A year ago today, a young angry man with access to a violent machine designed for a singular, terrible purpose killed nine people in our neighborhood. (1/12)

The shooting sits at the intersection of so many issues, including gun violence, violence against women, violence against trans people, our segregated city, and the unbridled aggression of men. (2/12)

Today I'm thinking of all of the families forever affected by that night last year. The lives prematurely extinguished. The service industry folks who went back to work traumatized and now face the additional stress of this global pandemic. (3/12)

I'm thinking of the neighborhoods and violence that don't garner international attention. (4/12)

For the last year, I've been thinking about how so much of the work we have in front of us requires a willingness to imagine a different, more just world. To imagine a different, more just, safer environment for women. (5/12)

To imagine a different, less violent culture not centered on guns and male aggression. (6/12)

When I spoke at the vigil last year, I led my remarks by quoting Hanif Abdurraqib. "It's in the spirit of male loneliness to imagine that someone has to suffer for it." Truthfully, I lacked the words to grapple with tragedy and so I turned to a poet. (7/12)

A year later, I continue to believe that the price for healing and progress will be interrogating male violence and the tools of its destruction. (8/12)

When I contemplate the context in which we mark this one year, I think about the George Floyd protests. (9/12)

People are taking to the streets not just to fight against white supremacy as some amorphous, unknowable force, but to specifically guard against the violence at the center of ensuring its survival. (10/12)

I don't know what the next year will bring. I only know the calendar doesn't really much care. So what we are left with in Dayton, then, is our commitment to building the city we want to build. (11/12)

Our success ultimately won't be decided by whether or not we are "Dayton Strong," but by whether we have the moral courage to imagine a different, more just, more equal path. (12/12)