This week in our Political Remix series, we’re bringing back some of Farai’s key interviews with three women of color exploring the impact of gun violence and policing in the U.S. First, Farai speaks to activist, therapist, and mother, Nelba Marquéz-Greene on the aftermath of the Sandy Hook shooting. Then, we get reflections from Samaria Rice, mother of Tamir Rice, on policing and justice right after the conviction of former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin. Plus, Farai speaks to former Dallas Police Chief Reneé Hall on bridging the divide between Black communities and the police.
Farai Chideya:
This is Our Body Politic. I'm Farai Chideya. In our political remix series, we revisit some of our best interviews. This week, we explore the impact of gun violence on the lives of three women and how they're each fueling change. First up is our conversation with Nelba Marquéz-Greene, founder and executive director of the Ana Grace Project, an organization focused on building community and connection to prevent violence and promote healing.
Farai Chideya:
A decade ago, Nelba Marquéz-Greene's six-year-old daughter, Ana Grace, was shot and killed at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut. The gunman killed 20 children and six educators. A licensed marriage and family therapist, Nelba has kept Ana's legacy alive with the Ana Grace Project. The project focuses on creating healthier and safer communities for all children and their families through three lead initiatives, partner schools, professional development, and music and arts. Three months after we spoke with Nelba, a shooter killed 19 children and two adults at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas.
Farai Chideya:
In a guest essay for the New York Times in July, Nelba called for elected officials to step up and for people not directly affected by tragedy to advocate for change. The surviving families of the Sandy Hook victims are dealing with harassment, death threats, and false claims about their children, fueled in part by the conspiracy theories purported by Alex Jones. In October, two separate juries ordered Jones to pay damages totaling more than a billion dollars to victims' families. Through it all, Nelba remains focused on championing safer communities for all families. Here's our conversation. Welcome, Nelba.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
Thank you for having me.
Farai Chideya:
This is one of those things where I don't know where to start with you because you already were so deeply involved in trying to make the world better for families and children before the tragedy of your daughter's killing.
Farai Chideya:
And now it just seems to me like your voice is so strong, and you were on an MSNBC interview talking about making the case to people for staying engaged with one of those thorny political issues that just keeps getting hashed over and over again with less progress than many people would like. And you said, "If we are still here, you should still be here with us." Do you feel, sometimes, that people are abandoning the idea of keeping more children safe and diminishing gun violence?
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
We are a culture that likes a hero narrative, number one, and a quick and easy fix. It is really, really difficult with issues like gun violence, like preventative care that includes mental health for children and families, and other kinds of social programs because it requires an investment in prevention and long-term care more than having a quick and easy fix.
So yes, it does sometimes feel that way. It doesn't mean I don't understand why. So we need to consistently remind people as to what they can do both short term while they're thinking about long term.
Farai Chideya:
So let's talk about the Ana Grace Project. What is it? Tell us about your daughter. Tell us about what you do today.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
Sure. So we wanted, in the aftermath of this, you said killing, after which I am grateful you use that language because that's exactly what it is. And we try to soften it often to kind of pull away from the tragedy, and we shouldn't. And in the aftermath of Ana's killing, we wanted to make sure that other children who are loved just as much as her brother Isaiah would have ways of having resources also as they experienced tragedy or came from situations where they needed to heal.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
So we provided mental health support, conferences, funding for many different schools. We were embedded and are embedded in many different schools providing direct mental health services and have done many, many things in her memory trying to build legacy.
Farai Chideya:
Sometimes there are no words. But what does it feel like on the inside to have your daughter taken and then to know that you have made a choice to incorporate this into your life's work and to serve others? What does it feel like to have to stand in that space?
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
There are many layers to this. There is the layer of having this happen to Ana and her friends and her teachers, and the educators in Newtown. And then there is the reality that this is happening at the same time that gun violence is impacting so many other people in many different ways, whether that be police shootings or in everyday community violence.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
And that it matters that we care. It matters that we speak. So it feels often, as the parents of Ana, who was the only child who was Puerto Rican and Black in Newtown, it feels like we're standing in more than our space. We are standing in many spaces.
Farai Chideya:
In one of those interviews that you gave on television, you drew parallels between thinking about the violence that killed your daughter and the insurrection in January 6th. What were you talking about? What are the threads there?
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
The sense of lawlessness that I saw in people. The cruelty that I saw. The impact and influence of white supremacy on so much of our lives that people do not want to address, that folks don't want to talk to their neighbors about. It just feels overwhelming, at times. I'm glad we are focused, and our eyes are fixed on beauty because it is a way we move forward.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
Let's be real. If the person who murdered my daughter had a different name and lived in a different place, I believe he would have been identified by Child Protective Services or some other system way earlier. But...
Farai Chideya:
Right.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
... when you look at evil in the face, and it doesn't look like evil, it looks like your uncle, you're going to see your uncle. And that is what happened to my daughter.
Farai Chideya:
Yeah. Yeah. And now that there has been a settlement, which you are not a party to. There's this 10th year anniversary. There's a settlement. Is this progress? How does it sit in your heart to see how many shootings there have been in the decade since Ana Grace was killed, murdered? And at the same time that there has been some desire to reckon with this in a Civil Court.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
Progress often isn't linear, and it isn't clean and neat and tied with a bow. So I am incredibly grateful for this verdict for the nine families involved in the suit. Hopefully, it will spare some other family from the same pain or allow them to find justice in a way that feels meaningful for them should they go forward with a suit like this. So that's what this did is kick the door down. So I'm grateful for those nine.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
I'm also aware, right, that progress isn't linear or clean or neat. So it is both. If we can stand here and still go forward in our own ways. There are nine families who did it this way. There are 17 other families who are doing it in their own ways. Then other people should be able to stand and care with us, I would hope.
Farai Chideya:
And is your family pursuing a civil legal action on your own since you weren't part of the class action?
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
We made the choice to go in a different direction. I stand by those choices, and it was just the right decision for our family in the moment. I don't think people understand how much care and support survivors need after tragedy. And I certainly hope that people don't see these nine families and go, "Oh, okay. Well, they're all set now." We're never going to be all set. Whether you've got $5 million in a settlement or not, this is not something that gets all set.
Farai Chideya:
And speaking of care, you have a son. You have a husband, Jimmy, and your whole family has been part of this journey. How do you support each other as a family?
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
I'm so grateful that you're asking me that because that changes over time. It changes as we kind of march along, and it is now almost 10 years later, and it changes in every season of development. It's changing now as Isaiah is ready to be a full adult. It changed when we became premature empty nesters when my son got a scholarship to boarding school.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
So we try to manage every day with the strength and resources that we have available and also with our faith and also with the search for beauty. My husband is an educator. He loves teaching. He has a passion for students, and that has not changed. He's also a performer.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
He's a creative. He plays all over the world, and that is his outlet for remembering his baby girl. And it is in line with what we do, right. We are cutting the ribbon on a brand new 800-student-strong facility with 165 educators, the Ana Grace Academy of the Arts.
Farai Chideya:
Oh, that is amazing.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
Yes. And we are just so deeply proud that the arts can be a part of our healing and supporting the arts, being parts of other people healing.
Farai Chideya:
You are Puerto Rican. You talk about Ana Grace being Black and Puerto Rican. How has being Puerto Rican affected how you process all the things that you're doing in your life?
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
I am in tears right now that you asked me that question because it has been almost 10 years, and no one has ever asked.
Farai Chideya:
Wow.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
So thank you. It is incredibly meaningful to be asked that because we're not like every other family, and no other family is alike. But specifically to being Puerto Rican, I have to say that's why so much of this was so deeply offensive, not just losing her, but all we had to go through after. The accusations of profiting off a child. The accusations by so many people of this not even being real, of being a part of a conspiracy to take guns from people.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
If you know anything about Puerto Rican culture, we are a family-oriented, strictly community-based culture and society. And the idea that we would be a part of something of profit of our daughter or a part of a conspiracy was just so deeply offensive to me. It made me cry on many days and still does. Having to explain this to my mom, right, who had taught for 32 years. Who lives on the island now full-time, to my family who lived there. It often left me without words.
Farai Chideya:
That was Nelba Marquéz-Greene, mother of Ana Grace Marquéz-Greene, and executive director of the Ana Grace Project. Coming up next, I continue my conversation with Nelba Marquéz-Greene. Plus. Later we hear from former Dallas Police Chief Reneé Hall on her journey as a Black police officer and building community trust. That's on Our Body Politic.
Farai Chideya:
Welcome back to Our Body Politic. We're continuing our third political remix. We've been speaking with Nelba Marquéz-Greene, founder and executive director of the Ana Grace Project. Six-year-old Ana Grace was killed at Sandy Hook Elementary School in 2012. Nelba spoke with us about what we can do to end gun violence. Let's listen.
Farai Chideya:
Can I ask, how do you talk to your son about what it means to be Black and Puerto Rican? A young Brown man in America, having lost his sister, having watched his parents have to kind of triage civil society to try to get things changed. What do you tell him about what his road can be and how to take care of himself?
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
Isaiah came with a soft, gentle spirit delivering a message, and he's just so wise. He's so wise. He knew some things. When you have to explain to a child at eight what suicide means. What mass murder means. What matricide side means, they grow up differently. But also, when your child has supportive love in communities, they have a greater chance at surviving this. So that's what we pray for.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
We prayed that night, and I say this regularly when we came home that we were aware we had lost one child, that we would not lose this other one or stray from the path of knowing how to raise him. Because they write a lot of books about child rearing but they don't write a lot of books about growing up a surviving child when a six-year-old is lost, is murdered, by a mass shooter. They don't write those books. So we just tried every day to live honestly, to talk to him in age-appropriate ways.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
And one decision we made that I'm very proud of is we always said, "If you are looking for truth, you will find it at home. We are never going to keep something from you. We are never going to not explain something for you. We want you to learn it at home. So all these things people are saying. You have a question, come home. We'll be here." And I think that really helped develop some trust.
Farai Chideya:
Ah, that's amazing that rite of passage for Black and Brown boys in America is... Adolescence is already so fraught. And I can only imagine with everything you've had to deal with, still you are a licensed family therapist. You are a healer. And why did you take that path before any of this even happened?
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
So I was a teacher, and I was finding in my classrooms that the students who did better, who got better were students who had family involvement. And that made me super curious about family therapy. So I dabbled in social work, took a class in a few other programs, maybe counseling, and then I decided in marriage and family therapy. I also have a pretty extensive personal history of trauma.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
I have a adverse childhood experience score of nine. My first goal round with gun violence wasn't December 14th. I was five years old. So I think it's my own narrative and I think let this be a message to anyone listening that it's not your job to heal other people when you have an extensive trauma history. But your story shared can create different pathways for people as they consider their own journeys.
Farai Chideya:
Let me just ask you, based on what you just said, just close your eyes and think about yourself as maybe a four-year-old and whoever you were in the world, and she learns about you in an age-appropriate way as who you are now. What do you think she would say to you?
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
Why does that question bring tears to my eyes?
Farai Chideya:
Yeah, it's hard. It's hard to reach back to our younger selves sometimes.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
I think she would be pretty impressed. I think she would say, "That could be me." And I remember being 4, 5, 6, 7 and not having that many Puerto Rican female role models. So that would be incredibly important in that way too.
Farai Chideya:
Yeah. Yeah. I just want to say that it is tremendous to hear about the academy opening in your daughter's name and all of the work that you have done with Ana Grace, but also the work that you have done with yourself. You clearly are someone who is a fully realized person in your words, deeds, and actions. And I'm just so grateful, Nelba, that you made time for us.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
Thank you for that. And I want other survivors to know that this is possible for them and that they deserve this. There are many roads built for survivors, but I hope all of those roads include self-care, self-love, and self-compassion.
Farai Chideya:
Truer words. Thank you again.
Nelba Marquéz-Greene:
Thank you.
Farai Chideya:
That was Nelba Marquéz-Greene, mother of Ana Grace Marquéz-Greene, an executive director of the Ana Grace Project.
Farai Chideya:
You are listening to our Body Politic. I'm Farai Chideya, and this week we're revisiting some of our top conversations on gun violence. Last year we spoke with activist Samaria Rice on the same day a Minneapolis jury convicted former police officer Derek Chauvin of Murder. The verdict came nearly a year after video of Chauvin kneeling on George Floyd until he died sent shockwaves across the country.
Farai Chideya:
Samaria's son, Tamir Rice, was 12 years old when he was shot and killed by a police officer in Cleveland, Ohio. He had been playing with a toy gun. The City of Cleveland later made a financial settlement without admitting wrongdoing. The Justice Department has refused to reopen the federal investigation into Tamir's killing. Ahead of the Justice Department's decision, a group of 50 legal scholars urged the federal agency to clarify its interpretation of laws on prosecuting police. Samaria, now the founder and CEO of the Tamir Rice Foundation, has also criticized the Justice Department's decision.
Farai Chideya:
The police officer who killed Tamir, Timothy Loehmann, was never charged for his death. In 2017, Loehmann was fired for lying on his original application for the Cleveland job. A previous police department he worked for said he had lied, been insubordinate, and had a, quote, inability to emotionally function. He worked briefly for an Ohio Village in 2018 and was later hired by a Rural Pennsylvania Department in 2022.
Farai Chideya:
In both cases, public outrage forced Loehmann to quit just days after being hired. Samaria continues to honor Tamir's legacy. In July, she dedicated a butterfly memorial garden in his honor at Cudell Recreation Center. Here's our conversation. Ms. Samaria Rice, thank you for being on the show.
Samaria Rice:
I appreciate y'all having me. Thank you.
Farai Chideya:
So we are speaking with you on the day of the verdict of Derek Chauvin. Officer Chauvin guilty on all counts. We're taping right after this happened. How are you feeling right now? What are you thinking right now?
Samaria Rice:
For the most part, I am relieved to hear that we have a conviction, right. But with the conviction, we see officers that go to jail, and they serve 10 months, 18 months, two years, five years. That is not enough time for the death of anyone by the hands of the police. He should be in jail 20 years or plus far as I'm concerned.
Samaria Rice:
And as far as Tamir's concerned, Timothy Loehmann should be indicted and convicted along with his partner Frank Garmback, indicted and convicted for the murder of my son. My son was killed less than a second, and he should be... and they should both go to jail for the rest of their lives.
Farai Chideya:
Has it been painful for you to watch this trial, the Chauvin trial, knowing that your son's killing did not result in a conviction?
Samaria Rice:
Well, I'm never upset about someone receiving a form of justice. I mean, it has been very emotional and painful just to watch the trial itself because, I know they weren't doing nothing but lying and look like a dog and pony show. That part was very painful because I could remember what I went through in my process of going into the grand jury and me and my children, coming out crying, and they blaming us like it was our fault that Tamir was dead, and I prayed on it.
Samaria Rice:
I actually prayed on a guilty verdict because I did not want to see our people attacked by the militant army of law enforcement people out there or the army that's out there. I just didn't want to see our people get hurt.
Farai Chideya:
Yeah. A lot of people, including me, were also worried about what might happen depending on the verdict. With Tamir's legacy, with George Floyd's legacy, with the legacy of so many people who have died, what do you want these legacies to mean? What do we want to build from here?
Samaria Rice:
Well, I will hope that each family can develop a way to honor and give back to the community. That's what I'm doing in the Tamir Rice Legacy. Building a center to offer after-school free programming for inner-city children, creating a safe place just to make sure that these children have the exposure that they may not get by living in the inner city.
Samaria Rice:
Well, I think my way of building Tamir's legacy is also giving me a little bit of healing and to make sure that my son did not die in vain and building him a legacy. So I will hope that other family members can develop something and make sure that they're involved in their community and stay connected.
Farai Chideya:
What do you want to see for the kids of Cleveland?
Samaria Rice:
I just want them to know that someone actually cares about their education, their well-being besides their mom and their dad and maybe their family. That a total stranger wants to see them create magic, Black magic. We have so many talented children in the City of Cleveland as we probably have in a lot of our urban communities, and it gets overlooked, and people don't pay attention to them.
Samaria Rice:
So I want to be able to create that uprise of children by investing in them because that's what I did with my children. I invested in my children, and that's how I was able to have three high school graduates all through we went through what horrific trauma by losing Tamir.
Farai Chideya:
When people start talking about the political implications of the deaths of children at the hands of police, people who love their own kids sometimes forget what some of the stakes are in protecting everyone's children. So how do you think both police and lawmakers can make sure that everyone's kids are protected?
Samaria Rice:
I think, at this point, that the higher people up, the powers to be, they know that America has been infiltrated with white supremacy, right. They allowing the government law enforcement to commit genocide on American citizens, right. So who's going to take responsibility for that?
Samaria Rice:
How does the Police Bill of Rights trump the Constitutional Rights? That's what I don't understand. I just feel that the government needs to figure out what part of the country they want and just let us have the other part of the country and just leave us alone.
Farai Chideya:
Something you said really stuck out to me just then, which is that you said they need to give us one part of the country and take the other. And in some ways, that's what Charles Blow, the columnist from the New York Times, said.
Farai Chideya:
He wrote a whole book, The Devil You Know, arguing that Black Americans could relocate many to the South and control a whole block of the country. What do you think of a plan like that to sort of consolidate Black citizens in a place that is effectively Black-controlled?
Samaria Rice:
I do agree with him. I did not know Charles Blow said that. I did an interview with him many, many years ago, and I did not read his book. But if that's what he said to divide the country up, that way, the whites can stay where they need to stay, and we can stay where we need to stay, so be it.
Samaria Rice:
That's where I'm at with this because there's no reconciliation with this. There's no having no conversations, no compromising. What are we going to talk about when we have video coverage of all of these murders?
Farai Chideya:
Let me just also say something that Charles Blow said. He called some of the protests last summer a social justice Coachella, and Coachella is a music festival. So basically saying people were going out in his mind and sort of performing. What do you think of the protest? Have they been helpful, or are they performance or both?
Samaria Rice:
Well, I want to say both because, some of the protests, people protest for freedom of speech and to say what they have to say on what's on their mind, make demands, and things like that. I think those protests makes things uncomfortable if they're done right, when you disrupting traffic or making a strong statement, not necessarily destroying anything or burning anything down. But when you make people uncomfortable... That's what I have been telling people for years.
Samaria Rice:
Make them uncomfortable because it's nothing comfortable about Black and Brown people continue to get killed in America in the 21st century. So continue to make these people uncomfortable. To put on a show about the death of people loved one, it's very disrespectful. And I did not know there was a hustle on Black death, and that's disturbing because my son is no hustle.
Samaria Rice:
So the things that I have seen in the media when it comes to these protestors, these protests, these rallies, especially when I see certain individuals leading them, I can never take them seriously because we've been taking them seriously for so long and we ain't got no change.
Farai Chideya:
I want to end on this note. You know have really given so much of yourself just in this interview. What do you think Tamir would think of what you have done with his legacy?
Samaria Rice:
He would probably be proud of me. He would be proud of me and knowing that I'm really, really trying to make some change. And it's just a tragic. It's a tragic that I have to live my life like this. But I know Tamir will want me to have some peace in my life. So that's what I'm trying to create. I'm trying to create some peace because whatever I do, I don't never regret it. Losing Tamir has destroyed my life. I'm going to be honest with you. Destroyed my family.
Samaria Rice:
America has robbed me of nurturing my son, has robbed me of allowing him to grow up to be a man. I don't even know what my son would never look like because I don't would never know what he's... I only got a vision of him being a little boy, and how sad is that? But I'm still here, and I'm working to make sure that we all are okay at the end of the day. That's all I can do.
Farai Chideya:
Ms. Rice, thank you so much for joining us on the show.
Samaria Rice:
Thank you guys for having me and it was a pleasure.
Farai Chideya:
That was Samaria Rice, mother of Tamir Rice and Founder and CEO of the Tamir Rice Foundation. Gun violence has touched the lives of many people across the country, and killings by officers are only one subset of that violence. Black Americans are disproportionately likely to be shot and killed by police, particularly by white officers. The list of high-profile cases includes Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, and Michael Brown.
Farai Chideya:
But Black and Brown Americans have also spoken up with the desire for fair law enforcement in their neighborhoods. The desire for stronger law enforcement was one reason former NYPD police captain Eric Adams was able to win his race for mayor of New York City. There's a long tradition of Black and Brown police officers. Some have challenged discrimination in their departments while defending the law, while others have found a path to leadership.
Farai Chideya:
Next, we revisit a conversation with former Dallas Police Chief Reneé Hall on the eve of her retirement in December 2020. A member of the National Organization of Black Law Enforcement Executives, today Hall remains an advocate for improving public safety and community relationships with police. You'll hear from her next.
Reneé Hall:
At the time that my mom died to tell me, "Well, that's not important. My mom died too." That's the equivalent of telling someone that Blue Lives Matter when their argument is that Black Lives Matter.
Farai Chideya:
You are listening to Our Body Politic. Welcome back to Our Body Politic. We're now going to turn back to an interview from just a few weeks after we launched our show. Former Dallas Police Chief Reneé Hall spoke with us about following in the footsteps of her father, a Detroit police officer killed in the line of duty.
Farai Chideya:
During our conversation, Hall discussed the challenges of building community trust. She also reflected on a critical moment during the 2020 uprising. Reneé Hall is currently a fellow in Harvard University's Advanced Leadership Initiative. Let's listen. Chief Hall, thank you so much for joining us.
Reneé Hall:
Thank you so much for having me.
Farai Chideya:
So you are, from what I understand, a Delta. You're obviously a daughter. You're a police chief. When you are with your friends and your family, how do you think that they perceive you? You have a lot of different things that you are. Who are you with your people?
Reneé Hall:
When I'm with my people, I'm Reneé. When I am the chief of police, I'm Reneé. When I'm a Delta, I'm Reneé. I am a child of God. And I recognize that everything that has been given to me has been given through His grace. But I do recognize that it is all given, and what is given can also be taken. So none of this defines me. I am Reneé Hall each and every single day.
Farai Chideya:
When you talk about what can be taken, I can't help but think about your father's story, who was killed in the line of duty as a police officer when you were just a baby. How do you think of the contribution he made, and how did it shape who you are?
Reneé Hall:
This is a great question because I had no desire to be the police. My whole life, if you had asked me, I was going to be a lawyer. But my grandmother used to say, "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans." And so I just believe that my father's death... I was six months old when he was killed in the City of Detroit.
Reneé Hall:
I believe now that there was unfinished work, and I just believe that all things work together for the good. My journey through law enforcement, I was elevated up very rapidly. It seemed like everything I touched I was successful, and I just believed that was my father living through me.
Farai Chideya:
What's the thing you're most proud about from your tenure?
Reneé Hall:
This job, for me, has always been about community, building relationships, and bringing people together. And for as far back as I can remember, there has been tumultuous relationships between police departments and community. And when I was in the City of Detroit, I was responsible for creating a Community Engagement Program that all new recruits who came out of the academy had to spend one week in the community, feeding the homeless, visiting with seniors.
Reneé Hall:
So this community engagement program shaped and molded our new officers so that they truly understood what their role was and that we were no different than the people that we were responsible for serving. And that once you understand who people are, you have a different outcome when you encounter them. And I'll give you an example.
Reneé Hall:
When they were sitting in a session with some of the individuals who had been incarcerated and they were in the reintegration program, and the guy was telling his story about his life and how he ended up in prison. And how, since he's been out, all he was trying to do was live a better life, and everyone constantly reminded him of where he had been and who he was.
Reneé Hall:
And that when he was pulled over by police, the second they saw that he had a SID number, they became very aggressive to him and very accusatory. And he was getting his life together. He was working. He was participating in this program and giving back to the kids. And so you had officers who were in tears. Who saw this individual as someone who had made some mistakes and was trying to get it together.
Reneé Hall:
And those were the things that I was able to create in the Detroit Police Department by creating a community engagement process that humanized both the police and the community regardless to what your background was and regardless to what you had done in your past. So I'm very grateful to have been able to strengthen those relationships. And here in the City of Dallas, a place that has a history of racial divide and segregation.
Reneé Hall:
When I arrived here, there was community groups and activists of all races, nationalities who had tumultuous relationships with the police department. And they had been trying for 40 years to get an oversight board, someone who could put checks and balances in place for the police department. And it was under my leadership because I was very supportive of an Oversight Board. Had grew up with one in the City of Detroit, and I knew how important it was for building relationships and trust and legitimacy.
Reneé Hall:
And so, alongside of the coalition with the support of the city manager, who supported me 100%, get a unanimous vote from council to have an Oversight Board. And all of our associations were on board as well. So I'm very proud of that to say that is a milestone that we were able to accomplish, and it's going to move and work to build stronger, more productive relationships between our police and our community here in the City of Dallas.
Farai Chideya:
In your resignation letter, you talked about a series of unimaginable events that happened in Dallas, and your city has been through it with before you became chief. Officers shot in cold blood by an African American man who had served in the Army reserve in Afghanistan. And then, of course, all the racial reckoning and uprisings. This has been a lot. How do you make sense of it now?
Reneé Hall:
When I read the Bible, I think about Esther. And in Esther, Mordecai told her that she was called for such a time as this. And I believe that all that has taken place, I was the person that needed to be at the helm because if not, then I would not have been. And so this has been a very tumultuous year. There has been events that we could not imagine, but if not me, then who? And if not now, then when?
Reneé Hall:
And so what God has allowed me to have is the ability to have stood in the battle, to have made decisions that I saw fit for our agency, for our city, and to make some of the most challenging decisions in the history of this country and of this city. And I believe that you're called to do certain things. When I arrived, what was very trying and tough was the fact that the officers here in the City of Dallas had been through one of the most horrific times in their lives.
Five officers, four from Dallas and one from [inaudible 00:38:43] sister police department, were killed. And so arriving here with that much hurt, pain, and brokenness from the community, because we're talking about community groups who were marching at the time of this and had planned this actual protest, and here was the result. And so this is not to lay blame on anyone, but it is another incident that tears at the relationship between the police and the community. And so coming in there had to be healing.
Reneé Hall:
When you're broken, you have to heal. So one of the things that's different about me than probably most chiefs across the country and definitely here in the City of Dallas is they've never had a praying police chief. And so I would open up our command staff meeting some mornings with prayer. I have never been ashamed of my faith and always giving people an opportunity to know that, to seek a higher being.
Reneé Hall:
Also, bringing forth wellness programs for the department and that is letting our officers know that it is okay not to be okay. It's just not okay to stay there. So making sure that they were comfortable acknowledging if they were feeling stressed or maybe their hearts were heavy or if they just needed to talk to someone and making those resources available, creating larger peer programs, creating opportunities with doctors.
Reneé Hall:
We have five clinical psychologists assigned to the Dallas Police Department and creating opportunities for them. During the pandemic, we got very creative. We had the docs do videos to make sure that they stayed in touch with the officers and let them know we're here. And just always having a opportunity via social media. We sent out through our public information office, sometimes weekly, daily, the numbers available to our officers because it's not just seven-seven, but it's each and every day that they go out and see things that are not normal.
Reneé Hall:
Even when you're at war, you only see battle and killing for a length of time, a small period of time. But when you spend 20, 30 years in law enforcement, you're seeing it every day. And so we have to make sure that our officers are whole mind, body, and spirit. And so it was an opportunity for me to do what I believe in, and that is being holistic, praying, and giving our officers the resources that they need that they could be successful while doing the job.
Reneé Hall:
And understanding that it takes more than just this tough exterior shell to do the job. That you have to own those things that challenge you. My grandmother used to say, "If you don't deal with it will deal with you." And so I was able to, sitting in this seat, provide those resources to the officer. So I'm thankful for that.
Farai Chideya:
You are listening to Our Body Politic. This week we're revisiting conversations about gun violence and policing. Let me ask about a moment that was one where your department got criticized for detaining a bunch of protestors after George Floyd was killed, I believe on the fourth night of protest, but not filing charges against them. If you had to go back in time, and this was hundreds of protestors, would you have made the same call, and why did you make that decision?
Reneé Hall:
So that night, detaining those individuals was about order. It was about law, and it was about maintaining the safety of the officers who were present, the city as a whole, our community members, and businesses. And that decision was made because those 700 protestors went on a bridge where that was an actual freeway, and they were not permitted to do that. We did not have the opportunity to block off traffic for those individuals.
Reneé Hall:
So there was traffic coming onto the bridge while individuals were walking. Our officers had to break posts that we had organized and staged for their safety to then stop traffic on the other side of the freeway. This was a crowd who had determined that they were going to break the law. And it was clear direction prior to that if you break the law that you were going to go to jail.
Reneé Hall:
There was civil unrest in the City of Dallas like we had never ever seen over the last three days, and we were just not having another day of that. And so we needed to make sure that people knew that that certain behavior was not going to be tolerated. You cannot take over a freeway. It is unfair to the individuals who are trying to get to work, pick their children up from school. Whatever your required activity is, we just don't have the ability to stop that progress. And that was breaking the law.
Reneé Hall:
And so this was an opportunity and a conversation that, "Here's what we expect and if you go beyond this, here are what the consequences are." We arrested some 670 people on a bridge. And if I had to do it again, I would arrest 670 people on a bridge if it meant keeping the officer safe, the community safe, and not allowing those individuals to tear up any more property in the City of Dallas.
Farai Chideya:
Well, as you're talking, I can't help but think about how Black Lives Matter as a movement and a slogan has been met by some people with Blue Lives Matter, which usually means that people are opposed to the Black Lives Matter movement and specifically, it's around supporting police, but it's a very oppositional framework. But someone like you is a blue life and a Black life. How do you make sense of that?
Reneé Hall:
So I think you make sense of it by stating the obvious that you don't have to be one or the other. Why can't you be both? I've been a Black woman for 49 years, and I've also been a police officer for 22. So at no time when I became a police officer did that negate or take away or stop me from being a Black woman. So how can blue lives matter and Black lives not? And how can Black lives matter and blue lives not? I happen to be both, and there's so many of us in this country that are both.
Reneé Hall:
And so I think what happens is we have to respect each of them for what they are. It's no different than if, at the time, that my mom died to tell me, "Well, that's not important. My mom died too." That's the equivalent of telling someone that Blue Lives Matter when their argument is that Black Lives Matter. It's not that blue lives doesn't matter, but right now, it's about Black lives. And so, no different than when it's my mom. It's my mom. Yes, you may have lost your mom, and that's important, but today we're talking about mine.
Reneé Hall:
And so I think that once we respect and understand that each of them are important, but we have to give people an opportunity to grieve and seek justice in their own space. And I think that is when we truly are able to have the mutual conversation. Because it's no question that you can be both Black and blue. I happen to be Black and blue, and I'm proud of both. I know that there's work to do in Black lives, and there's a lot of work to do in blue lives. And being a police chief has allowed me to make those necessary adjustments.
Farai Chideya:
Why did you decide to resign? There were definitely many, many circumstances that you had to deal with, including a white female officer who killed a Black male neighbor of hers and was later convicted of murder. What was behind your decision since you are so committed to this work?
Reneé Hall:
So I think every police chief makes a decision when it's time to move on and do different things. The average tenure for any police chief is about three to five years. After three years, I've had a lot of opportunities. People had approached me for other jobs.
Reneé Hall:
And it was just at this time where I felt like it was time for me to take my position, take my voice, and take my passion to another level and to do something different with that. I'm very happy with that choice, and I am wishing the next police chief the ultimate best. I will not be far from law enforcement, but I believe that greater work is done beyond the level of a police chief.
Farai Chideya:
If you could have the Dallas and the America that you wanted, what would be different?
Reneé Hall:
One of the things that I think though is truly important is a united country and a united city. We seem so divided. So if anything, I see us coming together because we all have one common goal. And that is to live in a world that's free of crime, that we love each other harmoniously, that people are able to go to and from in their day, raise their children, put their kids through college, and just live healthy whole lives.
Reneé Hall:
And I think that's first done by us understanding how important it is to be united at one level. I'm not successful until everyone is successful and especially everyone who looks like me successful. And if I had my perfect world, there would be neighborhoods where everybody lived. There wouldn't be south of I-30 is Black and north of I-30 is white and east and west is Hispanic. It's not realistic. It keeps us divided on so many levels. And a house divided against itself will never stand.
Farai Chideya:
Chief Hall, really, thank you for spending time with us, and best with whatever your next adventure is.
Reneé Hall:
Thank you, and God bless.
Farai Chideya:
That was former Chief Reneé Hall of the Dallas, Texas Police Department.
Farai Chideya:
Thanks for listening to Our Body Politic. We're on the air each week and everywhere you listen to podcasts. Our Body Politic is produced by Diaspora Farms. I'm the host and executive producer, Farai Chideya. Nina Spensleyis also executive producer. Bianca Martin and Emily Daly are our senior producers. Bridget McAllister and Traci Caldwell are our booking producers. Anoa Changa and Steve Lack are our producers. Natyna Bean and Emily Ho are our associate producers. Kelsey Kudak is our fact checker.
Farai Chideya:
For some re-broadcast segments in this episode, Juleyka Lantigua was executive producer. Paulina Velasco was senior producer. Jen Chien was executive editor. Cedric Wilson was lead producer. Julie Zann was talent consultant. Original music by Kojin Tashiro. Additional production was by Priscilla Alabi, Mark Betancourt, Sarah McClure, and Kojin Tashiro.
Farai Chideya:
Production and editing services are by Clean Cuts at Three Seas. Today's episode was produced with the help of Lauren Schild and engineered by Archie Moore.
Farai Chideya:
This program is produced with support from the Ford Foundation, Craig Newmark Philanthropies, the Charles and Lynn Schusterman Family Philanthropies, Democracy Fund, The Harnisch Foundation, Compton Foundation, the Heising-Simons Foundation, the BMe Community, Katie McGrath & JJ Abrams Family Foundation, and from generous contributions from listeners like you.