Beyond Vengeance
Recently, a jury in Florida determined that Nickolas Cruz, the young man who killed 17 people at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland would be sentenced to life in prison. Cruz had pled guilty to first-degree murder in connection with the February 14, 2018 shooting of 14 students and three staff members. The killings touched off massive student led campaign against gun violence. Because of the guilty plea, the only question before the jury was whether Cruz would be put to death or endure life in prison. Under Florida law the jury must unanimously agree to the death penalty. In this case, three people insisted on voting for life in prison.
Not surprisingly, the response to the decision to spare his life has been met by public outcry. Republican Governor Ron DeSantis and his Democratic challenger Charlie Crist agreed, “There are crimes for which the only just penalty is death.” Parents of the slain children were widely quoted saying, “The jury failed our families” and “I pray that animal suffers.”
Most people in this country agree with the outrage and betrayal voiced by these parents. A 2021 Pew Research survey found that six in ten adults strongly or somewhat strongly favor the death penalty and 64% say the death penalty is “morally justified.” The penalty is upheld even though the majority recognize it is unfairly applied against people of color and it does not deter people from committing crimes. The majority also recognize that there are not enough safeguards to protect innocent people from being executed.
Perhaps it is this tension that has led to the decline in use the death penalty over the last decade. While 27 states authorize capital punishment, executions have become increasingly rare. With the notable exception of Donald Trump’s accelerated use of the death penalty, the overall trend since 1990 has been a decrease in use. A growing number of states have outlawed it, including Virginia in 2021. Virginia had carried out more executions than any state except Texas since 1976.
I cannot imagine the grief of these parents. But I can imagine another way to respond beyond vengeance and hate. That is because I have seen parents who suffered this unimaginable pain find their way to a deeper sense of our shared, flawed humanity. They have found a way to embrace radical love.
Amid the crack epidemic in Detroit, 42 children were killed in one year by other children wielding guns. This was more than three times the number killed in Parkland. Another 300 children were shot. Because these shootings happened one by one, often out of sight of the media’s interest they went largely unnoticed. Until Clementine Barfield had two of her three sons shot. Derick, 16, died instantly. Roger would die more slowly, carrying a bullet for more than 30 years. Out of her grief and pain, Ms. Barfield organized the mothers of other slain children, ultimately forging Save Our Sons and Daughters (SOSAD). SOSAD became a leader in the national Urban Peace and Justice movement. This movement provided support for victims and their families, took on the task of reducing gun violence, held public vigils, workshops and youth programs.
SOSAD refused to seek retribution and vengeance. Rather, Ms. Barfield frequently said, every murder means we as a community lose two people, one to the grave and one to prison. SOSAD called upon people to pledge to work to provide “our children with an opportunity to develop as human beings.” SOSAD insisted that children belong to the community and ending violence is a collective responsibility. The contrast between the parents of Parkland and the mothers of SOSAD could not be starker. SOSAD reminds us we can choose the values we embrace to create the future.