Mothering for Justice

On March 10, 2013, Dallas police officer Clark Staller was called to an apartment complex by a resident because Clinton Allen, 25, refused to leave the location. Though the facts of that night are disputed, it ended with Staller fatally shooting Allen because he claimed he 鈥渇eared for his life.鈥 After a , Allen鈥檚 mother, Collette Flanagan, filed that was dismissed without prejudice in 2014.
While navigating this unjust system, Flanagan felt out of her depth, so she began reaching out to other families who have experienced police violence. Those conversations inspired her to found the protest group (MAPB). 鈥淚 just felt compelled,鈥 Flanagan says. 鈥淸I wanted to] start a group where moms [who have lost a child to police violence] could meet. I remember feeling so isolated. I just couldn鈥檛 break through that grief.鈥
Now, more than a decade after Allen鈥檚 death, MAPB focuses on advocating for better policy around police brutality鈥攍ike 鈥攁nd training mothers to advocate within their local communities.
On May 14, 2014, Johnatha de Oliveira Lima, 19, left his house in Manguinhos, a community in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, to walk his girlfriend home and drop off dessert at his grandmother鈥檚 residence. While walking home, Lima encountered the police having a confrontation with residents of his community. Amid the chaos, policeman in the back. By the time Lima鈥檚 mother, Ana Paula de Oliveira, arrived at the hospital, her son had died.
During Lima鈥檚 funeral, Oliveira met F谩tima Pinho, whose son, after being asphyxiated by a cop. During that conversation, Pinho invited Oliveira to fight for justice for both of their sons. 鈥淭he only thing I was sure of was that I wanted to fight for my son鈥檚 memory and for the truth,鈥 Oliveira says. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 how the M茫es de Manguinhos movement emerged.鈥
That same year, Oliveira and Pinho founded M茫es de Manguinhos (Mothers of Manguinhos), a collective that organizes protests against police brutality, helps mothers report their children鈥檚 state-sanctioned murders to the appropriate channels, and supports families in the aftermath of losing a relative to police violence.
鈥淸Our] objective was to denounce police violence in Manguinhos, but we started moving away from Manguinhos [and] started meeting mothers from outside the community,鈥 says Oliveira. 鈥淸That鈥檚 when] we noticed [many of] those families are also Black.鈥
Though they are separated by more than 5,000 miles, Oliveira and Flanagan are connected in myriad ways. They have both been left to pick up the pieces after the Black men they birthed were brutally murdered. Neither of them received support, monetary or otherwise, from their respective governments. And both have founded movements aimed at advocating for better policy around police brutality and teaching mothers who lost their children how to get justice.
Every year, , while due to police interventions in 2023 alone. In both countries, most of the victims are Black men and boys whose mothers are often forced to dispute the idea that their sons were disposable or responsible for their own deaths.
Both M茫es de Manguinhos and MAPB aid mothers seeking accountability for the state鈥檚 violence against men and boys of color鈥攁 labor they are thrust into with little resources. After their children are murdered, these mothers can experience and , and yet, these mothers still devote their lives to seeking justice for their children and others. But, as they fight for their children鈥檚 legacy, we must ask ourselves: Who takes care of these mothers?
Connected by Struggle
In Rio de Janeiro, the M茫es de Manguinhos collective pressured the state to prosecute the officer who killed Lima. Oliveira gathered testimonies and evidence to prove her son wasn鈥檛 a drug trafficker, as the officer claimed. When , Oliveira argued that her son was not a threat to police. Ultimately, the officer was convicted of manslaughter rather than murder, so Oliveira has appealed the verdict and requested a new trial. The second trial has not yet been scheduled.
鈥淢ost investigations into cases like this do not go anywhere because they are based on the character of the victim, investigating what the victim was doing at the time of the shooting,鈥 explains Etyelle Pinheiro de Araujo, a sociologist at Unigranrio University in Rio de Janeiro who researches the narratives of mothers who lost their children to police violence. 鈥淲hen [these] mothers tell their stories in the public sphere, they are breaking with this narrative. They are combating these discourses and humanizing victims of police violence.鈥
Oliveira alchemized her grief into care for other mothers by providing them with a road map for pressuring authorities. 鈥淭his project was born with the intention of denouncing police violence and the murders of our children,鈥 Oliveira says. 鈥淏ut there鈥檚 also a need to welcome, embrace, and care for these mothers, to show them that we are also victims and that we won鈥檛 die despite the pain, that we manage to stay alive through the purpose of the struggle.鈥 Finding similarity in their struggles, these mothers become stronger in numbers, even when they are separated by oceans.
While fatal police violence is common in both countries, there are also no protections or aid鈥攎onetary or legal鈥攆or families who lose a loved one to state violence.聽
That鈥檚 one of the reasons MAPB began running a two-year fellowship program in Dallas in 2021 where mothers who lost their children to police brutality are trained to be agents of change. Flanagan says the fellows learn how to organize for change; how to engage effectively with policymakers, district attorneys, law enforcement agencies, and media; and how to effectively collaborate with other organizations.聽
Some of those fellows include Sheila Banks, whose son Corey Jones was fatally shot by Palm Beach Gardens police officer Nouman Raja in 2015. After a five-year battle, by culpable negligence and attempted first-degree murder with a firearm in 2019 and sentenced to 25 years. Another MAPB fellow, Dalphine Robinson, founded , an organization that supports families affected by police brutality.聽
鈥淲e have 20 powerful women who know who their representative is, who know legislation, and who know who their city officials are,鈥 says Flanagan. 鈥淭hey are a force in their community, and I think that鈥檚 how we get the change collectively that we need.鈥
According to Flanagan, MAPB is also advocating for a change in policy in Texas that would make these families eligible for the state鈥檚 Victim鈥檚 Compensation Fund, which currently aids police officers involved in the killing and not the families of the victim.聽
By leaning on each other and learning through their grief, these women have become change advocates. 鈥淪ocial movements teach the people that exist within them,鈥 Pinheiro de Araujo says. 鈥淚t鈥檚 the pedagogy of the streets. The mothers themselves say they become investigators, they go after evidence, [and] some of them go to law school. And they teach one another through solidarity.鈥
After a , a network of mothers in Rio who lost their children to police brutality, including Oliveira, created RAAVE. Since 2022, RAAVE has been providing mental health services to the families of victims and conducting research on the impacts of fatal police violence. This year, a partnership with the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro provided scholarships to mothers across the state to be trained as researchers and develop public policy proposals to combat police violence, including monetary aid to victims鈥 families and mental and physical health care for the mothers.聽
The RAAVE project pays these mothers for their expertise and participation in the project to counteract the economic impact state violence has on families. Often, after the victim is killed, families experience a sudden loss of income either because the victim was the primary earner or the victim鈥檚 mother has to stop working due to grief.
鈥淢any of these mothers die without seeing justice for their kids鈥 murder, they die of depression or other illnesses,鈥 says Pinheiro de Araujo. 鈥淭here鈥檚 the financial question too. These women lose their jobs and end up in very vulnerable positions.鈥
As a result of this project, Oliviera will receive a degree in psychiatry while also influencing policy on how to care for families after the fact. Taking the project as instructive, Oliveira wants the state to provide general care and political education for the families of victims. 鈥淥ur intention is that this project grows into other results and that our contributions become public policy,鈥 Oliveira says. 鈥淲e think it鈥檚 fundamental to care for the body and mind, but there鈥檚 also a need for political education.鈥
Demanding Care From the State
Since the right to raise children in a safe environment is , Oliveira argues that this also has to be addressed as a dimension of justice for police violence. The murder of Black boys and men by the police is the more extreme manifestation of this lack of rights, Oliveira said, but the state鈥檚 infringement on Black boys鈥 existence is everywhere, starting with low-quality education and lack of access to leisure.聽
鈥淲e are denied access to many spaces like the cinema, the theater, which are spaces of culture, and we don鈥檛 see people having the right to these spaces [because of policing and racial profiling],鈥 Oliveira says.聽
While both Flanagan and Oliveira have dedicated their lives to filling a gap of care for other mothers, the question still remains: Who takes care of them? Oliveira says the women in M茫es de Manguinhos take care of each other through companionship, cooking for each other, organizing and going to protests together, and helping each other find the right channels to get justice. If the state isn鈥檛 there for them, they are there for each other.聽
Oliveira sees this work as a continuation of her care for her son, so the sacrifices feel worth it. 鈥淭he struggle is a space where I can still care for my Johnatha,鈥 Oliveira says. 鈥淲here I am still his mother. That鈥檚 something I agonized about. What鈥檚 it going to be like now? How will I speak about him? What will my relationship with my son be like?鈥
For Flanagan, who recently took a break from MAPB due to health issues, this question is more complicated. 鈥淚 threw myself at the work, and the work just really helped me but also caused me a lot of health problems,鈥 she says. 鈥淎 lot of the moms in the movement have never been to therapy. You have to make it healthy for you at the same time, [while] honoring their space and pain.鈥
Across the world, grieving Black mothers have organized themselves to clamor for justice, to care for one another, and to advocate for their murdered children. Through their grief and pain, these mothers build support networks, help each other gather evidence, study legislation and advocate for better laws, and hold space for one another鈥檚 loss鈥攁 model for how states around the world should approach the consequences of state violence with care, solidarity, and an integral concern for those who survive.
Nicole Froio
is a reporter, researcher, and translator based in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. She writes about social movements, human rights violations, and pop culture. She is also a co-founder of The Flytrap Media, a feminist newsletter bringing feminism back to the internet.
|