MEET OTHER MEMBERS OF THE #SAYHERNAME FAMILY NETWORK
Fran Garrett, Mother of Michelle Cusseaux
Fran Garrett’s daughter, 50-year-old Michelle Cusseaux, was tragically murdered by the police in her own home in August 2014 when they came for a mental health wellness check. Under Arizona’s first responder law, multiple uniformed police officers arrived unannounced and with guns pulled. After Michelle refused to let the police in her home, Sergeant Percy Durpa pried open the locked security door, and was met with Michelle holding a hammer in her hands. Dupra claimed that he felt threatened, although no threats were made, shot her in the heart. Her mother and sister have explained that Michelle had the hammer, along with several other tools, with her in the living room because she was changing the locks in her home. When the paramedics arrived to take Michelle to the hospital they took her in for medical treatment at the hospital across town, instead of the one a few minutes away. Since Michelle’s untimely death, Fran has been very active in calls for police reform, notably marching her daughter’s casket through downtown Phoenix weeks after the shooting. Her efforts have been met with reforms on the part of the city of Phoenix, including the creation of the police department’s mental health advisory board and a seven-member police unit dedicated to crisis intervention. In addition, Fran worked closely with the AAPF to develop the Say Her Name campaign. Continuing to carry the torch for her daughter Fran organizes an annual mental health awareness and toy giveaway in collaboration with the local community, federal agencies, and local law enforcement.
Sharon Wilkerson, Mother of Shelly Frey
Sharon Wilkerson’s daughter, 27-year-old Shelly Frey, was killed in a Walmart parking lot by an off-duty police officer who was working as store security. Louis Campbell, a deputy sheriff and Houston area minister, shot and killed Shelly on December 6, 2012 in an attempt to apprehend her friend who he suspects to be shoplifting from a Walmart store. After entering their car, where her friend’s two children were waiting for them, Shelly was shot twice in the neck through the car window. Campbell later claimed that he fired shots in self-defense because the driver had attempted to run him over. After Shelly was shot, neither the driver nor the police sought medical attention for her. Her body was left in the car for eight hours. If Shelly received immediate medical attention, she would likely have survived. In the wake of her daughter’s death, Sharon Wilkerson has sought to elevate the story of her daughter and Black women like her who, often struggling with poverty and caretaking responsibilities, have run-ins with the law that prove fatal. Sharon has sued the deputy, the security company that hired him and Wal-Mart, hoping to secure justice for her daughter through the courts.
Cassandra Johnson, Mother of Tanisha Anderson
Cassandra Johnson’s daughter, 37-year-old Tanisha Anderson, was killed on November 13, 2014 during an encounter with police as her family watched from their home. Growing up, Tanisha had excelled as a student, and aspired to become a broadcast journalist. She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in her 20s, and began taking medication. On a cold night in Cleveland, Tanisha became disoriented and repeatedly tried to leave the house without shoes and wearing only a nightgown. Her brother called the police for help, but instead of an ambulance, two sets of police officers arrived. What should have been a routine mental health call turned deadly when one of the arresting officers used a takedown move and kneeled on Tanisha’s back. Tanisha’s heart disease and bipolar disorder were factors that heightened her vulnerability to the police’s violent tactics. She arrived at the hospital in cardiopulmonary arrest and could not be revived. Her death was ruled a homicide, but a grand jury cleared Cleveland police officers Scott Aldridge and Bryan Myers of all wrongdoing. Shortly before Anderson passed, the U.S. Justice Department released a report that found that Cleveland police lack the proper training to navigate encounters with residents with mental illness. The report found that officers resort to using force against the mentally and medically unwell in lieu of de-escalation techniques.
Since the killing of her daughter, Cassandra Johnson has been active in the Say Her Name movement, sharing Tanisha’s story and finding common cause with other mothers of Black women killed by police.
Maria Moore, Sister of Kayla Moore
Maria Moore’s sister, 41-year-old Kayla Moore, a Black transgender woman, was killed by Berkeley police who came to her home in response to a call for help from her roommate on February 12, 2013. Her roommate had summoned police because Kayla was experiencing a mental health crisis. Instead of escorting Kayla to a medical facility as requested, the officers attempted to arrest her on a warrant for a man 20 years her senior, who had the same name she was given at birth. Several officers overpowered Kayla in her own bedroom, suffocating her to death in the process. Afterward, officers delayed monitoring her vital signs, referred to her using transgender slurs, and failed to administer adequate life-saving treatment. Kayla’s body was also exposed during and after the police assault. Activists in Berkeley have organized to publicize her case, and her family has filed a lawsuit against the Berkeley police officers responsible for her death.
Gina Best, Mother of India Kager Gina Best is the mother of India Kager, a 27-year-old Black woman shot and killed by Virginia Beach Police on September 5, 2015, while in a car with her 4-month-old son. Four officers fired 30 rounds in under 15 seconds into the car killing India and Angelo Perry, who was driving the car. Her baby, Roman, survived the shooting. Police officers had allegedly tailed Perry for several days believing him to be planning to commit a violent crime. India, a postal service worker and navy veteran, was not involved in any criminal activity. India had another son, Evan, who was four when he lost his mother. Since her daughter’s death, Gina has sought to raise awareness around police brutality. Gina describes her daughter as “a beautiful soul” who was “very supportive, contemplative, highly gifted and extremely articulate.” India attended Duke Ellington School of Arts in Washington DC, where she focused on visual arts. After her service attended art school in Virginia. She came from a family of police officers.
Rhanda Dormeus, Mother of Korryn Gaines
The mother of Korryn Gaines, who was shot and killed with her son in her arms, Rhanda Dormeus has spent the last 18 months seeking police accountability for the death of her daughter. Korryn, who was only 23 at the time of her death, believed herself to be in grave danger when the police arrived on Aug 1, 2016 to serve the mother of two a warrant for failure to appear in court following a traffic violation. Fearing for herself and her family’s security, Korryn barricaded herself in her house with a shotgun and livestreamed much of the subsequent, hours-long standoff before, at the request of the police, Facebook and Twitter shut down her accounts. Police then entered her apartment and fired, killing Korryn and injuring her son Kodi on a ricochet. As Korryn was armed at the time of her death, the shooting was considered justified by the Maryland State Attorney’s office and the officer responsible remains on the force, where he was subsequently promoted. In the wake of her daughter’s death and her own activism, the Baltimore County Police have increased the usage of body-cams, and have instituted new policies for engaging individuals who may present mental health issues.
Additional Resources
EPISODE TRANSCRIPT
News Report:
Police shot and killed a woman after a long standoff in Randallstown. A 5-year-old boy was also shot during the barricade, he is expected to be ok. Police say three officers went to serve arrest warrants on Korryn Gaines and a man who lived in the apartment. Gaines was wanted for failing to appear on several charges, including disorderly conduct and resisting arrest following a traffic stop.
Korryn Gaines Livestream, August 2016: Korryn: Who’s outside? Kodi: The police. Korryn: What are they trying to do? Kodi: They’re trying to kill us.
Rhanda Dormeus:
Well the traffic stop which I guess was the basis or the premise for her untimely death was in March of 2016.
Korryn Gaines Livestream, March 2016: Korryn: You sit right here with mommy. Don’t be afraid.
Rhanda Dormeus:
And so there was a struggle, they ripped her out of her car. Because actually she didn't want them to touch her children. She said, "Don't touch my children. She knew that her grandmother was on her way. Her grandmother lived right up the street from her. And so she was like you know don't touch my children.
I wasn't actually there to witness it so I don't wanna speculate. But based on what I was told when her grandmother got there is that they literally just snatched her out of the car, like ripped her out of the car.
And so a struggle ensued, a struggle did ensue. And she was taken into custody, she was taken to the hospital because at the time she was pregnant. She was pregnant with twins. And when they took her to the hospital they did her pregnancy test and her HCG count, which is the hormones that sustains a pregnancy, were okay. So once they released her after a few hours they took her, the officers, took her to a holding pen in Baltimore County. I believe it was in Woodlawn.
And they stuck her in a isolation cell by herself. Which means she's out of view and you can barely hear her. And I think they do-
Kimberlé Crenshaw:
For what reason did they give-
Rhanda Dormeus:
They didn't like her mouth, well they didn't give a reason but I'm sure it was because they didn't like her mouth. Which is a very similar situation that they did to Sandra Bland. What did they do, they isolated her. They put her off by herself.
Let me tell you something, that stuff is not by accident. When you isolate somebody especially when they're upset or can't figure out why they're being detained. And the emotions are already heightened.
You isolate people and it puts them in a vulnerable situation. Not so much that they would hurt themselves but it's there to break their spirit. To bring them down a notch for lack of a better word.
She had complained that she wasn't feeling well. They didn't give her any food, any water, she was severely- I still have the labs to prove it.
When they rushed her back to the hospital after hours and hours of her begging and crying and pleading, her HCG count had dropped which was indicative of her losing the babies. And so these are labs and things that are within I think it was like a 24 hour period that had went from normal to devastating.
Like she was showing signs of dehydration when she went back the second time. How? Because she wasn't given any water or food. Kim Crenshaw:
And so just to clarify they're aware that she's pregnant? Rhanda Dormeus:
Yes, yes.
Kim Crenshaw:
They're now aware that her levels, her indicators are becoming dangerous?
Rhanda Dormeus:
Yes.
Kim Crenshaw:
And they do nothing?
Rhanda Dormeus:
And they did nothing. The ambulance attendant called me about 2:30 or 3:00 in the morning. She said listen don't talk. And I got quiet. She said, "I'm a paramedic she said I transferred your daughter, and she said she hasn't had any water or any food and she's extremely dehydrated. And she said, "Get a lawyer" and she hung up.
Rhanda Dormeus:
Soon after that, they actually released her from the hospital. The paperwork that they gave her didn't have any of the information that was pertinent to her court date. They didn't have her paperwork in there, which is why another video came out where she went to the station and actually requested the documents. The officer, at first, did not recognize her and then she gave him her name and he recognized her and then went on to say, "Well, the supervisor that would have that document or be able to access it isn't available”
Kim Crenshaw:
And the reason why this is important is that she failed to appear.
Rhanda Dormeus:
Yes.
Kim Crenshaw:
And her failure to appear prompted what?
Rhanda Dormeus:
An arrest warrant
Kim Crenshaw:
Again, this a failure to appear for a follow-up proceeding-
Rhanda Dormeus:
For a traffic violation.
Kim Crenshaw:
... involving a traffic stop.
Rhanda Dormeus:
Yes.
Kim Crenshaw:
So then what happened when they sent the arrest warrant out for her?
Rhanda Dormeus:
That morning of August 1st, I got a phone call. I got a message, text message. I didn't even see it at first, I think it was around maybe 8:00-ish in the morning, that someone was trying to gain entry into her apartment. She didn't know who it was at first. She didn't know who it was at first, and they even said on the stand that they took and went ... Because they knocked on the door and they heard children, they decided that the children could be in danger, so they went to the rental office and got the key.
Korryn's perception is, first of all, "Everybody who needs a key and has a key is in here, so who would be coming in my door with a key?" She sat and waited in the middle of her living room floor with her shotgun, which was a legally owned shotgun.
Kim Crenshaw:
And she has a right to do that.
Rhanda Dormeus:
Absolutely. Especially if you have not made an announcement about who is entering your door. Again, just because you hear somebody in an apartment does not mean that you have right to gain to access. Like during the court proceedings, why couldn't they come back another day?
Rhanda Dormeus:
After I was able to speak to her that morning and I was able to have my Andre, my fiance come and take me to the scene, I spoke with an officer after my daughter's boyfriend contacted me. They had taken him into custody, and so they didn't see that he had his phone, so he called me. He didn't even say hi. He said, "Ma, they're going to kill her." That was the first thing out of his mouth. He said, "They're going to kill her." I said, "What's going on?" and I'm on my way. In between me asking him what's going on and him being able to respond the officer realized he had a phone, so he took the phone and I said, "Officer," I said, "I'm the young lady's mother. I'm Korryn's mother." At first, I told him, I said, "I'm on my way." He said, "It's too late for all of that." I said, "What do you mean? " I said, "What do you mean? You going to just kill my child?"
Kim Crenshaw:
Why would they not let you talk to your daughter?
Rhanda Dormeus:
They said that it is a form of finality. That if they consider the person to be a threat, suicidal or homicidal, that if they allow family members or anybody to reach out to them directly, which means I talk to her directly, that that's a form of finality. That could be their way-
Kim Crenshaw:
What does that mean?
Rhanda Dormeus:
That they can use that time to say their goodbyes and possibly kill themselves or ... You know what I mean?
Kim Crenshaw:
So they were trying to tell you that in her interest they didn't want you to talk to her?
Rhanda Dormeus:
Yes. They didn't think that was a good idea.
Kim Crenshaw:
I think, Rhanda, this is something that many of the other mothers have also experienced. They are at the scene where their daughter's lives are hanging in the balance.
Rhanda Dormeus:
Yes.
Kim Crenshaw:
This is your child.
Rhanda Dormeus:
Yes.
Kim Crenshaw:
Share with listeners what the experience is of knowing your daughter is in danger and the police are the ones that are keeping you from protecting her.
Rhanda Dormeus:
Well, for me, it was overwhelming. It was extremely overwhelming because my daughter and I had a good relationship and I know her hearing from me, things could've been different. But to have them there keeping me at bay, I wasn't even allowed to go down to the scene where her building was to even let her know that I was there, so I couldn't speak to her verbally on the phone. I couldn't go down to even let her ... scream out on a bullhorn that I was there. To be there and not know ... Because, see, I didn't know ... Even when she was murdered, I didn't know that she was murdered until about 10 or 15 minutes after it had happened.
Rhanda Dormeus:
As I'm leaving off the church steps I see the officer that had been with us all day coming up the pathway. Now, mind you, we didn't hear any ambulances. They had ambulances on standby I'm sure, but even when everything was going on, once they knew she was hit and all that stuff, there was no commotion, it seemed, outside that would've indicated that anything had happened. So when I got down to the officer, I said, "What's going on? Where did everybody go?" I said, "Where's my daughter?" His words to me were, "She gone." She was gone. She's gone.
Kim Crenshaw:
That's what he ... That's how they told you?
Rhanda Dormeus:
He said, "She's gone." I remember, I still have the scar, I dropped to my knees on that ... It was like a gravel type of pavement. I dropped to my knees and I thought I was going to lose my mind because I couldn't believe that this man was telling me that my baby was gone. I really, really couldn't.
Kim Crenshaw:
Oh, my god.
Rhanda Dormeus:
But then he followed up with that my grandson was shot as well, so now I have to pull myself together and get ready to go to my grandson.
Kim Crenshaw:
Oh, my god. Rhanda, I mean, was there a sense of inevitability in the way that he said it? Was there any human recognition that he was telling a mother that they had just killed her daughter?
Rhanda Dormeus:
He said, "She's gone," and that was it. Then he walked away.
Rhanda Dormeus:
I think Officer Royce Ruby saw her as a problem because during the trial all of the other officers said that she posed no threat to them. They weren't ready to do that. As a matter of fact, the ambulance attendant is known by family members and it was stated that when he got there he heard them having a disagreement asking, "Why did he shoot?" Asked the other officer, "Why did you shoot? Why did you shoot?" Because, one, he even admitted he couldn't see her. He shot through a wall.
Kim Crenshaw:
What is the answer to why?
Rhanda Dormeus:
He said that he thought she was going fire on them because he couldn't see it. Then he said he thought that she was going to hurt Kodi. When they got in there she was making him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Kim Crenshaw:
I'm so sorry.
Rhanda Dormeus:
He said the reason why he shot was because he saw her braids and what he thought was the barrel of the gun coming up.
Kim Crenshaw:
What?
Rhanda Dormeus:
His own witness ... The witness for the state, for them, they paid about $80,000 for this guy to be there for two weeks and he said that there was no way that he could see her from where she was hit. When she was hit, she was standing there at the counter, she was hit in her back. So how do you hit somebody in the back that's holding a gun towards you? How?
Kim Crenshaw:
So she was shot in the back?
Rhanda Dormeus:
She was shot on the right ... I think it said the bullet entered the right medium side of her back and went through both of her lungs and her aorta, and then his own officers on the stand said when they were asked, "What did you see Officer Royce Ruby do next?" That he went and stood over her and engaged her three more times center mass.
Kim Crenshaw:
What? What?
Rhanda Dormeus:
That's what was given in the statement in the testimony at the trial.
Kim Crenshaw:
Just to be clear, engaged her means ...
Rhanda Dormeus:
Shot her.
Kim Crenshaw:
He shot her?
Rhanda Dormeus:
Yes.
Kim Crenshaw:
After she was down?
Rhanda Dormeus:
Yes.
Kim Crenshaw:
That's just murder.
Rhanda Dormeus:
Yes. Yes.
Kim Crenshaw:
His justification for that was?
Rhanda Dormeus:
His first statement that he put out was that he felt like his comrades' lives were in danger. Then somebody must've gotten to him and told him, "No, you should've said your life was in danger." Then he changed it to his life was in danger. Then ultimately at the depositions, he said that he felt that Korryn could've killed Kodi. Even-
Kim Crenshaw:
After he had shot her?
Rhanda Dormeus:
After he had shot her and shot Kodi twice. And shot Kodi twice. So while Kodi was running, the bullets were ricocheting and hitting ... The one that hit him in his face, thank god that was a ricochet, but the one that him in the elbow was an actual AR ... What is it? I forget. I can't remember what the model of the rifle is, but it tore his whole elbow out. He'll never be able to do push-ups. His elbow has been rebuilt.
Kim Crenshaw:
How old was Kodi at the time?
Rhanda Dormeus:
Kodi was five. Yeah.
Kim Crenshaw:
Rhanda, this is, again, so unimaginable for so many mothers, and at the same time, what does sound imaginable is the desire to punish. Not because Korryn represented a threat, but an annoyance.
Rhanda Dormeus:
Yes.
Kim Crenshaw:
Who is this black woman-
Rhanda Dormeus:
Yes.
Kim Crenshaw:
... not to follow our commands?
Rhanda Dormeus:
Yes.
Kim Crenshaw:
Who is this black woman to be spouting stuff that we don't understand? Who is this black woman to think that she can say no to us?
Rhanda Dormeus:
Right. And you know-
Kim Crenshaw:
At the end of the day.
Rhanda Dormeus:
And you know what? That was another thing about Sandra Bland's documentary that really moved me when I heard Geneva say how outspoken- she was going to cuss and she was going to vent and she was going to ... That was Korryn. When she felt like she was being wronged she would unleash. She would say, "Look, you're not doing this shit to me. Who do you think you are?" You know? That was a comparison between her and Sandy because they both were activists. They both wanted to let people know how we as African-American people feel about the way we are treated by law enforcement, and she wanted to awaken us to the real world.
Korryn Livestream, March 2016: Korryn: He’s seen videos of you shooting people who look like his father and shit, so don’t talk to him. And it’s not funny, it’s really not funny. Police: The way you’re raising your children is really not funny Korryn: It’s not funny
Kim Crenshaw:
And I would say perhaps another comparison, I just wanted to get your thoughts on this. There were people when Sandy Bland was killed who would say, "Well, you know, she brought it on herself. She gave him attitude," and I'm sure some people say the same thing about Korryn.
Rhanda Dormeus:
More than some.
Kim Crenshaw:
What do you say to those people who say, "Well, if she had acted differently, she'd still be alive?"
Rhanda Dormeus:
Well, you know, in my opinion, most of those people who have those opinions or have that perspective, they're not even at risk of being remotely as close to what Korryn was dealing with, or what Sandy was dealing with, because a lot of them are privileged. You do have some of our own African-Americans that feel like that, but again, they a lot of times aren't in touch with what really is happening around them because they haven't been affected. It doesn't even have to be by death. It could just be by the encounter.
So a lot of people who have been able to avoid the encounter with the police, they don't understand. I don't want them to understand to the degree that I do, but they need to understand what's going on around them. I have people in my life that are dear to me that when Freddie Gray got killed, living right around the corner from the incident, they didn't realize how corrupt the system was because, again, they have never had any interactions with them. They don't have any family members that had interactions with them like that, and they don't pay attention to what's going on around them.
Kim Crenshaw:
And I'm wondering, too, since you've been part of the Say Her Name movement dealing with women who are killed by the police, thinking about some gender issues that come up here. Philando Castile was killed, and he had a gun, and people have been very supportive of his right to bear arms and not lose his life because of it. Do you think that people have less of a sense about Korryn's right to bear arms and not lose her life because of it, because she's a woman?
Rhanda Dormeus:
Absolutely. I think that was the number one thing. "What is she doing with a gun anyway? Why does she have a gun? She's not a man. She shouldn't have a gun."
Rhanda Dormeus:
The whole stigma behind a woman and being powerful and standing up for themselves was demonstrated with Korryn because, again, a lot of people were totally opposed to her even standing her ground when she was confronting the officers. Some people have a issue with that. No, that's not the way you choose to deal with it, because you don't know the harassment. You don't know living in the hood how the officers will bother you, or if you look like you don't fit in, because it's a reputable neighborhood, and I happen to live here. Trayvon Martin.
But because she was a woman, those things didn't matter. It's just the fact that you didn't listen. "Who are you not to listen? You weak woman. You weak little woman," because my daughter was tiny. She was tiny. 5'2", 106 pounds soaking wet. She was tiny.
Kim Crenshaw:
Rhanda, we want to talk about the lives that should've been, and think about what one thing that if on that day it had happened differently, or even before that, if there's one thing that you could go back into time and change that you think would've changed the outcome and would've placed Korryn right here on this earth right now. Thinking on that, what do you think that one thing could've been?
Rhanda Dormeus:
I don't know. You know, I've asked myself that over and over and over again. I thought I had the answers at one time. Like I could probably say one particular thing ... I don't know. Just ... I don't know.
Kim Crenshaw:
Do you think that if you had been able to talk to her directly that day ...
Rhanda Dormeus:
Yeah. Yeah. I believe that could've been possible. I even told them, "I will go in there." I said, "I will sign something releasing the department from any responsibility if anything happens to me." I said that to them. "Let me go in and I can bring her out."
Kim Crenshaw:
What do you imagine you could've or would've said when you went in?
Rhanda Dormeus:
I don't know. I just know she wasn't trusting of the police, and ...
Kim Crenshaw:
And she trusted you.
Rhanda Dormeus:
And she trusted me. I know I would not have told her that ... I don't know. It's just so hard. It's so hard because I do this all the time, and none of my thoughts can ever come true, so it's hard to ... I put them in position all the time, different scenarios. Sometimes it overwhelms me, me doing the scenarios, until I realize that the scenarios don't count now because she's not here.
Kim Crenshaw:
Once again it seems as though Black family bonds, Black love - there’s a sense in which this feels very familiar, and I’m wondering if you have some thoughts about this. We come from a history in which our familial bonds to one another was dismissed, disregarded. We weren't seen as being traumatized by being separated from people that we love. We weren't seen as having true human connections and emotions with one another. I'm wondering whether in the different moments, ranging from your initial encounters with the police, to the way they told you that they had killed Korryn, to the way that the officer who killed Korryn sort of described her, to the way he continued to assault her even though a child was there ... Do you see in this treatment of your family a similar, long pattern of utterly disregarding the humane and human connections that black people have with one another?
Rhanda Dormeus:
Well, to answer that, first of all, you have to be considered human for a person to accept that you may have a human connection, and so if you're not looked at as human in the first place, the connection is lost there. They don't believe that we have any connection or commitment to one another to the point where we would be traumatized with the loss, or traumatized with the separation. I don't even think they take those things into consideration because I don't believe folks think that we're human, that we have that type of ability to have a bond. You know, they've been ripping us apart from one another all these years. I guess they think we should be used to it.
They don't feel like it was ever established from my perspective. If that's something that they're used to seeing, and at one point it as acceptable because we had no choice but to scream and cry because our children were being snatched from us, or our husbands were being sold, or whatever the case. We weren't considered human then with a connection.
So I don't think we've ever been really, except amongst us and a few others, we have never been considered human enough to have that kind of connection that breaks us down.
Kim Crenshaw:
We've been saying, Rhanda, that the killing of your daughters is just the first loss, the first killing, the first erasure, and then there's a second one that comes after that. Can you describe then what it's like for yourself, and some of the other mothers who have lost daughters?
Rhanda Dormeus:
Absolutely. Fortunately, I was retired. I didn't have to work but I was a registered nurse. If I had to work now with the way my mind is set up, I wouldn't want me being in control of anybody's life right now. I wouldn't want that because the mental depression is profound. A lot of the mothers who were working were no longer able to work because physically and mentally, they could not focus or function well enough to maintain employment.
Gina Best, she's working now, but it took her years after India Kager was murdered by Virginia Beach Police with her grandson in the car, struggled. I watched her struggle. She watched me struggle. We watched each other and other mothers struggle with trying to just get a grasp on what was considered a life at one time. I had things that I enjoyed before my daughter died. I no longer find joy in them. I'm trying to figure out how to get back to me. We lose ourselves. Our families lose parts of themselves when things like this happen, when our daughter are murdered. When our melanated sisters and femmes and trans are murdered.
I deal with my children and their depression. I have two daughters left and a son. I deal with this all the time. People call me, family members. Sometimes they don't want to call me because they're so in grief they don't want to bring me down, but they miss her. They miss her presence. They miss her light. And she had those things. But people will never know it because they're making a blanket judgment because of what media puts out there. You don't know what she meant to us.
Kim Crenshaw:
So talk to us about the meaning of coming together as mothers and sisters of women who've been killed by the police. One of the things that I remember hearing being shared among you all is how surprised some of the mothers are to find out that they're not alone, that actually women do get killed by the police because they don't see it reported. There's not recognition that it happens for the longest time. Only men's names were mentioned that gave then mothers the sense that not only did it just not happen to women, their daughters must have been exceptional in some way that made them stand out as targets of the police. So what is that experience like when you are able to come together with other mothers who are experiencing the same tragedy?
Rhanda Dormeus:
We didn't even know most of us existed. Tanisha Anderson, at the time, I didn't know who Tanisha Anderson was. Cassandra's child, I didn't know who she was. And so, when you meet other people who have walked the walk with you and they know your pain, and you get together and you don't have to open your mouth. You can look at each other. You just can sense the pain that each one of us have felt in our experiences. That's the beauty of AAPF because you guys bring us together so we can have some familiarity with each other. We don't have to question each other about how we feel because we each know how each other feels.
Rhanda Dormeus:
You guys allow us to come together, congregate, laugh, cry, whatever we need to do, but we’re our own- what can I say? We're our own village. We're a separate entity and that's the way it feels. It's like we're a special group because again, when the men are killed, the men are uplifted. You hear about these men. You know their lives, you know their families because it's going to be placed in front of you. But with our daughters, we have to make sure that we uplift our daughters and we do it collectively because there's strength in numbers and that's what AAPF does for us. So just being able to be with the mothers like I said, who I didn't even know existed, is a powerful, powerful thing for me because I know that when I'm with them, I can be myself.
If I want to cry and snot, it's okay because ... I mean, it's been times that I have been so broken and I be going through the supermarket crying, snotting and people looking at me like I'm crazy. If it was a supermarket filled with us, they would just come and hold me. They wouldn't ask any questions because they know. Even though I don't expect people who really don't know to know, but what I'm saying is, being around people who know makes the load a lot lighter to bear. It does.
Kim Crenshaw:
In this episode, Rhanda spoke about two levels of loss. First, the death itself, and then the second level, the erasure of this tragedy. But there's a third level of loss, the loss of Korryn’s character and that of her family in the aftermath of their successful wrongful death suit. Critics have said that the family is simply seeking attention in suing the police department. What she tells us is that even after a successful judgment is won, even after they're proven right in a court of law, winning that case doesn't mean that they win in the court of public opinion. What sticks out in my memory is how Rhanda learned about the fact that the officers had killed her daughter while she was standing outside waiting to talk to her. I can't... I just couldn't imagine. I just couldn't imagine being in her shoes, and at the same time, I felt like I was standing there with her when she talked about dropping to her knees when they told her her daughter was gone. There were so many things that I did not fully know or didn't totally comprehend — the fact that the police were responsible for Korryn’s loss of her twins and the fact that that's just not part of the way that the story is told. This is a woman who, because of a minor traffic violation, first lost her twins and then lost her own life. It's just hard to wrap your head around that tragedy. The other feeling that I had listening to Rhanda is just how incredibly courageous she is to share this story with all of us, to open up her heart every time she tells this story, and she does it both in the memory of Korryn and also to make sure that we understand what this loss means and what we have to do in order to make sure that as they say — the mothers of Say Her Name — that no other woman ever has to join this sorority of sorrow. It's always been the case that to challenge social injustice means that you're putting yourself in a situation in which you might experience violence, other kinds of harms. It's easier, people might think, to just sit it out and not protest, not make your voice heard. But if during Jim Crow, people had just decided to go along with the program, if during the time when black people couldn't vote, they decided to just give up all aspirations to exercising political power, if during the time when we weren't able to do or travel anywhere we wanted to, people just accommodated their desires to what was possible, our lives would be completely different today. They would be lesser today than what they are. So we need to take that understanding about how resistance in the past brought us to this moment and think about what we have to do today in order to create a tomorrow where there are no Korryn Gaines, where there are no Tanisha Andersons, where all of what we've talked about today will be ancient history. The only way that happens is if we reject the idea that the only thing we can do is be safe by not protesting. We have to put our bodies where our hopes and aspirations are. We want to hear from you. Email us intersectionalitymatters@aapf.org and tell us your story. Keep listening and support us on our patreon page for bonus content from all of our interviews. You can find us at aapf.org or @aapolicyforum on Instagram and Twitter, and everywhere podcasts are available. Intersectionality Matters is recorded and produced by Julia Sharpe-Levine, edited by Julia Sharpe-Levine and Alex Schein with consulting help from Thea Chaloner. Additional support provided by Janine Jackson, Naimah Hakim, G’Ra Asim, Kevin Minofu, and Madeline Cameron Wardleworth. Special thanks to Stacia Brown and Rebecca Scheckman for recording today's episode, and Rhonda Dormeus for allowing us to interview her. I'm your host, Kimberle Crenshaw.