Hillary Clinton Addresses A.M.E. Church National Convention
Democratic
presidential candidate Hillary Clinton speaks at the African Methodist
Episcopal church national convention in Philadelphia, Friday, July 8,
2016. (AP Photo/Matt Rourke)
Remarks at the African Methodist Episcopal Church National Convention in Philadelphia
Giving all praise and honor to God.
Thank
you for that welcome, and for letting me be a part of this anniversary
celebration for the AME Church. I want to thank Bishop Green as well as
Bishop Bryant, Bishop White, Bishop Ingram, Bishop Young, Bishop
McKenzie, Bishop Jackson, Dr. Richard Allen Lewis, Sr., Reverend Dr.
Jeffery B. Cooper, Sr., Bishop Snorton, Reverend Vincent and the AME
General Conference Choir, which I had the great pleasure of hearing from
backstage.
There is no
better place to mark this milestone for the AME Church than right here
in Philadelphia, the city where this church was founded by a former
slave 200 years ago.
Today,
we join to celebrate your esteemed history, the leaders and congregants
who built this community and kept it strong, and your legacy of
service. You seek to meet what the Book of Micah tells us are the Lord’s
requirements for each of us: “To do justice, love kindness, and to walk
humbly with your God.”
As
President Obama has said, the church is the “beating heart” of the
African American community. This is the place where people worship,
study, grieve and rejoice without fear of persecution or mistreatment.
That is a precious thing, my friends, in this world. I know that, from
my experience as a lifelong Methodist, how important my own church
community has been to me.
So
I come here today, first and foremost, to say thank you. Thank you for
being part of this historic institution, and for carrying its work
forward, as Bishop Green said. I also come tonight as a mother, and a
grandmother to two beautiful little children. And like so many parents
and grandparents across America, I have been following the news of the
past few days with horror and grief.
On
Tuesday, Alton Sterling, father of five, was killed in Baton
Rouge — approached by the police for selling CDs outside a convenience
store. On Wednesday, Philando Castile, 32 years old, was killed outside
St. Paul — pulled over by the police for a broken tail light. And last
night in Dallas, during a peaceful protest related to those killings,
there was a vicious, appalling attack. A sniper targeted police
officers. He said he wanted to hurt white people. Twelve officers were
shot, along with two civilians. Five — five — officers have died. We now
know all their names: Brent Thompson, Michael Krol, Michael Smith,
Lorne Ahrens, and Patrick Zamarripa. And as I was on my way here today,
we heard reports of another shooting yesterday morning in Tennessee.
What
can one say about events like these? What can people and leaders of
faith say about events like these? It’s hard, isn’t it, even to know
where to start. But let’s start here — let’s take a moment to pray for
all the families and the loved ones suffering today. For Alton’s
grieving children. For the four-year-old girl who bravely comforted her
mother while Philando died in front of them. For the families of those
police officers who lived every day with the fear that something like
this could happen, and will always be proud of their service and
sacrifice.
We pray for
those families, and for the souls of everyone we lost this week and in
all weeks preceding. May they rest in God’s peace.
Now,
there are many unanswered questions about each of these incidents. We
will learn more in the days ahead. And when we know as much as we can,
there must be a just accounting.
For
now, let’s focus on what we already know — deep in our hearts. We know
there is something wrong with our country. There is too much violence,
too much hate, too much senseless killing, too many people dead who
shouldn’t be. And we know there is clear evidence that African Americans
are much more likely to be killed in police incidents than any other
group of Americans.
And
we know there is too little trust in too many places between police and
the communities they are sworn to protect. With so little common ground,
it can feel impossible to have the conversations we need to have, to
begin fixing what’s broken. We owe our children better than this. We owe
ourselves better than this.
No
one has all the answers. We need to find them together. Indeed, that is
the only way we can find them. Those are the truest things I can offer
today. We must do better, together. Let’s begin with something simple
but vital: listening to each other. For Scripture tells us to “incline
our ears to wisdom and apply our hearts to understanding.”
The
deaths of Alton and Philando are the latest in a long and painful
litany of African Americans killed in police incidents — 123 so far this
year alone. We know the names of other victims, too:
Tamir Rice.
Sandra Bland.
Walter Scott.
Dontre Hamilton.
Laquan McDonald.
Eric Garner.
Michael Brown.
Freddie Gray.
Brandon Tate-Brown, whose mother Tanya is here today, and who was killed not far from here a year and a half ago.
Tragically,
we could go on and on, couldn’t we. The families of the lost are trying
to tell us. We need to listen. People are crying out for criminal
justice reform. Families are being torn apart by excessive
incarceration. Young people are being threatened and humiliated by
racial profiling. Children are growing up in homes shattered by prison
and poverty.
They’re trying to tell us. We need to listen.
Brave
police officers are working hard every day to inspire trust and
confidence. As we mourn the Dallas police officers who died and pray for
those wounded, let’s not forget how the Dallas Police Department in
particular has earned a reputation for excellence. They’ve worked hard
for years to improve policing and strengthen their bonds with the
community. And they’ve gotten results.
Police
officers across the country are pouring their hearts into this work,
because they know how vital it is to the peace, tranquility, justice,
and equality of America. They’re trying to tell us. And we need to
listen.
People are crying
out for relief from gun violence. We remember Reverend Clementa
Pinckney, eight congregants at Mother Emanuel in Charleston — and
thousands more killed every year by guns across our nation. Things have
become so broken in Washington that to just try to get a vote on
compromise gun safety reforms, John Lewis himself had to stage a sit-in
on the floor of the House of Representatives.
Gun violence is ripping apart people’s lives. They’re trying to tell us. And we need to listen.
I
know that, just by saying all these things together, I may upset some
people. I’m talking about criminal justice reform the day after a
horrific attack on police officers. I’m talking about courageous,
honorable police officers just a few days after officer-involved
killings in Louisiana and Minnesota. I’m bringing up guns in a country
where merely talking about comprehensive background checks and getting
assault weapons off our streets gets you demonized.
But
all these things can be true at once. We do need police and criminal
justice reforms, to save lives and make sure all Americans are treated
equally in rights and dignity. We do need to support police departments
and stand up for the men and women who put their lives on the line every
day to protect us. And we do need to reduce gun violence. We may
disagree about how to do all these things, but surely we can all agree
with those basic premises. Surely this week showed us how true they are.
Now,
I have set forth plans for over a year to reduce excessive violence,
reform our sentencing laws, support police departments that are doing
things right, make it harder for the wrong people to get their hands on
guns. For example, there are two important steps that I will take as
president.
First, I will
bring law enforcement and communities together to develop national
guidelines on the use of force by police officers. We will make it clear
for everyone to see when deadly force is warranted, and when it isn’t.
And we will emphasize proven methods for de-escalating situations before
they reach that point.
And
second, let’s be honest — let’s acknowledge that implicit bias still
exists across our society and even in the best police departments. We
have to tackle it together, which is why in my first budget, I will
commit $1 billion to find and fund the best training programs, support
new research, and make this a national policing priority. Let’s learn
from those police departments like Dallas that have been making
progress, apply their lessons nationwide.
Now,
plans like these are important. But we have to acknowledge that — on
their own — they won’t be enough. On their own, our thoughts and prayers
aren’t enough, either. We need to do some hard work inside ourselves,
too.
Today, there are
people all across America sick over what happened in Dallas, and fearful
that the murders of these police officers will mean that vital
questions raised by Alton’s and Philando’s deaths will go unanswered.
That is a reasonable fear. Today, there are people all across America
who watched what happened in Dallas last night and are thinking, no
frustration with the police could ever justify this bloodshed. How did
we get here? And is there more to come? That’s a reasonable fear, too.
It
is up to all of us to make sure those fears don’t come true. We cannot,
we must not vilify police officers. Remember what those officers were
doing when they died. They were protecting a peaceful march. They were
people in authority, making sure their fellow citizens had the right to
protest authority. And there is nothing more vital to our democracy than
that. And they died for it.
Ending
the systemic racism that plagues our country — and rebuilding our
communities where the police and citizens all see themselves as being on
the same side — will require contributions from all of us. White
Americans need to do a better job of listening when African Americans
talk— talk about the seen and unseen barriers you face every day. We
need to try, as best we can, to walk in one another’s shoes — to imagine
what it would be like if people followed us around stores, or locked
their car doors when we walked past. Or if every time our children went
to play in the park, or went for a ride, or just to the store to buy
iced tea and Skittles, we said a prayer — “Please, God — please,
God — don’t let anything happen to my baby.”
And
let’s put ourselves in the shoes of police officers, kissing their kids
and spouses goodbye every day and heading off to a dangerous job we
need them to do. When gunfire broke out yesterday night, and everyone
ran to safety, the police officers ran the other way — into the gunfire.
That’s the kind of courage our police and first responders show every
single day somewhere across America. And let’s remember — let’s think
about what Dallas Police Chief David Brown said this morning. He said,
“Please join me in applauding these brave men and women, who do this job
under great scrutiny, under great vulnerability, who literally risk
their lives to protect our democracy.” He went on to say, “We don’t feel
much support most days. Let’s not make today most days.”
Let’s remember that — not just today but every day.
Let’s
ask ourselves, what can I do? What can I personally do to stop violence
and promote justice? How can I show that your life matters to me? That I
have a stake in your safety and wellbeing?
Elie
Wiesel, who died last week, once clarified for us that “the opposite of
love is not hate — it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is not
death — it’s indifference.” None of us can afford to be indifferent
toward each other — not now, not ever. And I’m going to keep talking
about these issues with every audience. And if I’m elected, I’ll start
working on this on day one — and keep at it every single day after that.
I
want you to know the 24-hour news cycle moves on — I won’t. This is so
important to who we are, what kind of nation we are making for our
children and our grandchildren. As President Obama said yesterday, and
as we all know in our hearts to be true: We are better than this. And if
we push hard enough, and long enough, we can bend the arc of history
toward justice. We can avoid that choice that Dr. King posed for us
between chaos and community.
So
yes, this is about our country. It’s also about our kids. There’s
nothing more important than that. And I think it’s about our faith. We
have a lot of work to do. We don’t have a moment to lose. But I would
not be here tonight if I did not believe we can come together with a
sense of shared purpose and belief in our shared humanity, and if I did
not know we must, because truly we are stronger together. Not separated
into factions or sides; not shouting over each other about who matters
more or who has more cause to be upset; but together, facing these
challenges together. And if we do this right and have the hard
conversations we need to have, we will become even stronger — like steel
tempered by fire.
Fierce
debates are part of who we are — just like freedom and order, justice
and security — complimentary values of American life. They are not easy.
They challenge us to dig deep, and constantly seek the right balance.
But in the end, if we do that work, we will become a better nation. If
we stand with each other now, we can build a future where no one is left
out or left behind, and everyone can share in the promise of
America — which is big enough for everyone, not to be reserved for a
few.
But we know
something — we know that work is hard, don’t we? I’m calling on this
historic church, and all of our churches, to think hard about what
special role you can play. Every day, you teach and show us about the
Golden Rule and so much else. Why can’t we really believe in and act on
it? To treat others as we would want to be treated.
In
the 13th chapter of First Corinthians, St. Paul extols the virtues of
faith, hope, and love for our fellow human beings. He says we need them
all in this life, because of our imperfections: we “see through a glass
darkly” and only “know in part.” He proclaims love the greatest virtue,
necessary to keep faith and hope alive and to give us direction.
I’ve
tried to say for some time now that our country needs more love and
kindness. I know it’s not the kind of thing presidential candidates
usually say. But we have to find ways to repair these wounds and close
these divides. The great genius and salvation of the United States is
our capacity to do and to be better. And we must answer the call to do
that again. It’s critical to everything else we want to achieve — more
jobs with rising income; good education no matter what ZIP code a child
lives in; affordable college; paying back debts; health care for
everyone. We must never give up on the dream of this nation.
I
want to close with a favorite passage — a passage that you all
know — that means a great deal to me and I’m sure to many of you, from
Galatians. “Let us not grow weary in doing good” — “for in due season,
we shall reap, if we do not lose heart.”
My
friends, let us not grow weary. Let us plan the path forward for all of
God’s children. There are lost lives to redeem, bright futures to
claim. Let us go forth — go forward, Bishop — with a sense of heartfelt
love and commitment. And may the memory of those we’ve lost light our
way toward the future our children and grandchildren deserve.
