On the recordJune 2, 2020
I rise today with difficulty. I admit I am like so many other Americans who are hurting right now and frustrated right now and feeling a torrent of emotions that I wish I could say it was the first time I felt like this. I want to begin my remarks in a different way because the names that we are hearing shouted on streets--George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor--are like so many other names of people that we did not know as a Nation. They were not household names. Their names now are mixed into names that we have heard throughout my entire lifetime. But their names--and the way we say them mixed with horror and sadness and tragedy--it does not speak to their beauty, their humanity, the fullness, the texturedness of their lives. I just want to say that Ahmaud Arbery was a man, and he was 25 years old when he was murdered. He went out jogging where he was hunted by two White men who walked free for weeks after killing him. This man, this child of God, his loved ones talked to his humanity. They said he was a loving son, a brother, an uncle, a nephew, a cousin, and a friend. He was humble. He was kind. He was well mannered. He always made sure that he never departed his loved ones without saying ``I love you.'' Breonna Taylor, before we knew her name--an extraordinary American, an extraordinary servant--she was a first responder. In a pandemic, like so many of our first responders, she showed a courage and humble heroism.…
