When Memory Fades, Accountability Suffers

Sometimes I sit back, turn on the news, and my heart just sinks. Not because I’m surprised—but because I’m reminded how even at the highest levels of power, the pain and history of our communities are too easily forgotten. The most recent example? A moment of stunning amnesia from both FBI Director Christopher Wray and former Trump official Kash Patel at a House Judiciary hearing that hit with a deeper sting than most.

The Forgotten Name That Should Never Be Forgotten

At that hearing, members of Congress asked Patel whether he recognized the name “Dylann Roof.” He said no.

Let me sit with that for a second. Dylann Roof is the white supremacist who, in 2015, walked into a Charleston, South Carolina church and murdered nine Black churchgoers during Bible study. Their names—Cynthia, Depayne, Sharonda, Tywanza, Myra, Ethel, Susie, Daniel, and Clementa—are etched into our collective sorrow.

This was one of the most vile acts of racial violence in recent American history. And yet, here we are, less than ten years later, listening to so-called leaders forget the name of the terrorist who committed it.

When asked about extremist threats, specifically white supremacist violence, Chris Wray—the FBI Director—needed a “reminder” about Roof. His excuse? “I’ve got a lot in front of me.”

“A lot in front of me”—But Not Us?

I understand being busy. I understand the flood of information a person in that position has to process. I served in the military; I know pressure. But there are just some names you don’t forget when you’re in a role charged with protecting this country from domestic terrorism. That name should be carved into the memory of any American leader focused on security and justice.

If Black people in America never forget, why is it so easy for others to? We carry these names in our hearts because we don’t have the luxury of forgetting. We live with the aftermath—no reminders needed.

Selective Amnesia in Places of Power

I’ve noticed that forgetting seems a little too convenient in government spaces. From mishandling pandemic responses to seemingly blanking out on events like January 6, we’re always being told someone “misspoke” or “didn’t recall.” But selective amnesia is not a policy strategy—it’s a symptom of disregard.

When the people with power constantly need to be reminded of the tragedies our communities endure, it sends a loud and clear message: our pain doesn’t sit at the top of the priority list.

Failure of Leadership, Not Memory

This isn’t about names on a flashcard. It’s about the pattern. When white supremacy storms a church, it’s an “incident.” When violence ravages Black and brown communities, we’re given thoughts and prayers while future so-called leaders forget who was responsible six years later.

What would the response be if someone forgot Timothy McVeigh’s name? Or the Boston Marathon bomber? Would that be considered a forgivable oversight?

We shouldn’t have to keep reminding those in leadership of what matters. But maybe that says more about who they think they serve than it does about forgetfulness.

We Remember, Even When They Don’t

So let me help anyone else struggling with memory today: Dylann Roof is a domestic terrorist who murdered Black worshippers in their church because of the color of their skin. He planned it. He posted about it. He sat with his victims while they prayed, then butchered them in cold blood.

This isn’t ancient history. It’s a wound that’s still bleeding.

What Now?

We can’t let our leaders forget. We can’t stand quietly while political talking heads treat white nationalist violence like a footnote.

We owe it to the families of Charleston to keep saying the names of those taken. We owe it to this country to demand that those whose job is to maintain justice come to the table fully aware of the evils we still face.

Conclusion: Hold Them Accountable

To my readers—especially those who’ve ever felt sidelined or erased—let this be your reminder: you are not alone, and you are not invisible. We can’t let the D.C. memory lapses define the national conversation. When they forget, we remember. When they ignore, we speak.

We are the living history they try to scroll past. But we’re still here. And we’re speaking up.

I encourage you to share this, talk about it with your families, your churches, your communities. Demand better from every officeholder, every agency head, every leader who claims to serve justice.

Because when we forget, injustice wins. And I refuse to let that happen on my watch.