In Memory of Cedric Williams
Donation protected
Cedric was killed on May 19th in Chicago. This was his senior year of high school. Please consider making a donation to help his family with the funeral costs.
A tribute to Cedric:
Dear Ced,
We miss you so much. That Smile. That Laugh. Of course, you were thrilling to watch on the court, but you were just as electric off it. Your personality lit up rooms and encouraged others. If the fruits of those who are marked by the Spirit of God are love and joy, peace and patience, kindness and gentleness, then the presence of God was uniquely in you. You were loving, kind, gentle, and joyful. You crossed boundaries and entered into other’s lives often without fear or question. You were trusting and open to learning—shame on anyone who took advantage of that. Thanks for showing us these fruits, giving us glimpses of what God is like—what a good human being is like. Thanks for sharing your lighthearted spirit with us and making us laugh and smile with you. We aren’t blind to the challenges life threw at you—challenges you fought hard against daily. Four schools in four years isn’t easy, walking everywhere isn’t easy, living in Chicago isn’t easy, just being black in America isn’t easy. And yet, you were resilient. You fought back and worked so hard. The countless hours you worked to improve the footwork on your jumpshot is characteristically Cedric—a representation of how hard you worked at life. We hope you are at peace and can rest now. The west side is a beautiful place, but sadly it is also a deadly place. We hate that – we lament that death was a daily reality in your context. We regret and confess our sins of omission and ignorance—that we didn’t do enough for you, for your family, for your neighborhood. We are sad, angry, and confused that you’re gone and that we won’t see you again in this life. We promise to honor you and all you gave to us by working against the systems and structures that you worked against. We promise to examine ourselves to see how we are contributing to violence and death so we don’t have to say goodbye to another. We can only hope that we will feel joyful again—that Cedric joy—a joy which might lead us to love, trust, and learn from others like you did.
A tribute to Cedric:
Dear Ced,
We miss you so much. That Smile. That Laugh. Of course, you were thrilling to watch on the court, but you were just as electric off it. Your personality lit up rooms and encouraged others. If the fruits of those who are marked by the Spirit of God are love and joy, peace and patience, kindness and gentleness, then the presence of God was uniquely in you. You were loving, kind, gentle, and joyful. You crossed boundaries and entered into other’s lives often without fear or question. You were trusting and open to learning—shame on anyone who took advantage of that. Thanks for showing us these fruits, giving us glimpses of what God is like—what a good human being is like. Thanks for sharing your lighthearted spirit with us and making us laugh and smile with you. We aren’t blind to the challenges life threw at you—challenges you fought hard against daily. Four schools in four years isn’t easy, walking everywhere isn’t easy, living in Chicago isn’t easy, just being black in America isn’t easy. And yet, you were resilient. You fought back and worked so hard. The countless hours you worked to improve the footwork on your jumpshot is characteristically Cedric—a representation of how hard you worked at life. We hope you are at peace and can rest now. The west side is a beautiful place, but sadly it is also a deadly place. We hate that – we lament that death was a daily reality in your context. We regret and confess our sins of omission and ignorance—that we didn’t do enough for you, for your family, for your neighborhood. We are sad, angry, and confused that you’re gone and that we won’t see you again in this life. We promise to honor you and all you gave to us by working against the systems and structures that you worked against. We promise to examine ourselves to see how we are contributing to violence and death so we don’t have to say goodbye to another. We can only hope that we will feel joyful again—that Cedric joy—a joy which might lead us to love, trust, and learn from others like you did.
Organizer
Hannah J Jones
Organizer
Chicago, IL