. My heart goes out to Charlie Kirk’s wife, children, and family. No one deserves to die the way he did.

But we also must be honest. Many Black and Brown people are not mourning him in the same way others are. Revisiting his words after his death was painful.

He once joked that when he saw a Black pilot, he hoped that pilot was ‘qualified.’ To me, that reflected a belief that Black professionals are presumed incompetent.

He told his audience that in ‘urban America, prowling Blacks go around for fun to target white people.’ To me, that painted Black communities as violent predators.

He questioned whether ‘moronic’ Black women in customer service roles were hired for their skills or simply because of affirmative action. To me, that dismissed Black women as inherently less capable.

And he claimed that brilliant Black women like Joy Reid, Michelle Obama, and Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson—women educated at the highest levels—‘do not have the brain processing power’ and only succeed by ‘stealing a white person’s slot.’ To me, that revealed a belief that Black people are intellectually inferior.

I understand why some loved him. He quoted Scripture and likely believed he was doing the Lord’s work. But you cannot expect us to overlook words that told the world people like me are less than human.

So here is where I land: I am saddened by his killing, and I acknowledge the deep pain felt by his family and supporters. At the same time, I cannot ignore the harm of his words and what they represented to communities like mine.

Empathy must go both ways. If we are going to move forward as a culture, we must find a way to hold space for grief, for honesty, and for accountability—without resorting to violence and without erasing anyone’s humanity.”

As a publisher, I depend on free speech and the protection it gives the press. I may disagree with what someone says, but they still have the right to say it. Yet what many forget is this: free speech does not mean freedom from consequences.

In the days following Kirk’s death, some people took to social media to celebrate his killing. Many soon discovered that employers in the private sector do not have to protect that kind of speech. Jobs were lost, reputations damaged. Here in Columbus, that reality hit close to home when Columbus State University professor Allen Gee resigned from his endowed chair and directorship of the CSU Press after comments he made online—though he still retains his teaching role.

This is the danger: when we stop seeing the humanity of those we disagree with, it becomes easier to excuse—or even justify—violence against them. And that is a road we cannot afford to travel.

We can mourn without erasing truth. We can be honest without losing compassion. And above all, we must protect our own humanity, even when faced with words that deny it.