This Stops Today

AFTER FINISHING THE BEYONCÉ VIDEO, I circled back with Nadia to talk about the upcoming year and how I was going to handle everything, especially with Hillary Clinton’s campaign ramping up. I had taken my personal assessment of where I was and where I wanted to be. My plan was to start 2016 as organized and informed as possible. I knew things wouldn’t be perfect and that I’d probably still mess up sometimes or do things that I wished I hadn’t, but that’s all part of the journey. I felt confident that Hillary was going to win the Democratic nomination, even though other family members were supporting Bernie Sanders. I just felt like she was the right person for the job, and my number-one priority that year was to do everything I could to make that happen.

Nadia was helpful because she basically acted as a sounding board for me at first. She would tell me how I was doing and guide me as far as which opportunities I should pursue and which I should turn down. Like Sybrina told me, sometimes it’s OK to say no to opportunities. Just because someone makes an offer that doesn’t mean you have to take it. Nadia said that she liked the way I carried myself and agreed that I should use my soft-spoken nature and calm demeanor to my advantage. Those were my strengths, and that’s what helped people feel at ease with me. It was good to hear someone provide an objective assessment of how I was doing, because it helped to validate my approach and I knew she was looking out for my best interests.

It had been difficult doing things on my own. I could ask Cynthia or even Reverend Sharpton or family members for their opinion, but it felt good to finally have someone there to guide me and keep me on the right track. Nadia gave me the nickname “Julio.” She said it came from a low-budget TV show similar to Chico and the Man. I didn’t know what she was referring to, but I thought it was sweet, and our friendship was off and running. Before we got started, I shared with her more insight about Eric so she would understand what I was doing and why I was doing it. I told her how he loved his family and his children and fought so hard to try to keep everyone together. I told her about his sense of humor and shared stories about him, like how he loved to work the grill at the family barbecues as he told jokes.

To me, it was important that she truly know who my son was and what he stood for. I wasn’t sure what she had heard or what conclusions she had come to on her own, and I had found that the best way to level the playing field and make sure everyone was on the same page was to lay things out at the beginning. If we were going to be working so closely together, I wanted her to know Eric and understand him and why I was devoting myself to his memory. That was crucial.

I would get emotional talking about him, especially with her, because I knew that she had done a lot of work with young Black men who were incarcerated. She had already heard countless stories, and she knew like I did that behind each of those stories was a son and brother and father, a real human being. Those men were more than statistics or stereotypes; they were real people with real families. She knew what the struggle was like and how unfair the system could be. I wanted her to understand that if we were working together, everything that I did, every opportunity I accepted, was in honor of my son.

We didn’t have too much time to strategize because Hillary’s campaign was kicking into high gear, so if I wanted to be a part of it, I had to jump right in, and that’s what I did. One of the first events was on February 23, 2016, in Columbia, South Carolina. I was there with Sybrina, Lucy McBath, Geneva Reed-Veal, and even Gabby Giffords and her husband, Mark Kelly. We were at Central Baptist Church, and Hillary was speaking about how gun violence was tearing apart our communities. Sybrina was one of the featured speakers because of the horrible tragedy that took her son Trayvon’s life.

It was a real whirlwind keeping up with that pace. We went from city to city, traveling with the campaign and making speeches and meeting people along the way. It was an unforgettable experience, and I met so many amazing voters. There were lots of dignitaries, but also plenty of regular folks too. They were my favorites because they often shared their own stories, and I knew that no matter where we lived or where we were from, we were all part of the same human experience. They often shared with me their own tragic reality, stories about children who had been the victims of senseless violence. That hit home for me, and I understood their pain. I also understood that we all just wanted it to stop. So I continued to share my story with all of them.

The interesting thing was that I never got tired of telling it. Sometimes when you tell a story too many times it gets old and repetitive, but that was not the case with me and my Eric. It was almost like it had its own life and I was just a small part of it, a physical representation of what they had all seen and heard. It was interesting to learn about some of the assumptions people made and the conclusions they had drawn. I was never upset or judgmental. Like Nadia had told me, I stayed on message and focused on sharing because I could actually see the impact it was having.

All across the country, people were relating to me and understanding and sharing their concern and condolences. They all agreed that this was the most important thing I could have done for Eric, and I got lots of encouragement from them. It felt good being out of New York and finding out that so many people felt the same way, that things had gotten out of hand and the police were going too far all across the country. There needed to be some kind of checks-and-balances system. That would only begin when there was better education and more accountability.

I won’t say that it was always perfect. I did meet some people who didn’t say nice things, or said something based on ignorance, but it was strange because I thought that would upset me. Instead, it only helped to reinforce that my work was not done, that I needed to keep talking and educating people on what was happening in other communities. I realized that almost any time there was a negative it was because someone just didn’t understand all the facts. That was one of the problems with social media and those videos.

When something is so public like the video of Eric’s death, it’s open to interpretation and comments and commentary by all kinds of people. With all the social platforms, people often feel free to share their opinions and ideas, usually without thinking about the families involved. If they realized Eric’s mother or stepfather or sister was reading their comments, I wonder how free they would be with their theories and accusations and assumptions.

It was truly exhausting talking to all those people over and over again, but I realized that it was the best way to reach them. Television interviews were great and appearances on CNN and other news programs reached a wide audience, but there was nothing like being face-to-face with a potential voter and explaining my side of things. I could tell when there was a real connection and when they understood what I had been through. I knew they would never truly know what I’d experienced, but I knew that if I could just reach them, touch their soul, and make that connection, I could help to spread the message of my son and how important his life was before he was taken from us.

That gave me a new appreciation for what politicians go through when they are campaigning and talking to so many people. Speaking to large groups is great, but it’s those individual connections where you make the most impact. It’s just incredibly draining. Not only does it take a lot of physical energy, but, because of Eric’s story, it was also emotionally draining. No matter how much I talked about it, it never got any easier. I suppose if I didn’t talk about it at all, if I let that day fade away like the morning fog, then it would be easier to handle. I wouldn’t have to handle those emotions over and over.

However, that was my sacrifice. That was the price I was willing to pay to help get Hillary elected because I felt in my heart that she would work hard to make changes in our approach to law enforcement in this country. She could come up with a solution that allowed the police departments to do their job but do it responsibly. And when there were mistakes or bad decisions, there would be accountability and consequences. That didn’t seem like too much to ask, and when we met in Chicago she gave me her word that she would make that a priority.

I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that a candidate for the presidency of the United States, and one who had a good chance of winning, was interested in what I had to say and was promising her support. I never imagined that I would be in that position. I didn’t like the reason that I had to be there, but I really did appreciate what she was willing to do, how she was willing to put herself on the line to do the right thing.

As we continued to make our way around the country, we spoke in churches, at town hall meetings, rallies, and concerts. I sat on endless panels discussing the importance of accountability, of ending gun violence, and of improving conditions for Black folks, particularly Black men. I talked to many people and stood at so many microphones that I was getting tired of hearing my own voice. Sometimes when I was talking I’d hear myself and think, Who is she? What is she talking about? Then I’d realize it was me. It was like an out-of-body experience as a result of the grueling schedule. I was determined to see it through and show up to every event that I was asked to attend, but I can tell you it was exhausting.

In addition to the in-person appearances, I went on local and national TV programs to talk about why I was supporting Hillary Clinton for president and how I thought she would be a positive influence on our community. I participated in campaign commercials and discussed how I felt that she was looking out for us and how she was concerned about something very important to me—police reform. Sybrina would often discuss the issue of gun violence prevention, and the other mothers would talk about other “common sense” reform policies.

It was my first time getting involved in a political campaign and there was a learning curve for me, but once I got the hang of it, I think I did a good job. Just like every other opportunity, it was a real learning experience, and it helped for me to see politics at work. I was constantly impressed with how Hillary connected with people and how she handled those who disagreed with her. Despite some of the ugliness that was going on with some of the other candidates, she stayed away from that, and I appreciated it. That was one of the reasons I was proud to be associated with her. She conducted herself in a way that was presidential but also felt real and authentic.

Maybe working this closely with her I was able to see a side that a lot of people did not see, because people often mention how she comes across as cold or aloof. What I experienced was just the opposite. She was surprisingly open and candid with me and everyone she met. Had she conducted herself differently, I probably would not have been so closely associated with her because I found that it was important to align myself with people who I thought were positive and inspiring. I had faced too much disappointment and negativity in my life. At this stage, I was not about to invest time and energy in people who did not have values similar to mine. I just don’t have the energy to do it. I’ve got too much work ahead of me to allow that kind of foolishness into my world.

By June 2016, everyone was talking about how Hillary was the presumptive Democratic presidential nominee, and while it wasn’t official yet, we all felt a surge of energy and excitement. It was fulfilling to see that all the hard work was paying off. Keeping up that pace was very difficult, but I promised to do it and I didn’t waver from that. We spent most of June on the West Coast going to Los Angeles and other California cities, working hard to ensure that such a large state threw its support behind Hillary as the Democratic nominee. That state would be very important for her to win the nomination.

Being so far from home was not easy, and I did miss everyone, but I also knew how important this campaign was, not only to me but also to the country. I made myself available for any rally or focus group they wanted me to attend. The saving grace for me was having a cell phone because I could keep up with the family and what was going on at home. I would call and give updates on how things were going. Ben would tell me how he had seen me on the news or read about Gwen Carr and the other Mothers of the Movement. Talking to everyone made me homesick, but I stayed the course, intent on fulfilling my commitment to Hillary.

I was learning a lot about the political process. Before that, I’d voted for presidents before, but I’d never been so involved in a campaign at the ground level. I was learning about primaries and polls and town halls. It was a lot to take in, and I did my best to keep up. That campaign energy and enthusiasm helped to keep everyone’s spirits up, and with each supporting poll we would get more and more excited about the possibility of having our first female president.

Sometimes, when there was a little downtime or just before I went to sleep at night, I’d think about what it would be like to have a woman running the country. I had already witnessed the transformative power that we had as Mothers of the Movement. I could just imagine what it would be like if a woman, a mother, was making decisions that would affect an entire country and even have a global impact. It was exciting to imagine the possibilities, and it felt like we were so close. I knew Eric would be proud that his mother was out there every day telling people to get out and vote. He would be shocked too, because I’d never done anything like working on a campaign before, but he would have loved it. He was always encouraging me to do things for myself, to enjoy myself and stop worrying so much about the family, especially after the children were grown and on their own.

As a mother, there is not a switch that you can just turn on and off. You can’t just stop caring because your child is now an adult. To me, Eric would always be that little boy who brought random friends over for dinner and stuck up for the underdog. Having those memories of him made everything else I did possible. When I needed some inspiration and motivation, I could focus on those times spent around the Christmas tree or the silly jokes he told or the way he and Emery would pick on each other or the way he would try to protect Ellisha. That was the Eric I would always treasure.

That July marked the second anniversary of my son’s passing, so, as she had promised, Nadia assisted my daughter Ellisha and others with organizing everything for the remembrance event. I had put the first one on myself, and this time I wanted to really make an impact, a big splash. That way we would get a lot of press, and it would continue my mission to keep Eric’s name out there. So I was glad to get a fresh perspective. I was hoping Nadia would be able to help us attract some well-known people to help build a buzz.

When everything came together, the ERIC Garner Way Foundation presented a peace walk, a unity fest, and a day of worship. The peace walk kicked off at 9:00 a.m. on July 16 in Prospect Park in Brooklyn. The unity fest followed the walk, and we arranged for transportation to take folks to the New Hope Baptist Church in Elizabeth, New Jersey. At the unity fest, we had speakers like Al Sharpton, radio personality Doug Oliver, and minister Kirsten John Foy.

The highlight was when Nadia was able to arrange a video message from none other than Beyoncé. Apparently, she was on the European leg of her Lemonade tour, but despite that she had contacted Nadia to find out whether there was anything she could do for the event since we had worked together on the video and she knew about the anniversary of Eric’s death. She sent a representative named Bill to help coordinate everything. He made sure to get JAY-Z’s mother there, and he arranged for all the audiovisual technology needed. Of course, they wanted to make sure everything was on point.

It was amazing that she was able to take time out of her touring schedule to do a live greeting like that. She was a beautiful black-and-white image on a huge monitor as she delivered an emotional and powerful message of support for Eric and for all that I was doing in his name. She went out of her way to send us that message, and it was so appreciated. She continued to amaze me with all that she did to help us with our mission.

In addition, Nadia made sure that we communicated our message at the event and on our flyers. We had the following printed up to share with attendees:

ERIC: Eliminating Racism and
Inequality Collectively

ERIC, also known as the Garner Way Foundation, was established to empower others with the knowledge and awareness of the ongoing crisis we face continuously, which is racism and injustice. Our goal is to arm those in need with educational tools that will combat these unfortunate situations when necessary.

Our Story

This is in dedication, memory, and protest of the wrongful choking death of Eric Garner, forty-three years old, father of five children, who on July 17, 2014, was put into a chokehold after apparently breaking up a fight outside a local storefront in Staten Island, New York. Five New York police officers surrounded him, and one of the police officers put him in a chokehold, then forced him onto the ground with the chokehold still applied around his neck. Eric Garner shouted out “I can’t breathe” eleven times. As a result, Eric Garner died shortly thereafter. A Staten Island Grand Jury has voted not to indict the New York police officer in the killing of Eric Garner, which emotionally disturbs the nation.

Later that month I was invited to attend the New York Civil Liberties Union (NYCLU) benefit called “Broadway Stands Up for Freedom.” The event is held each year by the NYCLU, which is a group that has been around since 1951 to defend people’s rights as indicated in the U.S. Constitution. The group helps to fight for freedom of speech, equality, and due process of law for all New York citizens. As with all events, I had learned to do my research before agreeing to anything.

When the NYCLU was founded, civil liberties were under siege. McCarthyism was in full swing and blacklisting and loyalty oaths were the norm. Government censorship of books and magazines was common, and abortion was a crime. Blacks, Latinos and other people of color were subjected to discrimination in education, housing and employment. Gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender New Yorkers lived in fear of exposure. Students were virtually without rights. The NYCLU has led the way and helped to create a more open, just and equitable society. The NYCLU fights for civil liberties and civil rights through a multi-layered program of litigation, advocacy, public education and community organizing. We represent ordinary people who have experienced injustice and have decided to fight back. Our clients are men and women, rich and poor, gay and straight, black, white and brown, young and old, religious and atheist, able-bodied and living with a disability, citizens and immigrants. When we vindicate their rights, all New Yorkers benefit.

The event is a big deal every year in New York, and I thought it would be good exposure. Every time I showed up at something, people would recognize me and my highlighted curls. Then they would remember that I am Eric Garner’s mother, so I thought that any of those high-profile events were a good way to keep his name out in the public’s mind because I know that it’s easy for a news story to fade away. I didn’t want that to happen, so I agreed to attend the event.

Of course, it was star studded, with lots of Broadway performers, local dignitaries, and other important folks. It was a full program where they discussed the importance of fighting for the rights of everyone and how important it is to speak out and get involved. I could honestly say that I was about as involved as anyone could get, and I agreed that it was very empowering.

Nadia and I discussed these opportunities when they came up because while I did want to make sure that I kept Eric’s name out there and in people’s mouths, I started to worry that I might be getting too much exposure. Was there such a thing? I hadn’t thought of that before, but when I saw my pictures online, on the red carpet, I started to wonder whether people were going to get tired of me. Did I have an expiration date, a shelf life for my public appearances? Up to that point, I said “yes” as much as possible, but Nadia pointed out that since I was now helping to represent Hillary’s presidential campaign, I did need to keep that in mind.

We didn’t come up with any hard and fast rules, but we decided that we did need to be cautious and vigilant about future appearances. I had to remember that now it was not just about Eric or me but also about the possible next president. I wanted to make sure that whatever I did, it was keeping in line with the principles and values that I’d heard her share from the road. It was important to me that if I was going to lend my name (and, more important, my time) to something, then I was going to be fully committed to it. I wasn’t going to take my commitment lightly.

At the end of the day, the only thing I really have is my name and my reputation, so they have to be something I protect. I talked before about how there is no activism rulebook that works for everyone, and that goes for being in the public eye as well. Because of the way I was known, I wanted to be careful that I was doing things the right way—I just had to figure out what that was. Having Nadia along for the ride helped me make more informed choices when it came to public appearances and media events.

She was great at evaluating a request, vetting it, and providing me with her thoughts on whether it was something we should pursue. That was important to me because, with all the demands on my time, I had less and less of it to give. I also still wanted to make time for Ben and my family and our get-togethers. That was impossible when I was on the road, so when I had a little bit of downtime I wanted to be careful about what I took on.

After being a part of that campaign, it was easy to get caught up in that momentum and excitement and just immediately agree to do something. I just never imagined in a million years that I would be worrying about which red carpet events to attend and what speaking engagement I should accept. At this stage of my life, it was as much of a surprise to me as anyone else. I guess when you are presented with something like what happened to Eric, you have to decide at that moment how you are going to respond. Lots of family members handled things differently, and that’s OK. We all have to do what feels right for us. I just couldn’t wait until we got to the election and Hillary won the presidency, but first she had to clinch the nomination.

The Democratic National Convention was held from July 25 to 28, 2016, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. It was there that Hillary Clinton, along with her vice presidential running mate Tim Kaine, was chosen as the official Democratic nominee for president. The convention included several days of panels and presentations. Elizabeth Warren was the keynote speaker, and there were countless others in attendance, including Barack and Michelle Obama, Bill Clinton, Bernie Sanders, Cory Booker, Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid, and Joe Biden. There were even folks there like Meryl Streep and Angela Bassett.

The party agreed to focus on several key issues, including financial regulations, criminal justice reform, and important programs like social security and welfare benefits. There was also talk about focusing on strengthening the Affordable Care Act, improving education, and expanding workers’ rights. Those all seemed like reasonable, no-nonsense issues, and I couldn’t really see how anyone wouldn’t want to support them.

It was a bit overwhelming meeting the sheer number of people there. I’d met plenty of important people over the last year or so, but this was at a whole different level. There were so many senators and congresspeople and mayors and celebrities. It was a lot to take in. The programs on the second day focused on fighting for children and families, and I found those especially important.

Several of us were there as part of the Mothers of the Movement. On day two of the convention, we were onstage taking part in a panel discussion. In attendance with me was Maria Hamilton, mother of Dontre Hamilton; Annette Nance-Holt, mother of Blair Holt; Geneva Reed-Veal, mother of Sandra Bland; Lucia McBath, mother of Jordan Davis; Sybrina Fulton, mother of Trayvon Martin; Cleopatra Cowley-Pendleton, mother of Hadiya Pendleton; Wanda Johnson, mother of Oscar Grant; and Lezley McSpadden, mother of Michael Brown. As we walked onstage, people in the audience shouted their support with “Black lives matter!”

By that time, we had traveled all over the country and people had gotten used to seeing us together, a band of mothers representing the effects of police brutality and gun violence on the community. It had gotten to the point where we rarely needed an introduction anymore. Just as the audience shouted out that day, people knew who we were and why we were joined together to spread a message of accountability and responsibility for all people.

The entire convention was a beautiful celebration of the six months we had spent together working so hard for the mission that we all believed in so strongly. It was fun seeing performances by people like Boyz II Men, Alicia Keys, Lenny Kravitz, and Snoop Dogg, but that was just icing on the cake. I knew that the focus was on winning the presidency. I was just so excited that I would see a female U.S. president in my lifetime. I had never even dreamed that was a possibility a few years ago. Of course, I never expected a Black man to do it, either, but I was pleasantly surprised by the amazing eight years when Barack Obama ran the country.

Once again, I met so many people that day that I could barely keep them straight. A poised, well-dressed woman stopped me in the hallway. “Aren’t you Gwen Carr?”

“Hi, I’m April Ryan, White House correspondent for American Urban Radio Networks.”

“Well, we actually met before. I saw you at Hillary Clinton’s town hall in Baltimore. I was also at the Prince concert.”

“Oh, that concert was wonderful. I’m sorry I didn’t remember you. I meet a lot of people and sometimes just can’t keep them straight.”

She smiled at me. “Oh, that’s OK, Mrs. Carr. I’m working on my second book, At Mama’s Knee , and I wanted to ask you if I could mention you and your case in the book.”

“Yes, that would be wonderful. We will take all the attention we can get. I’m hoping that once Hillary is in office, things will really change.” I knew that April was becoming more well known as an author and a news commentator, so I was appreciative of anyone who would write about Eric and keep his name out there. When anyone asked a question like that, if they could mention me along with Eric, I was almost emphatic about it. Yes! Talk about me, talk about him, just keep writing and saying Eric’s name until things change.

On July 28, the last day of the convention, the highlight was Hillary Clinton being introduced by her daughter, Chelsea, and officially accepting the Democratic nomination for president of the United States. It felt amazing that all our hard work was paying off. I had learned so much over the past few months about how politics worked and what it took just to get nominated, much less elected. It was truly overwhelming. It was very fulfilling work, but also emotionally draining.

I was excited when I was contacted by a representative from Beyoncé’s team. The album and video had been released a few months back and had taken the country by storm. I knew that she was very popular, and I liked her music, but I just wasn’t prepared for how universal it was. I saw and heard about it everywhere I went. Everyone was talking because of course the whole project had been top secret, so when a complete album came from out of nowhere, people were very surprised.

Not only that, but they were also very surprised by the tone of the album and the subject matter. This was following her very polarizing and inspiring performance during the Super Bowl halftime that year, when she performed her single “Formation.” Some people perceived the images as having an anti–law enforcement message and a tribute to the Black Panthers. A lot of discussion was going on at that time about the Black Lives Matter movement and the hashtag #BlackLivesMatter. Again, people were taking that to mean that other lives didn’t matter, which wasn’t the message at all. But it sure made some folks feel a certain type of way.

Her album continued with the same themes, controversial topics like Hurricane Katrina, the treatment of Blacks in America, and the importance of having pride in your heritage. In the song “Forward,” the four of us mothers (me, Wanda, Sybrina, and Lezley) are featured with the photos we brought of our children. We had no idea what it would look like when it was completed, so it was very interesting to see how her vision had been realized, not only in the album but also in the video. In addition, the entire video was shown on HBO, so that opened it up to a whole new audience.

It was amazing how many people contacted me to tell me they had seen me and Eric in the video. None of them could believe I was in it because I hadn’t said anything. I told them, “I couldn’t! I promised Beyoncé I wouldn’t say anything. I couldn’t disappoint her!” People laughed when I told them that because after it came out there was a lot of talk about how she did that without anyone even knowing it was going on. I guess that is part of the magic of Beyoncé.

Her representative wanted to know whether I could join Beyoncé and some of the other ladies at the 2016 MTV Video Music Awards in New York at Madison Square Garden. Of course, I was excited, and this was yet another event that I got to see through to the end. I had been at the initial filming, and here we were going to an award show. It felt good to follow these opportunities from start to finish. It helped to show that things were happening, and people were talking and questioning things and hopefully thinking about how things could be improved.

I got dressed up for the event and wore a gold gown. Beyoncé was there with a large crew of women from the project, including Sybrina, Wanda, and Lezley, and of course her husband, JAY-Z, and her daughter, Blue Ivy, were there. We walked the red carpet and posed for pictures before being seated in a reserved section with a perfect view of the stage. I couldn’t believe the things I had been fortunate enough to take part in.

Now, if I’m being totally honest, I didn’t know who a lot of the performers were that night. There were some whom I did recognize and some who seemed familiar, but mostly they were for a different generation and not folks whom I had listened to. That didn’t change my excitement level at all, though. I was into the moment and enjoying every minute of it. We were all taking selfies and posing for photos during breaks between the awards and music acts. One thing they don’t tell you is that there is a lot of downtime during those shows.

We cheered loudest when Beyoncé took the stage and performed a medley of songs from her album. Watching her do her thing up close was very exciting, and seeing how much of herself she put into her show was truly something to behold. She took home a bunch of awards that night. I had to look up which ones they were because I didn’t remember them specifically, but she won Best Female Video for the song “Hold Up,” Best Female Video for “Hold Up,” and Video of the Year for “Formation.” Then the Lemonade album won something called the Moonman Award for Breakthrough Long-Form Video.

After the show, Beyoncé came up to me and asked whether we would like to join her and her family for dinner, and of course I said yes! We went down to Little Italy and had the best time. She is such a wonderful human being. Then she continued to bless me by inviting me to join her in Los Angeles, where Quincy Jones was honoring her. It was just amazing how things like that kept happening. I continued to allow those types of gifts to come my way and receive them in the spirit of gratitude and humbleness. I was just so thankful for everything these people did to help keep Eric’s name alive.

I didn’t have a lot of time to think about those things because I had to be back to work. Now that Hillary was the official Democratic candidate, our schedule was more packed than ever before. In September, Maria Hamilton, Geneva Reed-Veal, and I were at the North Carolina Central University School of Law talking to a large audience about our experiences with the criminal justice system. Everyone there was very warm and receptive to our message. There were many students and faculty along with people in the legal field.

October was filled with more appearances and campaigns. A lot of them were focused in the South and in what they called the battleground states. In Durham, North Carolina, we were at a church and stood behind Hillary with our fists in the air to show our support. There were events in Pennsylvania, Florida, all over the place. In every location in every state, we kept sharing our stories in the hopes of touching people’s hearts and helping them to understand who the best choice was to run this country.

My message was always the same: It was imperative that the criminal justice system experience real reform. Our advocacy needed to turn into action. Things needed to be done. I kept stressing that my son’s death was ruled a homicide; yet no one was held accountable. How does that happen in this day and age? Every time I emphasize that, people are always amazed. They know the video, but they don’t know the whole story. It cuts deep, and it’s not a wound that will ever heal—at least not for me.

The press kept saying that we were there to influence the Black vote and help inspire them to go to the polls. That was partially true. We did want them to go to the polls and vote for Hillary, but I didn’t just want the Black vote. I wanted all votes. One of the problems is that we keep saying this is a Black issue and a Black problem. I was trying to get across to everyone that it’s not a Black problem—it’s an American problem. If I was just trying to reach Black folks, that would be preaching to the choir.

Believe me when I tell you that Black folks are very familiar with the problems we face daily in society. Dealing with law enforcement and prejudice and inequality and poor treatment is just another day for us. We don’t need someone to tell us there is an issue. What we need is to reach other people, those who do not have the same experiences that we do. They likely have no idea what we go through just to shop in a department store without feeling uncomfortable.

People might hear about it and think they understand, but most folks I’ve talked to said they had no idea that’s what it was really like out there in the streets. They couldn’t believe that we were not shocked by how Eric was treated in that video. We did not like it, I can promise you that, and it made us angry and upset, but there was one thing we were not, and that was surprised. For a lot of people, that is a way of life and a daily occurrence. The police officers were upset because they got caught. They never expected that video to go soaring out into cyberspace. Never in a million years.

They thought it was just another day when they were flexing their police muscle and making sure the Black men and women in that area were afraid of them. They used fear and intimidation as their weapon, and we were never surprised to hear yet another story about harassment at the hands of police. Each time I met another mother and heard yet another horrible story, my heart sank, and in my head I thought, Not again. I mean, seriously, how many times does it have to happen?

So, when people would ask us whether we thought we were reaching the Black voters, I would say that I hoped we were reaching all voters. Motherhood is universal, and it goes beyond race. It’s about being treated fairly and humanely, and then having consequences when those basic tenets of human behavior are not followed. It really is not a complicated concept, but I know it gets people upset. First, they don’t like to think of police officers as being so cruel and heartless. Al Sharpton’s words always ring in my head: “When does your humanity kick in?” Second, they don’t want to think people are being treated that way. They might see it in a movie or hear it in the lyrics of a rap song, but they don’t want to actually know about it. That makes it too real, and they have to either deal with it or ignore it. Who could live with themselves if they were aware of that horrible behavior and did nothing?

So that’s why I protested and campaigned and showed up at every single event. That’s why I pushed past my limits and pain as a woman in her golden years who would rather be at home in her recliner. After what I had been through and what I had seen, of course I could never go back to just sitting on the sidelines. I will admit that if Eric hadn’t been murdered, I would not be where I am today. I would not have been out on the campaign trail and away from my loved ones. I would likely have been at a family cookout laughing and having a good time and enjoying the company of Eric, Ellisha, and my grandchildren, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

However, I do think that God has a plan, and this is the one for me. I don’t know why or what it all means, but I do know that I’m giving this my best shot. I have one life, and these are the cards I’ve been dealt. I have to play them carefully, and that’s what I’m working hard to do. The main thing is that I hope Eric would be proud of what I’ve done, for him and Emery. There’s nothing I can do to bring my sons back, but, as a mother, I have to try to help make a difference. There are others fighting for change too, and many of them are better at it than I am, and they’ve been doing it for much longer.

I am grateful to those folks, and I realize that I have to do my part. I’ve been given this experience and this platform, and I’m doing my best to use it for the greater good. If I can turn a tragedy into something positive, then I’ve done my best. If there’s anything I’ve learned from Hillary, it’s that good intentions don’t win races or get things accomplished. You have to be out there. You have to show up. Even then there are no guarantees, but you have to try.

I was told that since people recognize me, the way April Ryan did at the CBC, that is what I need to use. I need to be seen and heard, and I need to use that recognition to get people’s attention. Once I have their attention, I can share my message and hopefully educate them. Armed with that information and that education, maybe they can take that and educate someone else and pass it along.

One of the things Cynthia Davis taught me was that it’s all a long shot and we have to realize that. If it were easy, if it were a slam dunk, it would have been done by now. Getting people to change is not easy. People don’t like to face the ugly facts of police brutality and racism. It is not pleasant, and it’s not a fun topic. There’s no way to put a nice bow on it. It’s evil and cruel. There’s no getting around that. We need to put on our big girl drawers and deal with it. If I can do it, these folks out here in the audience watching me speak can do it too. That’s what I would try to tell them. This isn’t meant to be an emotional presentation that generates your sympathy and then you go on to your Pilates or yoga class. It’s meant to help you visualize what is happening beyond your half-acre yard and your HOA-maintained neighborhood, because it is happening everywhere.

I won’t go into Sybrina’s story because that is hers to tell, but Trayvon was in a totally different environment than Eric was, and I think that helped to shed light on the problems with “stand your ground” and neighborhood watch programs and all of that. The lesson is that these issues are universal and can happen anywhere. It’s what we do afterward that matters. Do we just manage our grief, seal it away in a neat package, and bring it out once a year? Or do we try to tell people what is actually going on in places other than where they live?

I’m not sure how successful I was in sharing that message with all the nice people we met on that campaign trail, but no one can say I didn’t try. That’s for sure. Whenever I could, I focused on how important it was to find solutions to these problems because, if not, it could happen to someone else’s loved one, and I did not want that to happen. I didn’t want anyone else to have to deal with the pain that I and the other mothers have had to endure.

As one mother to another, that was the most important thing I could communicate. I did not want anyone to have to deal with these issues again. All of us mothers had endured enough pain and hurt and misery for everyone. We would gladly be the last people to ever have experienced those horrible incidents if it meant that no one else would have to suffer. That’s what mothers really do—they sacrifice themselves and their comfort for others.

That’s what Hillary said was our strength and the message we could share with others. If there was some way we could make changes in the system, it would never be perfect, but it just might save lives and prevent further misery. Being able to turn Eric’s tragedy into even the smallest of victories would help to give it more meaning than just the sheer brutality that was foisted upon my son that day. I still can’t get over how people can conduct themselves like that and then go home to their families and to their mothers with a clear conscience. How does someone make peace with actions like that? It just astounds me every time I stop to break it down like that.

That’s why that campaigning was so challenging. Of course, those red carpet moments and award ceremonies were much easier because I just had to lend my image to the event. I simply had to show up and make sure I was seen so that people would look at me and think, Oh, yeah, Eric Garner. That was easy, because I could help keep the awareness up without having to talk about it. On the campaign trail, my job was to relive the event over and over every single day. I had to keep telling it and keep sharing how horrible and dehumanizing it was to see my son treated that way. Losing him was almost more than I could bear.

It felt good when people responded positively and when they came up to commiserate and console me after the programs, but that didn’t make it any easier to talk about the worst day of my life time after time after time. However, as I continued, I realized that I was stronger than I’d ever been. It happened gradually, and I didn’t realize it at first, but I did get stronger. Before this happened, I wouldn’t have imagined that I could even do this, much less keep on doing it, and in front of total strangers!

I will say it did feel good when I looked out into the audience and saw someone connecting with what I was saying. Not necessarily just someone nodding in agreement, but when I really reached someone, when they really understood my pain and my drive and my determination, I could see it register in their concerned face. That’s when the switch flipped in my brain. That’s when I knew that I was making a difference, and that’s why I was there.

The final days leading up to November 8, Election Day, were busier than ever. Hillary was going nonstop, and I was doing all I could to contribute. The entire campaign was energized by the polls that continued to tout Hillary as leading her opponent, often by a large margin. I did let that get me excited, but I also didn’t take it for granted. I know enough to realize that people put out things to support how they feel, so just because a poll said she was leading didn’t mean that was the time to get comfortable. However, it did feel good to see that we were all making some sort of impact.

By the time November 8 rolled around, I can tell you that Miss Gwen Carr was tired. I’m really not sure how Hillary did it because she, of course, made more speeches, shook more hands, and talked to many more people than I did. Also, she had to withstand all the negativity and pure nastiness sent her way. I have never seen grown folks behave so poorly. The name-calling and backstabbing just went to a level I had never seen, and it was shocking.

I think what really hit home for me was that I couldn’t believe people would say those things about a woman they didn’t even really know. Over these many months, I had gotten to know her heart, and it was just so sad that others didn’t get to see that. She was stoic and determined and resilient, more so than anyone else I’ve ever seen before. I thought I could see it wearing on her, but that might have been my imagination because she definitely didn’t show it.

It may have been better if she had. I know she wanted to demonstrate that she could be strong in the face of any adversity, and she was, but I kept thinking that she should use her gender and her role as a mother to her advantage. She didn’t have to be like the men who were running. The entire appeal of her was that she was different, she was empathetic, she was a mother. I had learned that on the campaign trail, that I needed to embrace my role and use that to help deliver my message. I couldn’t come across angry or like some other activists might. In my situation, that wouldn’t have worked. Connecting with folks on a personal level and as a concerned mother seemed to work for me.

For a minute, I thought that might have been the way Hillary could have handled it. I know that if a candidate came across like that to me, it would be appealing. We all know how mothers are the complete package. We are caring and compassionate and loving, but if you threaten us or our family, we will come at you with a force like you’ve never seen.

Maybe all that campaigning went right to my head because here I was thinking that I could give Hillary Clinton advice on how to run for president! It wasn’t really that. I knew that she was doing things the way she saw fit, and the way she handled that criticism really impressed me. As part of being in the public, I’d learned not to take everything that people said and did too personally. Many times it was out of anger or plain ignorance. The best thing to do was to try to educate folks so they had a better understanding. Anger and hostility was not the way to get things done. No one ever gets anywhere through sheer anger and bad behavior, or at least that’s what I thought until that fateful day when the election results started rolling in.

I was at the Javits Center in Manhattan that night along with the other Mothers of the Movement. In addition, Nadia was there, along with my family and many politicians and celebrities like New York governor Andrew Cuomo, Bill de Blasio, Chuck Schumer, Cher, and Katy Perry, and of course Al Sharpton was there to support. Based on the positive poll numbers and early results that rolled in, everyone was feeling very good at the beginning of the evening. That huge facility was beautifully decorated in posters and photos and “I’m with her” banners; it was just breathtaking and felt very patriotic. Huge monitors played campaign commercials and videos, including the ones we had done.

It was a little strange to see myself up on that huge screen, but it reminded me of the campaign and all that we had done and that made me smile. Hearing the commercials with the positive messages and uplifting themes kept our spirits up. Then we began watching the news commentary and the second-by-second breakdown of everything that happened that night. They talked about polls that had closed, the ones about to close, and the ones that would later close, and they dissected every single aspect of the process and more. I had never been so involved in a campaign and had no idea how intense things could get, especially when the results were being tabulated.

I keep using a roller coaster as an example for a lot of the upand-down moments I experienced, but this was different. We had those early highs when results came in for Hillary, but then it went downhill and there was no coming back. With a roller coaster, you go up, come down, and then level out with a final sense of euphoria at the end. There was no euphoria that night for us. With each state that came in for the other candidate, I could just feel that things were not going to turn out as we had all hoped and prayed and worked so hard for.

It looked so grim that I truly wanted to just leave, go home, and get in bed. But that was the old Gwen talking. I don’t do that anymore. It’s not to say that I don’t want to and that the thought doesn’t enter my mind at times. I just have to stop and remember that it won’t solve anything. I had been through so many difficult times that now, finally, I was learning how to handle things without letting the devil get his hands on my spirit. It was about staying focused and reminding myself that if I allowed that hopeless feeling into my heart, it was all over for me. I would not be able to continue my mission to share Eric’s story. There was too much at stake to allow those old ways to come back.

Times like that, difficult times when things were not going as planned, are what the devil preys on. He searches for that weakness because he knows that means we are not as vigilant, those of us who are susceptible to depression. So no matter how sad I was at the huge red states that were flashing on the big screen, I was determined not to run away. I would face this, figure out a way to process it, and move on with my mission. I had made that promise to Eric, and I wasn’t going to let a bully stop me. I had come too far to let that happen.

That was one of the toughest nights of my life because it meant so much not only to me but also to Eric. I saw Hillary as basically our last hope for any kind of reform for law enforcement across the country, and possibly some justice for Eric’s murder. Watching that slip away was so defeating and disheartening. I had laid it all out on that campaign trail. I shared all I could, and I tried to connect with as many people as possible. Losing that election felt like I was failing, and that was not a feeling that I liked. It just amazed me that people were willing to support hate. Of course, we later found out that there might have been other factors meddling with the results, but I don’t know a lot about that.

What I do know is that it really seemed like once again, like so many times in our history, Black people and those who are oppressed by the system were not getting the representation that they needed. It saddened me that I wasn’t even more upset, because the fact of the matter was that people like me are used to disappointment. We are used to being treated like we are not equal and do not have the same value as people who do not look like us. Disappointment is a sad and unfortunate part of our heritage.

The one thing that always holds true, just as it has done in Selma, and at the lunch counters, and on buses, and atop flagpoles, is that we take that disappointment, and it might slow us down for a minute, but we channel it. We have the benefit of one thing that we never wanted: We have so much experience dealing with bad news and tragedy that we have learned we can’t let it stop us. We use it as fuel to keep going and keep fighting. That’s what I realized I needed to do after that horrible night on November 8, 2016.

I had to take what we were given and use it to continue my mission. There had to be some way to continue fighting. If it couldn’t be with Hillary, I just needed to figure out what else could be done. I had learned a lot about politics over the past year, but there was a lot I did not know. I still had hope there was something that could be done.

That’s one of the key elements of this crazy world of activism. You have to be passionate to be successful. You have to feel the mission in your heart, and it has to be a part of your spirit, but the trick is that you can’t let the defeats stop you. That was much easier to say than do, but to be effective you have to learn how to process those setbacks and then keep on pushing forward. People would love it if, at the first sign of true adversity, we just gave up. That won’t work. It is not easy to move past the hurt after putting so much of yourself into something so close to your heart, but you just have to find a way to do that. That’s what I did.

After the event at the Javits Center, my first step was to re-charge. I was careful not to get too comfortable, but I did allow myself to step back for a minute and get myself together. I also gave myself permission to be sad and disappointed. I had earned the right to do that, and it was important for a couple of reasons. Spending time with family and reflecting on the past year allowed me to really understand how everything had played out. I took that time to just breathe.

I also wanted to make sure that I was in touch with what that moment felt like. I wanted to always remember that defeat because, as I progressed on my journey, I wanted to use that to stay motivated. That was not a feeling I wanted to go through again, so using it as motivation could get me through some of the other difficulties I would likely face. No matter how hurtful and painful that election was, it didn’t compare to the horrific things I had already been through. This wasn’t about to stop me.

What I realized, and something that Nadia pointed out, was that since President Barack Obama would be leaving office in couple of months, we needed to do whatever we could before the entire administration at the White House changed over. She was right about that, and so we got to work. She helped the family draft a letter to Attorney General Loretta Lynch asking her to ensure that the U.S. Justice Department review Eric’s case and do it quickly.

We had a press conference right after the election results, and it was attended by family members, community leaders, and local politicians supportive of our mission. It was our hope that there would be some form of federal indictment since the state of New York had failed in its mission to bring anyone to justice for killing my son. Later that month, after we had made the official announcement, we brought out a lot of home-cooked food to serve the hungry since it was Thanksgiving. We wanted to make that event a positive one where we not only asked for help from the U.S. Justice Department but also provided help to others by feeding hungry local people. Events like that were my favorite because we asked for something but gave something at the same time.

We were not about just asking and taking, we wanted to give as well. We wanted to turn our negatives to positives. Taking those defeats and turning them around was the best way to continue our mission. So we drafted a letter and sent it to the current attorney general of the United States. That was really our last legal option to get some type of justice for Eric, and we held on to it. It was our plan to fully explore whatever we could. That is where Al Sharpton and NAN really helped, because they had been doing this for so long they knew how to navigate within the system.

That is what we had to do—use the system to try to get justice. Of course, we had to follow protocol and work within the established framework, but I still continued to share my story, in my own way, to try to connect with people and get their help. That’s what I hoped Loretta Lynch would do. She was in a position where she could help us move forward, and I hoped as a woman that she could understand what I was going through and have some compassion.

I know that things have to follow an established pattern, but I also know that powerful people can make things happen when they really want to. I wanted Loretta Lynch to understand how important this was to use. We needed her help and we needed it quickly, before the new administration took office and brought in new department personnel. Then we would be back to square one. That was a scary proposition because, like the rest of the country and the world, we had no idea what the incoming administration had in store.

U.S. Department of Justice
950 Pennsylvania Avenue, N
Washington, DC 20530-0001
Attention: Attorney General Loretta
Lynch RE: Justice for Eric Garner—A Mother’s Cry

Dear Attorney General Lynch:

You are my last hope; I pray you hear my cry.

My son Eric laid under my heartbeat for 9 months and I continued to nurture him until his last breath as an adult. For the past 2 years I have been searching for understanding as to why this tragedy found me and the answer has yet to become clear. Instead, I’m meeting mothers whose tragedies are similar to my own. As the tears fall from my eyes, my body grows weak. But, I still find the strength to put my arms around these mothers. The look of despair in their eyes mirrors my own and their tears become my tears. Attorney General Lynch, they look to me for hope, just as I am to you.

Visualize my cry for help after I read my son’s autopsy report. It said that the cause of his death was a “homicide”—this means “a deliberate and unlawful killing of a person by another.” Imagine my tears as I watched the video of my son’s last moments breathing. Yes, the world heard my son say eleven times, “I can’t breathe.” But he also said, “this stops today.” Does it?

Despite the recent political upset, I ask that your intervention as the Attorney General of the United States of America be the light of hope for our country by setting the precedent that these injustices will not be tolerated and that those responsible must held accountable. Please hear my cry, don’t allow my son’s words and our tears to be in vain.

I’ve been living in a nightmare and crying for over 2 years and I’m ready to awake to peace.

Respectfully,

Gwen Carr
Mother of Eric Garner

Putting Hope in Hillary