Black women bear the brunt of violent crime, but are often overlooked. They see Kamala Harris as an ally.
Candice Norwood, The 19th
At a crime survivors march in Washington, D.C., attendees expressed complicated feelings over how to balance seeking justice for crime victims with prevention efforts — much like Harris.
This story was originally published in The 19th.
WASHINGTON, D.C. — A march in the nation’s capital this week drew thousands of crime victims and their loved ones, capturing an often-ignored reality: Women of color bear the brunt of violent crime in the United States. The crowd that gathered near the U.S. Capitol on Tuesday consisted of mostly Black women.
Led by the nonprofit Alliance for Safety and Justice, the effort challenges the country’s prevailing “law and order” approach that has historically encouraged harsh criminal sentences and policing. Now, 30 years after the Violence Against Women Act was enacted, participants called for a new victims’ rights movement rooted in crime prevention, rehabilitation, economic mobility and trauma recovery over punitive measures that expand incarceration rates.
But in conversations with The 19th, Black women — both survivors of violent crime and mothers of victims — expressed more complicated feelings over how to balance seeking justice with prevention efforts. Their thoughts signal how this group is thinking about the stakes of the 2024 election, and how many see Vice President Kamala Harris — a presidential candidate with a career in prosecution who centers victims, but also acknowledges harms of the system — as an ally.
“Some people can be rehabilitated, some people are just mean and evil,” said Karen Spencer-McGee, a 60-year-old survivor of domestic violence and sexual assault who lives in Memphis, Tennessee. “So there are some things that should be punishable. But you cannot address crime without addressing poverty and the miseducation of Black and Brown people.”
In 2023, Black women faced the highest rates of victimization (27.2 violent crimes per 1,000 women), according to federal data. Despite this, Spencer-McGee and other Black women at the Crime Survivors Speak March on Washington shared a common feeling that they were dismissed by police or treated as suspects after experiencing violence. Research bears this out, indicating that crimes committed against Black people are less likely to be solved by law enforcement and less likely to receive news coverage than crimes targeting White people. Marchers described finding community with women in similar circumstances and working together to advocate for themselves.
Sabchilnata Parker, 53, from Eustis, Florida, lost her 21-year-old son Andrew Da’von Jones after he was robbed and fatally shot outside a grocery store in 2016. Parker said over the years she has repeatedly tried to get updates from law enforcement, but feels “shunned.” The case is still open.
“I’d go to talk to the police captain and I would get blown off, like this is just Black-on-Black on crime, and they shove it under the rug,” Parker said.
When asked her thoughts about incarceration, she said the real problem is access to guns, and that the country needs stricter gun regulations. For offenders who repeatedly commit serious crimes like murder, however, there needs to be more severe punishments like long-term incarceration, she said.
Black voters and public officials have grappled with what role punishment should play in the criminal justice system for years. Three decades ago, the country was reeling from record high violent crimes rates that reached a peak in 1991. The Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act of 1994, also known at the 1994 crime bill, was pushed by national political figures, including then-U.S. Sen. Joe Biden, as a way to solve the issue.
Some Black lawmakers rejected the bill and demanded more attention to prevention, but more broadly, a 1994 Gallup survey indicates that 58 percent of Black Americans also supported the bill, compared with 49 percent of White Americans.
Ultimately, the 1994 crime bill passed and has since faced wide criticism for expanding policing and harsh criminal punishments that fell hard on adults and children in Black communities. During peak incarceration levels in the early 2000s, Black people represented about 12 percent of the U.S. population but 38 percent of incarcerated people.
Black voters are acutely aware of the harms of mass incarceration and data indicates they want systemic reforms to policing and a reduction in incarceration. The same is true for crime survivors, according to figures from the Alliance for Justice and Safety. A 2022 report by the organization found that most victims prefer crime responses that focus on rehabilitation and access to things like employment and housing over increasing arrests and time in prison.
But without the political will from lawmakers to fund evidence-based prevention efforts, the communities most affected by crime are left to turn to existing forms of accountability.
“There is this recognition that something needs to be done about violent crime. So for communities that are feeling the brunt of that trauma, that harm, that fear of crime, the thing that is sort of routinely looked at in this country — because we don’t have a ton of alternatives — is the police department,” Jocelyn Fontaine, a senior fellow in the Justice Policy Center at the Urban Institute, told The 19th ahead of the march.
In many ways, Harris’ attempt to toe the line between a “tough on crime” approach and criminal justice reform mirrors that conflict. Harris has said that her journey to becoming a prosecutor began in high school, after learning that her best friend was being molested by her father. It was a desire to protect people like her friend that sparked an interest in the law, Harris said. Early on in her career, Harris was assigned to work on child sexual abuse cases, an experience she carried to her roles as district attorney of San Francisco and California attorney general by setting up units to handle those issues. She has repeatedly positioned herself as a champion for victims and those who feel neglected by the system.
“It is a myth to say that African Americans don’t want law enforcement. We do,” Harris said at a 2006 panel when she was the San Francisco DA. “We want our grandmothers to be able to walk to church and be safe. We want our babies to be able to walk to the park and be safe. What we don’t want is racial profiling. What we don’t want is excessive force. What we don’t want is to have our civil liberties and civil rights be stripped.”
Harris went on to say that incarceration without robust reentry services to support people after leaving prison will lead to repeat offenses. Though Harris’ framing of the issue has evolved, the core message behind those 2006 remarks has remained. Her 2024 presidential campaign website celebrates the Biden-Harris administration’s efforts to remove illegal guns and invest in local law enforcement and community safety programs.
At the D.C. march, women survivors and mothers of crime victims pointed to similar priorities.
“I want to see from her more police action, more foot action from sergeants and detectives and homicide cases. I want to see more compassionate officers,” said Andrelena Rosser, a Memphis resident who lost her 32-year-old son, De’Andre Rosser, who was a bystander in a shooting in April.
Rosser said she supports Harris’ interest in community policing; she believes that officers taking the time to get to know a neighborhood can help build trust and a sense of safety. She also appeared frustrated when thinking about the harmful effects of policing and prisons.
In particular, she was critical of long-term sentences for children, and emphasized that there should be government efforts to reach at-risk youth early on with educational or employment opportunities and mental health services.
“It’s so hard,” Rosser said. “I know they have to be punished if they commit a crime, but give them something. A 15-year-old never having a chance or possibility of coming back home — I hate to even think of that.”
Despite signs of some uncertainty over how best to navigate the issue, Black women at the march were resolute in their support for Harris. As women at the intersection of violent crime and mass incarceration, Harris’ legal background and public image as a voice for crime victims gives them hope that they won’t continue to be overlooked.
“We gotta vote,” Parker said. “Once she steps in, I believe there’s gonna be monumental change, especially for the Black women and what we stand for, because sometimes we’re not heard.”