When Jarvis McKenzie locked eyes with a man in a car and watched him pick up a rifle, fire over his head and yell “you better get running, boy,” he said he knew he was being targeted because he is Black. The July 24 incident in Richland County — captured on security video and now the subject of a local misdemeanor hate-crime charge — has renewed pressure on state lawmakers to enact a statewide hate-crime law.

A month after the shooting, McKenzie described waiting at the edge of his neighborhood at 5:30 a.m. for a ride to work and now leaving the house with unease and fear. "I feel like somebody is watching me. I feel like I'm being followed," he said at a news conference Aug. 21, as local officials and advocacy groups called for broader protections.

South Carolina is one of two states, along with Wyoming, without a statewide hate-crime statute. About two dozen local governments in South Carolina have adopted ordinances in recent years, but those measures are limited to misdemeanor penalties with sentences generally capped at a month in jail. Supporters of a state bill say that falls far short of accountability for violent, bias-driven attacks and are urging the Republican-controlled Senate to take a vote on legislation that could add years to sentences for assault and other violent crimes motivated by race, religion, sexual orientation, gender or ethnicity.

The man seen on camera in the Richland County incident has been charged under the county ordinance and faces state assault charges — including assault and battery of a high and aggravated nature that carries as much as 20 years behind bars if convicted. Local officials say those state charges show a stronger case can be brought under existing statutes, but they contend a statewide hate-crime law would better recognize and deter bias-motivated violence.

Crime scene tape around a parking lot

The push for statewide legislation intensified after the 2015 mass shooting at Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, where nine Black worshippers were killed. Survivors of that massacre, business leaders and civic groups have advocated for a law that sends a clear signal that the state will not tolerate crimes driven by bias.

The South Carolina House passed a hate-crime bill in 2021, and supporters brought the issue back in 2023, but the measure has repeatedly stalled in the Senate. Advocates say Senate leadership has kept the bill off the calendar despite bipartisan support among rank-and-file lawmakers. Senate Majority Leader Shane Massey has argued the proposal is unnecessary and could be divisive. "The problem right now is there is a number of people who think that not only is it feel good legislation, but it is bad legislation. It is bad policy not because people support hate but because it furthers division," he said on the Senate floor during a debate last year.

Opponents often point to federal hate-crime statutes and the federal prosecution of the Emanuel AME Church shooter as evidence the state does not need its own law. Federal authorities have broader jurisdiction in some cases and can pursue hate-crime charges that carry severe penalties. Richland County Sheriff Leon Lott and other local officials counter that federal law has limits — it cannot always prosecute juvenile offenders, has finite time and resources, and moves decisions away from local prosecutors who handle the bulk of violent-crime cases.

"It's common sense. We're making something very simple complicated, and it's not complicated," Lott said. "If you commit a crime against somebody just because of the hate for them, because of who they are, the religion, etcetera, we know what that is."

Republican Gov. Henry McMaster has said existing South Carolina statutes for assault and other violent crimes provide adequate punishment without crafting a new hate-crimes measure. McMaster, a former prosecutor, expressed concern about prosecutors or courts attempting to probe a defendant's mind or police speech. "There's no such thing as a love crime. There is always an element of hatred or disrespect or something like that," he said, adding that judges can impose maximum sentences where warranted.

Supporters of a state hate-crime law say those arguments ignore the symbolic and practical value of expressly recognizing bias as an aggravating factor. They argue a distinct statute would provide clearer guidance to prosecutors, better reflect the community harm wrought by bias-motivated crimes and help deter would-be perpetrators. Attorney Tyler Bailey, who represents McKenzie, said the absence of a state law sends a dangerous message: "The subliminal message that says if you're racist and you want to commit a crime and target somebody for their race, gender, ethnicity, sexual orientation or whatever it is you can do it here."

Democratic lawmakers and advocates voiced frustration that the Senate prioritized other measures in recent sessions, including debates over sentencing enhancements for assaults on health care workers and penalties for attacks on police dogs, while leaving hate-crime legislation unaddressed. Supporters said the bill has backing from a mix of constituencies, including businesses that made the issue a priority after racial unrest in 2020.

Local ordinances have become a partial workaround for the legislative impasse. Richland County's measure was adopted after Lott pushed the idea locally; it is the first time that county-level ordinance has been used to bring a hate-related charge in this case. But those ordinances carry limited penalties, and proponents of a statewide statute say only a state law can ensure consistent treatment across jurisdictions and carry sentencing enhancements commensurate with the severity of violent, bias-motivated crimes.

Legal scholars and prosecutors note that hate-crime laws augment, rather than replace, existing criminal statutes by allowing courts to account for a defendant's motivation. Federal prosecutors have used hate-crime charges selectively when cases involve interstate aspects, civil-rights violations or when local authorities seek federal assistance. The debate in South Carolina centers in part on whether state-level recognition is necessary to fill gaps and reaffirm community values.

Advocates said they will continue pressing the Senate and public officials to act. Survivors and family members of the Emanuel AME victims have repeatedly urged lawmakers to pass a law they say would honor the lives lost and protect vulnerable communities. The measure's fate remains tied to the Senate calendar and the political calculations of its leadership.

As Richland County prosecutions proceed and McKenzie and his family cope with the aftermath of the July shooting, the debate over whether South Carolina will adopt a statewide hate-crime law is likely to remain a contentious issue in the statehouse and across the communities pushing for change.

Emanuel AME Church shooting survivors