Over the last week, I have been flooded with calls from friends, family, and people across our network of healers. Many of them have asked me how I’m doing, many have asked for support. I’ve heard fear, rage, grief, anxiety, and confusion. All have told me how tired they are.
So they reached out, because they know that in times like these, one thing is always true: we need care and community.
We have been through a lot together these last several months. The presidential election brought dangerous, harmful rhetoric into the open, including racist attacks on communities like mine. Our neighborhoods and families have continued to face challenges and tragedies. Now we know that the next president is a person who has promised cuts to programs our communities rely on, and been open about plans to attack people many of us love. We expect an agenda that breaks apart community, rather than building it.
That means our work to show up for each other is more important than ever.
It is okay to feel however you feel right now. I want you to know that no matter what, you are not alone, because we are in this together.
Take a moment now to notice your breath. Breathing in, notice what it’s like to be alive in this body, in this moment. Breathing out, let any tension soften, even if it’s just a little bit. Take a few more intentional breaths, knowing our community of care is breathing together.
Healing justice reminds us that collective trauma requires collective healing, and that our ancestors and our local communities are wellsprings of knowledge and medicine. So gather your people, and as you do, you are welcome to try any of these practices we come back to over and over again in our healing spaces and retreats:
Accountabili-Tea is a simple practice that can help you meet yourself right where you are. Create the blend that you need and consider giving your creation a name.
A little lavender or chamomile aids in relaxation. Lighting a candle, applying essential oils, or lighting incense can all bring you a sense of calm and peace.
Sometimes, a walk to a favorite place is just the right reset or escape. Water is my happy place, so that’s where I go. Where’s that place for you? Whether you can get there physically or close your eyes and travel mentally, take the time to go.
Journaling can help ground anxiety, clarify emotions, and surface insight. Take 5-10 minutes to write about what’s on your mind. If you’re with others, share about how it felt.
No matter what is ahead, we know that our work together will continue. Whether you’re working to end the death penalty, protect and heal your community, or both, our community of care will be here with you.
This morning we woke to heaviness and uncertainty. We cannot predict the future, but there is no denying: we elected a president who promised retribution, who dehumanized so many people, and who spewed blatant hate and harm. It remains to be seen how deep and how wide the impact will be of this election, but the fear—especially for those most marginalized and demonized—is real.
We have to sit with that. And we should pause and absorb the pain of that reality.
But I want to offer something: we have been through this before. We have been pushing the boulder of true justice and racial equity up the hill since the founding of this country. History has taught us repeatedly that progress up the hill is often followed by rollback.
From the promise of Reconstruction when Black people gained representation and power after slavery, and the backlash of Jim Crow; to the progress of the Civil Rights Movement and the regressive policies that led to the war on drugs and mass incarceration. We stand on the shoulders of so many who persisted in the work at far greater risk with far fewer resources.
They succeeded because they worked together and found power in community. That will ultimately be the cure to the pain we feel: care for one another and power in community.
We are here with you right now. Our EJUSA community is built on a vision of healing and safety for all, a vision where violence is rare and we collectively reject anti-Blackness and racism of every kind.
The playing field for 2025 and beyond will be much different than we had hoped. But our fundamental goal remains the same. Safety is always on the ballot. Each and every one of us wants to be safe.
Our healing approach to safety will be critical given all that we’ve experienced and all that is to come. And the essence of community safety doesn’t change. For everyone, everywhere, the ingredients to thrive include good jobs, affordable housing, quality education, health care, and much more.
I hope it helps to remind you that this is not our first election. EJUSA has been around for more than 30 years. We have team members who have been with us for 15 and even 20 years, weathering the impact of elections from cities to states to our federal representatives. We are already planning how to meet the challenge while always holding firm to our values and our core mission.
We will heal those who heal their communities. We will drive funding into those same communities to strengthen the solutions they built that bring them safety. We will challenge the violence of today’s criminal legal system. And we will tell the story of all this work so others can know that there is a different pathway to safety.
We will continue to make an impact through care and community.
Please invest in this mission. I hope you can see how vital it will be in the months and years to come, as we heal together from this election.
(October 7, 2024) — Equal Justice USA (EJUSA) announced today that it will partner with four new communities to build new restorative justice diversion programs. These programs serve as an offramp for youth, protecting them from the harsh punishment of the criminal legal system while still creating an accountability process that identifies root causes and provides an opportunity for healing both for the person harmed and the person who has caused harm.
“Restorative justice is an essential pillar of the growing movement toward community-led public safety solutions and away from the failings of policing, prosecutions, and prisons,” said Jamila Hodge, CEO of Equal Justice USA. “We will never punish our way to safety, but the healing that restorative justice offers does chart the path to safety and well-being.”
The organizations in this Restorative Justice Diversion Roots Cohort are located in Hinds County, MS; Richmond, VA; Oakland County, MI; and Pulaski County, AR. EJUSA will provide training and technical support to these organizations as they build out their programs over the coming year and begin to work directly with young people and those impacted by harm in the community.
“Developing partnerships in these four communities allows us to expand our restorative justice diversion work in the Southern and Midwestern regions of the country– areas that will strengthen the national representation of our Restorative Justice Diversion Collaborative and tend to the areas of our country experiencing the heaviest resurgence of tough-on-crime backslides,” said Cymone Fuller, Senior Restorative Justice Director at EJUSA. “We are excited about all of the possibilities ahead with these new partnerships and are grateful for the opportunity to advance pathways to meaningful healing and accountability for more communities.”
For the next 10 months, members of the local organizations and their legal system referral partners will come together with support from EJUSA to develop their programs and participate in training opportunities that will prepare them for program implementation. These four communities join the existing 10 that EJUSA’s Restorative Justice Project is already working with, located in cities and counties in California, Louisiana, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, Virginia, and Washington.
Please direct any media inquiries to Jon Crane, 203-982-4575, joncrane@criticalpr.com
Five men, all of them executed over the previous seven days. The last time we had so much state-sponsored killing was in 2003. It has been a horrific week, and I suspect you feel the same heaviness that all of us at EJUSA carry.
I reject every execution, every death sentence, any and every form of violence that serves as punishment for a harm committed. But I need to talk about Khaliifah and Emmanuel.
Oklahoma killed Emmanuel yesterday—not because he killed anyone but because he was present during a robbery during which someone was killed. This law is called felony murder and it is responsible for some of the most egregious injustices of our time.
This past Tuesday, Missouri killed Khaliifah despite compelling DNA evidence that he was innocent of the murder that put him on death row…despite the prosecuting office that secured his conviction in 2001 petitioning the courts to overturn that conviction…despite more than one million people urging the governor to stop a gross miscarriage of justice.
How is it possible that we live in a country that can kill one innocent man and another who didn’t kill anyone, in the span of a week?
Dehumanization makes it possible.
Dehumanization made slavery possible. It made lynchings possible, followed by Jim Crow laws and systemic oppression. And dehumanization has made it possible for the U.S. to put more people in prisons and jails than any other nation.
Our criminal legal system was designed to disregard and ignore the humanity of the people it punishes. This belief that some of us are unworthy and disposable shows up throughout the system, but it is glaring in the death penalty.
Someday we will end the death penalty in this country. I hope you believe that as much as I do. But that is not enough.
We have changed laws and policies, but that doesn’t erase the anti-blackness weaved into the fabric of this country. Anti-blackness, classism, and other forms of division makes dehumanization and all that follows it easy.
We have to change hearts. We have to embrace the truth that every one of us is human, has dignity, and deserves grace and love. We have to care for every one of our neighbors and want for them the same healing we would want for ourselves when we hurt.
In honor of each of these men whose lives were taken, I hope we can work together to change hearts, even if it’s one at a time.
Just a few weeks ago, I flew to Bogalusa, Louisiana, to join several team members for a special day. They had spent the last year working with community members on a groundbreaking public safety plan.
On the plane, I continued reading “The Movement Made Us,” David J. Dennis Jr.’s account of his father’s essential civil rights work in Mississippi and Louisiana in the 1960s. The elder Dennis had worked in Bogalusa, and in the book he debunked the idea that small town Southerners had to be taught to organize. He found a movement in full swing in Bogalusa.
His work was a reminder that the fight for justice and racial equity is never new—we are following in the footsteps of those who have been organizing for generations.
Arriving in Bogalusa with this knowledge, I felt steeped in the local history and the deep-rooted challenges its residents face today. What struck me most was how personal the violence in the community feels.
In a city this small, there is no distance between the people who have been harmed and those responsible for the harm. You know the names and the faces, and that closeness carries both pain and hope. I met leaders like Khlilia Daniels, the founder of Forever Takes a Village, who told me how the violence has become normalized, but who also spoke of a renewed sense of possibility.
What I saw in Bogalusa were people who are already hard at work—organizing youth programs, advocating for safer streets, and building opportunities for healing—all with little support. These are efforts driven by passion, often funded from the pockets of the people leading these efforts. But it’s not enough.
The challenges are immense, and the resources are few. Bogalusa doesn’t have an endless list of nonprofits or a steady stream of funding. What it does have is resilience, history, and a belief that together, change is possible.
After an inspiring day of advocacy and shared learning, I found myself asking, “How can we do more? How do we bring the attention and funding that Bogalusa and other rural communities so desperately need? How do we build sustainable support to keep the momentum going?”
Because while the problems are great, the hope and determination in Bogalusa are greater.
I left Bogalusa with a deep commitment to stand with this community, to partner with them in building pathways to healing. We’ve started this work with Our Roadmap for Change, but it is just the beginning. Please take a few minutes to read the report.
With your support, we can ensure that Bogalusa continues to move toward a future where every family, every neighborhood, and every child has the opportunity to thrive and be safe.
Jen Pagan (she/her) is a Restorative Approaches Specialist with the Center for Restorative Approaches facilitating restorative circles and training school faculty and staff in restorative approaches. Sierra Scott recently sat down with Jen to talk about restorative justice practices and what it is like to facilitate restorative justice circles.
Can you describe what restorative justice means to you and how it differs from the traditional criminal legal system?
The traditional legal system says “you break this rule, you get this punishment.” And someone who is not involved or impacted decides whether you are guilty and what punishment you will receive. Restorative justice (RJ) is egalitarian and holistic – centered in empathy and focused on the needs of those involved. It is not investigatory in order to prove if you are innocent or guilty, rather the RJ process asks questions to get each person’s perspective on what happened and how people have been impacted by what happened to reach resolution or agreement by consensus. RJ aims to repair the harm that has occurred, not just dish out a punishment with a disregard to the needs of those impacted.
Every case has different people with different needs and there are unlimited strategies to get those needs met. RJ gives each person involved in the circle a say in how to get their needs met and how to repair the harm. It doesn’t rely on someone in power to dictate what needs to happen; it relies on the wisdom and experience of those directly involved to settle the matter based on what they need to move forward, have the harm repaired and to heal.
What are some of the ways you help individuals identify and articulate what they need to repair the harm they have experienced?
In the preparation process, through the restorative questions, I ask them questions and just listen. If needed, I ask more follow up questions to help them fully explore their thoughts and feelings to get to what they need to repair the harm done. I also give them space to reflect – sometimes it takes two or three prep sessions to figure it out and we don’t set any constraining timelines because each person moves through the process at a different pace and we honor each person’s journey.
What do you enjoy most about working with youth in conflict? How do you approach facilitating conflicts between young people?
Most conflicts with young people are based on misunderstandings or not knowing someone. I love witnessing the “aha“ moments when a young person in conflict realizes how their misunderstanding or misjudgment leads them to a certain thought which makes them feel negatively towards the other person which dictates their action towards that other person. My favorite question to ask them is ,“What could you have done differently?” and thenseeing them make the connection between their thoughts, feelings and actions.
How do you address the cultural differences and unique backgrounds of the youth you work with to ensure their needs are met?
In preparation, we discuss anything that may be a factor in creating a safe space where everyone has an equal opportunity to express their perspective and what they need. I simply ask and honor their response. The RJ process is intentionally inclusive and will only bring people together if we can create a space where no additional harm will occur.
How do you adapt the restorative justice process to accommodate the dynamic needs of the person harmed, ensuring their voices are heard and respected?
There is no need to adapt the process – it is centered on the persons harmed and getting their needs met. We prep, prep, prep! We take our time with the prep step process, intentionally asking often what they need to feel comfortable in the circle and ensure they have support in the circle if needed and ask them if they would like to speak first – in addition to fully exploring what they need to repair the harm, heal and move forward.
How do you define an effective apology within the context of restorative justice? Can you share an example of a meaningful apology you’ve witnessed in a circle?
Apologies are very personal and need to feel genuine and authentic. You cannot force someone to apologize. Sometimes we practice them in prep before going to circle if someone struggles with offering apologies. Most people when they hear how someone has been impacted by their actions in a negative way shift from protecting themselves (out of fear of being punished) to empathy and the apology just flows. I’ve witnessed countless meaningful apologies in circles over the last 8 years so it is hard to choose one. But I will say that the most meaningful part of the circle for me is always the moment of silence before we transition from the “What Happened? & Who was affected and how?” section into the “What needs to happen to make things right or agreement” section. I’ll ask, “Is there anything that needs to be said that hasn’t been before we move on to making agreements?” And that is where the magic happens – meaningful, authentic, genuine apologies tend to take place here and you can feel the energy shift to healing happen.
How do youth typically respond to being held accountable in a restorative justice process as opposed to being punished?
The two most common observations I have both rely on the structure of the RJ process ensuring the needs of the participants are being met. They are:
Their willingness to participate and/or accept responsibility for the harm they have caused is amplified when they are listened to and their experience is validated. I often get the response, “Thank you for listening,” or “No one ever listens when something happens and you actually listen to me.” This meets their need to be seen, heard, acknowledged and by having those needs met then their need for respect and fairness is also met.
The other response I see is how quickly they experience empathy – whether giving or receiving it – when hearing the impact of the harm on others as well as hearing how the impact of harming someone else has on the person who is responsible for the harm. Once they understand the other person’s perspective and the impact of what happened, they typically shift to having empathy for one another and resolving the conflict and repairing the harm.
What practices or strategies do you employ for self-care to maintain your well-being while facilitating restorative justice processes?
As facilitators, we take time to debrief with one another – particularly on tough cases. It’s helpful to have someone listen to you and give you perspective if needed. But mostly, it helps you let go of the emotions you have been holding for others and helps you feel supported in the process. Often when I finish a long day of prep or I am feeling emotionally drained from prepping participants or facilitating a circle, I take a half hour walk as soon as possible after I am done.
Each facilitator has their own way of decompressing and practicing self-care but I think the main tool I employ is mindfulness so I am acutely attuned to when I need to amp up the self care. For me, maintaining my own well being is being intentional with what I need in the moment which is why mindfulness is so key to my self-care. It helps me discern what would be most impactful in the moment to feel centered and my personal strategies include dancing, a nap, working with my hands – like making homemade pasta or gardening, getting a massage or pedicure, playing with my dog, playing tennis, watching the sunset on the bayou or riding my Vespa at the lake.
At the Restorative Justice Project of EJUSA, we understand that the strength of our work lies not in individual efforts but in the collective power of our team and partners. Our approach is deeply rooted in collaboration, where each aspect of our work is interconnected and mutually reinforcing, creating a holistic and transformative impact across communities nationwide.
Building Restorative Justice Diversion (RJD) Programs and Partnerships
We provide training, technical assistance, and peer-to-peer support to communities across the nation interested in building front-end restorative justice diversion programs. With our technical assistance, community based organizations develop diversion partnerships with local criminal and youth legal system agencies that refer cases for restorative justice in place of criminal prosecution. To do so, we support the creation of data-driven Memorandums of Understanding, which clearly outline diversion criteria and partnership responsibilities. We assist in creating plans for fundraising, staffing, case referral, communications, and data collection. We deliver targeted training to both community-based organizations and their system partners, ensuring all parties understand their roles in the program. We, even after the program’s launch, continue to offer support by troubleshooting case-specific and general program operations, helping to ensure the long-term success and effectiveness of these critical initiatives.
Transformative Learning Spaces
Our team is deeply committed to creating transformative and experiential learning spaces for our partners in this work as they seed a nationwide movement for restorative justice. We work to continuously develop and strengthen our curriculum offerings and facilitation skills and ensure both are grounded in our core learning values. These values include orienting around collective wisdom, as well as centering radical belonging and accessibility. We provide a series of restorative justice facilitation trainings to our community-based organization partners, beginning with community circle keeping knowing that community and relationship building is the foundation to restorative justice, and then followed by restorative approaches to harm and restorative community conferencing. We also provide trainings for our referring system partners on restorative pathways to healing, as well as operationalizing diversion and referral processes. We know that we learn and grow best in community where we feel fully seen, heard, and supported – this is our goal for each and every learning space we hold.
Nurturing a National RJD Movement
We have the honor of bringing our partners together for peer learning through the National Restorative Justice Diversion Collaborative where folks working on RJD in their own communities can connect with others across the country. Together, they are able to share learned lessons, celebrate successes, troubleshoot challenges, and cultivate a movement for community-held justice, accountability, and healing. The collaborative generates space for deep connection for community based practitioners and system partners separately and creates opportunity for cross pollination amongst the two. The collaborative is seeding a transformative movement to actualize their vision of a future of justice and healing in communities across the nation. Through the Collaborative, we are gifted with the reminder of what transformative work is possible when none of us feel alone in it.
Advancing the Needs of the Restorative Justice Field
Building up restorative justice diversion as a sustainable community-held practice to address harm, promote accountability, and support healing requires us to do more than just develop RJD programs. With over a decade of learning alongside our partners across the country, it is evident that there is more need for the field to evolve to understand and address the key challenges and opportunities for RJD to exist as an effective and sustainable solution. To that end, we are working to ensure that the lessons we’ve learned are channeled into the areas where they can have the greatest impact.
We are supporting the development of policy coalitions that can identify and advocate for policies that help break down barriers to effective community-held restorative justice practices and ensure that all community members that desire restorative justice as a process to address harm are able to access it. We are working with academic and research spaces that are interested in studying and evaluating restorative justice practices to do so in a manner that uplifts RJ practitioners as experts and utilizes participatory research methods to account for and try to prevent the way that academic research disconnected from practice can actually hurt and limit the comprehensive work of restorative justice. We are seeking to advise funders and other partners about what we have learned about resourcing community-held RJD and supporting its ability to sustain and thrive. All together we are working on sharing and utilizing our lessons in the areas where they can influence efforts to nourish the fertile ground needed for restorative justice diversion to thrive.
At EJUSA, the Restorative Justice Project is more than the sum of its parts. Our work is a tapestry woven from the threads of each team member’s contributions, creating a stronger, more resilient fabric that supports the entire movement. By embracing collaboration and collective action, we are building a future where justice and healing are not just ideals but realities that can be achieved together.
I will remember this summer for many things, but three stand out: roller-coaster politics, the Olympics, and the heat. My goodness, the heat.
When the heat won’t quit, I want to be in the water. I grew up not far from the ocean, learned to swim in a pool at a young age, grew comfortable in the waves, and learned to spot a rip tide and avoid danger. Whether it’s saltwater or fresh, floating on top or slicing just below the surface, the water always feels restorative.
I take that comfort with the water for granted. A beautiful new mini-documentary made me realize how fortunate that experience is. Black Stroke tells the story of three Black adults in England learning to swim, overcoming fear and health concerns to do something they’ve always wanted to do.
In Great Britain, more than 85% of Black adults, youth, and children cannot swim. Here in the U.S., 64% of Black youth and children cannot swim, a figure 24% higher than white children. (USA Swimming Foundation Announces 5-10 Percent Increase in Swimming Ability, 2017)
Racial disparities don’t just happen. Not in this country. A not-new book explains a lot.
“Contested Waters: A Social History of Swimming Pools in America” tells the fascinating stories of community pools. Cities and towns started building pools in the late 1800s, less for swimming and more for bathing. People experiencing poverty didn’t always have access to bathing facilities, so local leaders decided to step in.
These pools were located in urban areas and segregated but by gender, not race. This didn’t last, though. The first municipal pool to explicitly restrict Black access opened in 1915 in St. Louis.
Suggestion to edit: In the 1920s and 30s, pool construction increased in small towns and big cities nationwide, with literally thousands of pools. Racism played a huge role in where these pools were built and how they operated. The Highland Park Pool in Pittsburgh is a great example.
The facility – actually two pools, one a wading pool – opened in 1931. Thousands flocked to the site on opening day, including many Black residents. Officials took a page from the Jim Crow South by asking just the Black people for their “health certificates” before denying them entry.
This wouldn’t last because the city had many integrated pools. Instead, white residents and pool goers embarked on an organized campaign of violence and intimidation to keep Black residents out of the Highland Park Pool. White people would throw rocks at, punch, and violently dunk Black people, often while police officers stood by and did nothing.
This racist behavior was not restricted to one city pool; it happened all over the country. Can you imagine the trauma that would inflict? The fear and policing of swimming?
As participants in our Trauma to Trust workshop know, trauma and fear don’t exist in a vacuum. They don’t dissipate on their own. Both are passed on from one generation to another.
The harm of this is real. According to the Children’s Safety Network, Black children and youth drown at a rate nearly twice that of white children.
This is a solvable problem. We can ensure that all kids have access to swim lessons from a young age onward. We can make sure that they have access to pools nearby where they live.
Swimming is a beautiful thing. If you need a reminder, spend just 12 minutes watching Black Stroke (it’s free) to see how meaningful it can be to learn to swim, at any age. With this kind of heat, we all need the water.
Leading from the back isn’t easy…especially when the voices upfront are powerful, dynamic, and fearless.
Such was indeed the case in April when Will Simpson, EJUSA’s director of community safety and justice, had to ride behind the vortex of passionate progressive leadership that is Congresswoman Cori Bush, a brave survivor of homelessness who transcended her harsh hard times to emerge from the blood and pain of the Ferguson Uprising to the reach and interrupt the halls of the Congress; that is Congresswoman Ayanna Pressley of Boston who has been courageously and unapologetically putting the brakes of mass incarceration, now coming for Black and Brown women and girls in its sinister onslaught; and Congresswoman Katie Porter, a bold progressive repping Orange County, California, most often a bastion of privilege, conservatism, and wealth—she speaks truth to power for community in the DC battleground.
Not to mention strong community voices like Rukia Lumumba of the Movement for Black Lives, who has the painful distinction of having to organize and advocate in the starkly re-segregated, and at times quite dangerous, Jackson, Mississippi.
The April press conference was a powerful gathering that proudly brought forward the national Community Safety Agenda and its over 70 plus organizations who make up the Community Safety Working Group. This is a growing movement of community forces championing and employing what community-led approaches to violence prevention and intervention look like without the police!
The entire advocacy team spent hours before and after the press conference engaging elected officials to move this agenda forward. They held around 15-20 meetings with congressional representatives, including those from Louisiana, New Jersey, and Missouri, emphasizing the importance of these reforms and building support.
The agenda is sheltered and anchored by the paradigm-shifting Peoples Response Act (PRA), put forth by Rep. Bush. This proposed legislation places this community safety work in the federal government’s Department of Health and Human Services, under a proposed Division on Community Safety, where it belongs. The PRA provides the kind of allocation of resources to help this work reach sustainable space.
The agenda is muscled and built out by Rep. Porter’s Mental Health Justice Act, which aids state and local governments developing response programs that don’t rely on police to address people facing mental health crises, instead of the police. We see these groundbreaking programs in Denver, St. Louis, and Eugene, Oregon.
And Rep. Pressley’s Counseling Not Criminalization in Schools Act, which minimizes the police presence in schools, interrupts the school-to-prison pipeline, and instead invests in much-needed counseling supports instead. Finally, there is the Opening Doors To Youth Act, which expands employment and educational programs and resources for at-risk youth.
Congress also has the opportunity to pass the Break the Cycle of Violence Act, which directs vital funds to communities impacted by violence to help them implement evidence-based programs that stop violence, heal trauma, and prevent harm.
Will spoke near the end of the press conference and leaned into the Afro-Indigenous principles of the organization, and acknowledged the underappreciated human dimension driving all of this work, the leadership of primarily Black and Brown women, just as we saw in the George Floyd Summer, a season of protests powered by the relentless energy of these women.
Will then brought the story of Najee Seabrooks. The tragedy that ended his life exemplifies why this work is so critical and why we must continue to push forward, despite the obstacles. Najee was a young vibrant healer and violence interventionist with the Paterson Healing Collective. Paterson police officers killed him when he was experiencing a mental health crisis, even though he called his team to help him. His team came, but police blocked them from doing what they do. A different kind of crisis response, like Rep. Porter’s Mental Health Justice Act, could have prevented Najee’s death.
Since losing Najee, the New Jersey Violence Intervention and Prevention (NJVIP) coalition won a serious cat fight to get a bill through the often clueless and disconnected New Jersey State Legislature. The new measure pilots community-led emergency response teams in six New Jersey counties. The Seabrooks-Washington Bill, named after Najee and Andrew Washington, who was killed by police in Jersey City recently, was signed into law by Governor Murphy.
It will be another battle to see to it that it is properly implemented with the resources and care to details it needs to succeed.
Why has that been so difficult?
Because the bill wound up in the administrative law enforcement arms of the State Attorney General, when it really should live in the State’s Department of Health. Unfortunately, our Department of Health wasn’t ready to receive the tasks of the bill. Perhaps, with more education, they will in the near future.
The Community Safety Agenda, and in particular its anchor, the People’s Response Act, which facilitates a natural and much needed paradigm shift, properly placing this work in public health space, would give this lifesaving work the legs of sustainability it so needs and deserves
Let’s thank all of the 70+ orgs in the Community Safety Working Group that did this work, along with Reps. Bush, Porter, and Pressley.
Now how about a Reimagined Freedom Summer for Peace in our Streets!
On the morning of June 25, while attending the Giffords community violence intervention (CVI) conference, I along with several hundred other leaders, advocates, and practitioners heard the news that U.S. Surgeon General Vivek Murthy had officially announced that gun violence is a public health crisis in our country.
This was huge, a validation to so many in the room that day and across the country—the federal government was doubling down on their support to truly build successful strategies to keep all of us safe. Just last year, the Biden administration established the first federal Office of Gun Violence Prevention, led by survivors and staunch advocates for gun safety. This was now another win for those of us around the country who have been championing a public health approach to addressing gun violence in Black and Brown communities for years!
But what does it mean? Why is it important that gun violence is a public health crisis? The surgeon general’s advisory is more than a symbolic announcement. It recommends that federal, state, and local agencies allocate more funds to data and research around both current statistics of firearm violence as well as toward understanding the short- and long-term impacts of firearm violence. This advisory also urges more investment into research and implementation of evidence-based strategies being used around the country.
Support from the federal government has been key in advancing the field of CVI and broader community safety movement. But even as we feel that the surgeon general’s advisory is a validation, I must note that it was a validation of what so many have already been doing.
For decades now, national and community organizations have been using a public health approach to reduce gun violence; the idea is not new.
Understanding that gun violence is a symptom of deeper inequities and unaddressed trauma has been core to how the work has evolved—and a cornerstone of EJUSA’s mission. The antiquated strategy of using policing, prosecutions, and prisons to address gun violence has been proven ineffective because it actually fails to address the root causes of gun violence. Now, more than ever, state and local governments have begun to acknowledge that we must address root causes if we want to see safer communities. We must increase investments which strengthen our communities and reduce factors that lead to gun violence.
Jurisdictions like Mecklenburg County, NC, have begun to invest differently. The Mecklenburg Office of Violence Prevention (MOVP) is housed with the county’s health department rather than a justice-related office. Because of the investment and where the MOVP is housed, their plan is grounded in public health and emphasizes the need to address the root causes that lead to gun violence. As part of their strategy to scale initiatives that create community safety, the office has started a Peacekeepers Academy where community orgs receive financial support as well as training and technical assistance to expand the impact of their work.
EJUSA has been a part of the public safety ecosystem In Newark, NJ, since 2014. The city hit a 63-year low in homicides in 2023—after historic investments into public health approaches to gun violence. In 2021, Newark invested millions into the city’s first office of violence prevention and trauma recovery. As its name implies the office doesn’t just see violence reduction in a silo but names trauma recovery as key to building safe and well communities.
As we advance into this new era of safety, recognizing gun violence as a public health crisis is a significant milestone, but it’s just the beginning. The federal support for data-driven, evidence-based strategies affirms the relentless efforts of community and national organizations that have long advocated for this approach. By addressing the root causes of gun violence—such as systemic inequities and unaddressed trauma—we can create safer, more resilient communities.
These successes in reducing gun violence highlight the potential of public health strategies, but their application shouldn’t stop there. These principles should extend to other forms of violence as well. When we acknowledge that all violence is rooted in trauma, we can develop more comprehensive solutions. A public health approach should guide our responses to issues like domestic violence and intimate partner violence. It should be central to how we address violence in schools, including bullying, and must steer our approach to mental health crises.
Today, trauma is an ever present part of our lives, whether experienced directly or through the constant stream of news. Police violence, community violence, and political violence all contribute to this pervasive trauma. To ensure safety, we must tackle these traumas at their roots. Combating violence requires us to prioritize racial equity, expand investment into proven strategies, and maintain our commitment to a public health approach. When we do this we will all know what it means to be safe.
