For the first time, Newark officials expanded the Public Safety Awards Ceremony to recognize more than just the police department in the quest to build safer communities. EJUSA’s Will Simpson, our director of violence reduction initiatives, was just one of three honorees who is a member of the EJUSA family.
“The award really belongs to many people at EJUSA,” said Will, “Lionel LaTouche and Tracee Thomas (who run Trauma to Trust), and Zayid Muhammad (our new strategist in Newark), and plenty of others who are helping ensure that Newark is seen as a model for public safety.”
LaKeesha Eure, Newark’s Director of the Office of Violence Prevention & Trauma Recovery, was one of two members of the EJUSA Trauma & Healing Network honored on June 1. The other was Al-Tariq Best, founder of The HUBB Arts & Trauma Center.
We are proud of the recognition but far more so of our work in partnership with so many leaders to make Newark safe.
There have been two constants in Donna Roman Hernandez’s life: trauma and a deep desire to help people. Both elements are deeply entwined.
Donna served her community for 30 years as a police officer in New Jersey, retiring as a captain having commanded a domestic violence response team and police in-service domestic violence training unit.
While still in uniform, she started to study filmmaking, having always had a passion for movies. She continues to explore trauma and healing through her film production company, Blue Force Films, and her book, Battered Blue (coming in the fall of 2021), a memoir about her own experiences with trauma, domestic violence survivorship, and healing.
She brings her entire self and experience, and her storytelling expertise, to the EJUSA Trauma & Healing Network. We sat down with her to discuss her life and work.
EJUSA: What was your motivation for becoming a police officer?
Donna: I was always passionate about serving my community. My father served in law enforcement as a constable. The civil rights movement was a big motivation for me. As a child in July 1967, I watched on television the civil unrest in Newark, NJ, between residents and the police.
I saw people of color being beaten and disenfranchised, and that struck a chord in me. I felt a call to duty to do something good for my city.
EJUSA: How did you experience trauma as a police officer?
Donna: I came to the job having experienced violence and trauma in my household. My father perpetrated unspeakable acts of control and violence against me, my mother, and my siblings. I hid my bruises beneath my uniform and never disclosed the abuse. My father tried to kill me twice, and nearly succeeded one time. The abuse was my family’s dark secret.
As an Essex County Police Officer assigned to the Patrol Division, I felt empathetic to anyone who was a victim of violence, abuse, or maltreatment. I went out of my way to help and advocate for others whose rights were disenfranchised because I knew how they felt.
As a patrol officer I was often exposed to crisis and trauma. Gearing up for the road and sitting in a police car for an entire shift caused anxiety, knowing that I would be responding to emergency calls for service, accidents, and making officer-initiated car stops. I wore body armor and carried a firearm, but I also had to be mentally and physically prepared for handling crisis and chaos.
I realized that not every officer on the job thought the way I did about policing. This was due in part to the violence and trauma I experienced at an early age. I wanted to be empathetic to victims who experienced trauma and proactive about arresting and prosecuting their offenders.
My mother could see how the job and my history of abuse interfered with my overall fitness, so she suggested that I go to counseling. I took her advice.
EJUSA: How did the trauma show up in your day-to-day living?
Donna: I had hair-trigger anger from my father’s abuse that impacted my day-to-day wellness. For many years I was in dysfunctional intimate partner relationships with boyfriends who were abusive and disrespectful.
I wanted to make my mother proud of me so even though I socialized with the wrong circle of friends, I never fell prey to the evils of drug addiction or alcohol abuse. She encouraged me to pursue my educational goals and that is what I did.
EJUSA: Why did you become a filmmaker? And how did you learn to do it while still being a police officer?
Donna: I have always loved film production especially the memorable classic movies from old Hollywood. I was inspired to produce my own films, especially documentaries about people who have survived against all odds. So, years ago I went to filmmaking school and improved my writing skills. Along the way, I gained experience as a screenwriter, director, and videographer which enhanced my film production skills.
I attended a meeting for new filmmakers where people shared their reasons for being there. My reason for being a filmmaker was to fulfill a promise I made to my mother months before she died. That was to publicly share our story of survivorship to empower other victims to leave their abusers. But when it was my time to share my reason for attending the meeting I did not want to talk about the violence in my home. I ran out of the room crying uncontrollably.
I met a videographer there, though, and she volunteered her expertise to help me tell my story. I asked her who would direct it, and she said, “You will. It’s your story.”
So, I did. It took me a year and a half to make “The Ultimate Betrayal: A Survivor’s Journey.” I was amazed that so many people wanted to watch it. It won several indie film awards. And that is what I have been doing ever since.
My most recent film is called “Ronnie’s Story” (which premiered at the Asbury Park Film Festival this spring). Ronnie is an 84-year-old survivor of domestic violence and she had never told her story publicly before this documentary. She said, “If you had the courage to tell your story, I have the courage to tell mine.”
Donna Rowan speaking at Berkeley College
EJUSA: How did you come into the Trauma & Healing Network?
Donna: EJUSA contacted me to ask if I would be part of Trauma to Trust as a facilitator to assist with the training program development and to lend my law enforcement experience and trauma-informed response expertise. This training appealed to me because it brought community residents and police officers together using trauma-informed, restorative facilitation practices grounded in racial equity. As a facilitator I also provided feedback to EJUSA from the sessions to inform ongoing curriculum, program development and evaluation.
EJUSA also invited me to participate in their National Convening on Trust in the Criminal Justice System that brought together people to talk about the trauma they have experienced in the justice system and solutions that can help fuel a national dialogue about new ways to address trauma and our responses to it.
EJUSA: Is there anything you want out of the experience of being in the THN?
Donna: I am excited to be a part of the THN as we envision a transformation of our criminal justice system through trauma informed responses to violence and healing.
I want to help others learn from my experience as a survivor of domestic violence and sexual assault how to heal from long-term trauma. Also, how a trauma-informed response by law enforcement officers can help diverse communities heal from historical trauma.
As a network we want to help others, but we are there to self-heal too. We share our expertise and experiences with each other and our success stories about how we have helped individuals and communities heal from the trauma they have experienced.
All of us in the THN want everyone to live in communities where we can be free from violence and to elevate healing over retribution.
EJUSA: What do you want people to take from your stories and your work healing trauma?
Donna: What I have learned from my victimization and my work healing trauma is that recovering from trauma is a personal and complex journey. Trauma impacts the brain and body and affects survivors’ lives so strongly that it can change their perception of life.
A survivor’s ability to heal from trauma depends on many factors, and counseling may be a part of that.
There are times though when a single question can cause a positive change to occur in a survivor’s life, by asking a question they may never have been asked before. That is, what can I do to help you?
Throughout the decades of my victimization, no one asked me that important question. If anyone had asked me, most likely I would have received the help I desperately needed.
Instead for many years I felt alone, afraid, trapped, anxious, and unsafe. I thought no one cared about what was happening to me and that my quality of life did not matter.
I protected our family’s secret of abuse and domestic violence. Keeping that secret nearly ended my life.
If you or someone you know is a victim of domestic violence, know that it is not your fault. The National Domestic Violence Hotline is 800-799-7233.
In his own words, Clemente Aguirre describes how he spent almost 15 years on death row in Florida for a crime he didn’t commit.
I know the torture of fighting against a government that wanted to kill me. The state saw me as just a disposable, undocumented immigrant, and I lost almost 15 years of my life because of it. All for a crime I didn’t commit.
In 2004, I was working in a restaurant, trying to learn to be a cook. On a night off, on my way home after visiting with some friends, I stopped next door to see my neighbors, as I often did. But when I walked inside their trailer, I found a bloody scene: the bodies of my neighbor Cheryl and her mother.
I was terrified. I tried to see if they were still breathing but couldn’t wake them. I feared whoever had hurt them might still be there. And I worried that if I called the police, they would think I did it and might deport me back to Honduras.
After some rest, I decided the right thing to do was go to the police. I had never been arrested or had any interaction with the police in my entire life, but I knew I needed to help.
My worst fears were realized. I became the only target of the police’s investigation. I didn’t understand what was happening; I barely spoke a word of English. The police told me they knew I was undocumented and threated to deport me if I didn’t sign documents that I couldn’t even read.
They made up a story about how I must have killed these women because they disrespected me. They saw me only for my Hispanic background and my undocumented status and decided I was guilty.
Only later did my lawyers discover that police had evidence that would have immediately cleared me, but they never even tested it.
After awaiting trial in jail for almost two years, I was found guilty of first-degree murder. A judge sentenced me to death after a jury couldn’t agree on whether or not I deserved to be executed. (Back then, Florida was one of the only states that allowed someone to get a death sentence even when the jury wasn’t unanimous.)
When the judge gave the ruling, I was in shock. I had been in denial up until that point. I couldn’t believe that the best country in the world would send an innocent man to prison, let alone to death. I was really scared.
In 2011, after seven years behind bars — including five years on death row — my lawyers were finally able to get forensics evidence tested that proved my innocence. I thought that would be it. I thought they’d let me out.
But I remained on death row for another five years. Courts refused to overturn my conviction. Even when they did, prosecutors announced they would retry me and seek the death penalty again.
The whole time, the same forensic evidence that proved my innocence showed that my neighbor Cheryl’s daughter — a white woman — was likely the person who killed them. She had also confessed to the murders on five separate occasions.
In 2018, after almost 15 years, I was finally exonerated. I walked off death row. But that very same day, they slapped handcuffs on me and took me into ICE custody, pending deportation. I never even had the chance to take in the fresh air of freedom before I was placed in a van and transported to another cell. Only because of the generosity of my attorneys, who covered the cost of bail, am I out today.
My struggle is not over.
I’m still fighting to stay in the United States, even though the state of Florida tried to kill me. I’m fighting for compensation for my wrongful imprisonment — something Florida says I don’t deserve because of my undocumented status at the time of my arrest. I’m fighting the Sheriff’s Department that railroaded me just because I was an immigrant. I’m fighting to be able to work, even though I cannot get a license or a state I.D. And I’m fighting to help other people who, like me, are undocumented victims caught in the criminal legal system.
Clemente is one of at least 185 people who have been exonerated from death row in the past 40 years. Other innocent people remain on death row, struggling to prove their case in courts that won’t hear their evidence. The death penalty is broken. It is time to end it once and for all.
A first term president has — officially — 1,460 days to enact an agenda through policy and action for the American people. But the first 100 days have always drawn a huge amount of attention as a traditional measure of what’s to come. They are presented with all the opportunity and hope of a new administration.
The Biden-Harris administration recently passed that 100-day marker. Now the White House will have to navigate beyond the signposts it has staked in the ground, especially around issues of justice and race equity.
For much of the first 100 days, it wasn’t clear how the administration would address issues of justice. Our nation is still deeply mired in the Covid-19 pandemic. So far, the White House has devoted enormous attention and resources to overcoming this challenge. And the administration has made race equity a focus, as the crisis continues to have a devastating impact on communities of color.
The pandemic has proved to be the latest revelation of centuries of racism and white supremacy baked into our everyday systems. Its consequences have rippled outward. Violence has soared, public safety feels elusive, and trauma is everywhere. All of these factors are central to justice — and felt most deeply in Black and brown communities.
Justice reform featured prominently in the Biden-Harris campaign: promises to end the death penalty, in states and federally; to reduce the harm of the justice system; and to infuse equity across the federal government. How would it show up in the Administration? A few weeks ago, the Biden-Harris administration placed a neon signpost in the ground.
In a series of announcements, the White House opened the doors to making billions in federal grant funds available to community-based violence intervention work — effective solutions to violence that exist right now in cities across the nation. It is critical that we make this intent to support community-based work a reality. Truly centering communities will have historic implications for the evolution of public safety. And by investing in communities to do the frontline work on the ground, the White House is taking an important step in its commitment to racial equity.
One of the most important ways to interrupt violence is to work with communities to heal from trauma. That truth is a cornerstone of our vision. Our partners across the country are doing this — their work is helping to create an ecosystem, in their own community, that identifies what communities need to build the public safety we all deserve.
We’re still waiting for the administration to move on the death penalty. Now is the time to commute the sentences of those on federal death row, to release details of a plan to incentivize states to end the death penalty, and to signal to Congress a readiness to end the federal death penalty once and for all.
The death penalty is the most egregious response to violence in a justice system that fails because it relies only on punishment. That focus on retribution — and the way it swallows up funding — distracts from evidence-based and community-centered solutions that are taking on violence and winning.
Signposts are just that: Signs. Signals. Aspirational maps. What’s important is the actions that follow:
Now is the time for the administration to deliver on its promises to end the death penalty.
The administration must continue to press for the historic potential investments in community-based violence prevention to make sure that money gets to impacted communities. Funding this work in communities is an investment in race equity.
Transforming our deeply flawed justice system is the natural extension of the Biden-Harris administration’s equity promise. The sooner we embrace healing and abandon punishment the faster we can move toward the fulfillment of that promise.
Now comes the hard part of ensuring we all stay on the right path. La luta continua.
Yesterday, many millions of us exhaled with relief. We exhaled for those who can’t: George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Duante Wright, Adam Toledo, and so many, many more.
A legal process that has never been applied fairly has convicted Derek Chauvin for the murder of George Floyd. It’s a meaningful verdict in part because it’s so rare.
But we cannot mistake this for a transformative moment. The call that erupted last summer in George Floyd’s name, to reimagine safety and justice — that is our task, nothing less.
This verdict did not change the daily reality on the ground for Black people. A Black teenage girl was killed by police in Columbus, OH — as the nation waited for this verdict. Police departments still absorb almost all of our nation’s public safety budgets, while proven, community-based violence prevention gets a tiny fraction of that funding. Black people are still not safe when they’re pulled over, jogging, or even surrendering to police. And the families affected by violence don’t get trauma care or healing to rebuild their lives.
And most importantly, our nation has not been accountable to the harm of centuries of racist policies embedded in the justice system and so many other systems.
We must never forget the origins of policing.
The people who enslaved more than 10 million African people quickly established some of the first policing patrols with clear objectives: to enforce slavery. Police went on to uphold segregation, allowed white mobs to routinely lynch Black people, and crushed civil rights protests. Today, police are the face of laws that criminalize poverty, warehouse millions of Black and brown people in one of the world’s largest prison systems, and kill as a matter of accepted policy.
Punishing one officer will not create the change we need.
Many people have said that this verdict represents accountability. We disagree. Chauvin has been punished. But true accountability is active and ongoing. It requires real acknowledgement of the harm done, meaningful work to repair that harm, and a change in future actions so the harm is not repeated. Derek Chauvin has not done that. Neither has our nation.
When we are accountable to our racist history and the violence it produces, and we work to repair that harm, then we can build a justice system that centers healing and equity, and creates safety for everyone.
Last night, we exhaled. Today, we are back to work. To the Black and brown members of the EJUSA family: in the names of those lost to racist policies and practices, and in your names, we will continue to dismantle this legacy of racism, trauma, and violence, and build in its place the justice system we all deserve.
Equal Justice USA has been working with a coalition of organizations who are on the ground in several New Jersey communities driving innovative programs and interventions that are reducing violence. Today’s announcement is a critical step toward growing that work and delivering true public safety to communities.
“We are on the verge of a new era of public safety in which it’s clear that traditional law enforcement can no longer be the single point of contact for safety in communities,” said Will Simpson, director of violence reduction initiatives for Equal Justice USA. “This is crucial as gun violence continues to rise around the country. We must invest in proven community-based violence intervention and prevention models that treat violence like the public health issue that it is and that expand the public safety ecosystem to truly include the public. Governor Murphy’s announcement marks an important step in that shift.”
“This evolution is possible because of the unwavering, ground-breaking work of community-based violence intervention organizations using public health strategies to make their neighborhoods much safer. But there is a long way to go. This investment is significant but still a fraction of law enforcement budgets across the state.
“It wasn’t long ago that our society saw policing as the only solution to violence. Much has changed in a short period of time, beginning with the emergence of community-based organizations with a deep understanding of how trauma and a deficit of resources and support can ignite violence.”
In addition to its work in the coalition, EJUSA runs Trauma to Trust, the successful community-police relationship training program currently situated in Newark, where more than 200 officers have undergone the training.
Contact: Patrick Egan, 718-551-6603, patricke@ejusa.org
On April 1, some of New Jersey’s fiercest advocates for community-based violence prevention sat down — virtually — with Gov. Phil Murphy to build out the road ahead and ensure the state remains a national leader on this all-important front.
In addition to myself, the group included Aqeela Sherrills and Solomon Middleton-Williams from the Newark Community Street Team (NCST); Pamela Johnson, Jersey City Anti-Violence Coalition; Dr. Liza Chowdhury, Paterson Healing Collective; and Steven Campos, Hudson Partnership CMO.
Together we presented an agenda designed to make New Jersey a leader on solutions to violence. Here’s a brief summary of our aims:
Invest Now: Similar to the rest of the country, New Jersey’s homicides soared in 2020 in response to the pandemic. There was an outlier, though, in Newark. The city’s homicide and violence rate remained stable, marking a 60-year low. How? The city created a coordinated strategy for violence prevention, most notably NCST’s community-based approach to reducing violence through a public health lens. Historically, violence tends to rise during warmer months. With the pandemic lingering, it’s hard to imagine this summer being different. So we have to act now to keep our communities as safe as possible.
Replicate the Model: Other cities can use Newark’s approach. If the legislature funds a statewide violence intervention program, other cities with high violence rates — Paterson, Jersey City, Camden, Elizabeth, Asbury Park, Neptune, Trenton, Atlantic City, and Woodbury — can directly fund community organizations to the tune of $1.5 million per city and lay the groundwork for safer neighborhoods.
Working in Hospitals: Hospital-based violence intervention programs are a great resource, but their impact is limited without community-based violence intervention organizations as partners. With $500k of gap funding from the existing Victims of Crime Act (VOCA) funding, each of the nine previously mentioned cities can strengthen that coordination and support the community-based organizations preventing violence in their community.
Community Infrastructure: The south ward of Newark saw a nearly 50% decline in homicides, and leaders attribute it to new collaboration between community and law enforcement. One key strategy to curb violence around schools is the safe passage program, where community outreach workers provide safety around schools and thoroughfares. The data show this works and can be replicated.
Trauma Recovery Centers: This unique model allows individuals to self-identify as crime victims and automatically qualify to receive healing services. VOCA helps fund four centers now, but there’s a need to expand to Jersey City, Paterson, Atlantic City, and Camden, for starters. We must fund healing in community.
Fund housing and relocation: When violence happens, survivors need access to safe housing or need to be relocated for their own safety. With a Housing Fund of at least $150k per organization, those in communities impacted by violence or harm will be able to start their healing journey in a safe environment.
Non-Law Enforcement Drug Overdose Response: Like so many states, NJ is still working to address opioid and related drug addiction issues. Law enforcement is often the initial responder in these situations but shouldn’t be. A rapid response approach of non-law enforcement health professionals has worked in other cities and could flourish in NJ with the right investment.
These initiatives have the potential to increase the momentum on violence prevention that has already taken root. Even though New Jersey is a national leader, there is enormous room to expand approaches that succeed in large part because they treat violence like a public health issue. Gov. Murphy’s participation and interest is an encouraging sign that violence prevention can be sustained throughout the entire state. We are hopeful that Gov. Murphy and other leaders at the local, state, and federal level will continue to increase support for community based public safety strategies that have been proven to be impactful in cities around the country.
For nearly two decades, the death penalty has perished in one state after another. There is no question that America’s most egregious response to violence is on its way out. And Scott Langley has been a powerful force in this movement.
Scott is a freelance photojournalist whose passion is documenting the death penalty. His work — striking and filled with humanity — has been seen throughout the world. He has just launched a website that features a broad sweep of his work on capital punishment, including photos, video, essays, and more.
EJUSA’s ability to communicate the injustice of the death penalty, how it serves as an extension of lynching and our racist history, how it preys upon our most vulnerable, wouldn’t be as effective without compelling images. Scott has always been generous in helping us do that because of his unwavering commitment to seeing the end of the death penalty in this nation.
Please take a moment to check out Scott’s work and experience the story he has helped shape about the death penalty.
Reimagining Justice This Month highlights stories about effective responses to violence – responses that disrupt cycles of violence, heal trauma, and address structural racism.
Are Life Sentences a Merciful Alternative to the Death Penalty?, Mother Jones
Virginia’s recent repeal of the death penalty was both a reckoning with a racist history and a step toward a vision of justice that heals, builds equity and accountability, and creates safety for all. As our executive director, Shari Silberstein, says, how we move forward matters. That means recognizing that prisons perpetuate cycles of trauma, and broadening our imaginations beyond the idea that justice requires the suffering of others.
A Language for Healing, EJUSA
Al-Tariq Best, a member of our Trauma & Healing Network, founded The HUBB Arts and Trauma Center because he knows, from his own experience, how vital it is for young people to address their pain. In an interview, he talked about how he collaborated with youth in Newark, NJ, to create music and video projects as an outlet for the trauma they felt from the police murders of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd.
One Million Experiments, millionexperiments.com
The solutions to heal trauma and prevent violence already exist and are working in communities nationwide. Black and Brown communities that have borne the brunt of our nation’s failed criminal justice policies are also the communities that know best how to reduce violence more successfully than police and prisons. The launch of One Million Experiments offers a window into the creativity and possibility of collective action.
Georgia’s Asian American Leaders Call for Community-Centered Response After Six Asian Women Are Murdered, Asian Americans Advancing Justice
Asian American communities across the nation have seen surges of violence against them since the pandemic began, and this has produced substantial community trauma. The recent horrific shooting in Atlanta amplified that trauma. Leaders called for community-centered responses that can identify and address the root causes of the hate and violence and lead to healing and systemic change.
The Push to Pay Violence Interrupters a Living Wage, The Trace
Community-based approaches to violence prevention have been proven to be incredibly successful, reducing violence by up to 30-60% in some communities. We need to help these programs grow. The people putting their lives on the line to heal trauma, prevent violence, and create genuine accountability need not only to be seen for the success of their vital work, but also to be compensated.
Bonus: in breaking news, a new proposed bill out of the White House could provide up to $5 billion for community-based violence prevention programs.
Newark: In This Together, EJUSA
Retired Lt. Louis Forst of the Newark Police Department was quick to see the possibility behind our Trauma to Trust program when it was still a work in process. His personal essay recalls what the first training sessions were like and how sharing personal experiences of trauma helped the community and officers see each other as humans and begin to build trust.
Today, Governor Ralph Northam signed the bill to repeal Virginia’s death penalty, enacting it into law. Virginia is officially the 23rd state to end its death penalty.
The work on the ground to achieve this victory was amazing, including our partners from Virginians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty and the Virginia Interfaith Center on Public Policy.
The signing ceremony was the final action of a crushing blow against the death penalty, one of our nation’s most visible and egregious responses to violence. But what happened in Virginia in recent months, and stretching back well into 2020, is about so much more.
This victory you helped make possible is part of our country’s reckoning with a deep and wide legacy of injustice. Virginia is the first former Confederate state to abolish capital punishment. It comes after a year that saw the dismantling of 168 Confederate symbols across the nation. Nearly half of those symbols were found in the commonwealth.
Our national tolerance of hatred and racism is weakening. There is a renewed urgency to end mass incarceration, police violence, and all existence of systemic racism.
Given the historical context, we should not underestimate how important the repeal of Virginia’s death penalty is to that larger movement.
You make victories like this possible. People like you are the ones that take actions, spread the word, and make the donations that give this movement its strength.
Please take a moment to relish this winning campaign and the movement you’re sustaining.
In addition to myself, the group included Aqeela Sherrills and Solomon Middleton-Williams from the Newark Community Street Team (NCST); Pamela Johnson, Jersey City Anti-Violence Coalition; Dr. Liza Chowdhury, Paterson Healing Collective; and Steven Campos, Hudson Partnership CMO. 
