By Sikivu Hutchinson
Gentleman. Man of God.
Deeply religious. These are some
of the descriptions given to the estranged husband, stalker, batterer and
murderer of San Bernardino special needs teacher Karen
Smith. Smith’s recent slaying by
husband Cedric Anderson was yet another tragic and unacceptable reminder of how
black women’s experiences with intimate partner violence have deadly
consequences that go unaddressed. Smith
and 8 year-old student Jonathan Martinez were slain by her estranged husband in
her classroom (9 year-old Nolan Brandy was wounded in the attack). She was widely viewed as
a dedicated
teacher who had a talent for connecting with autistic youth. Like many
unsung black women teachers working in obscurity, Smith was on the frontlines
of providing equitable opportunities for students of color.
As a former stalking and intimate
partner violence victim my heart went out to Smith and her young student. Once
again, the ostensibly “safe” space of the classroom had been turned into a killing
field and trauma site. Smith had taken the courageous step of leaving her husband—a move that many women are unable
to make. A self-proclaimed pastor, Anderson had a long
history of threatening and abusing other women partners. Descriptions of him as a “pastor and a man of
god” are disconcertingly similar to shopworn portrayals
of seemingly gentle, morally upstanding mass murderers and serial killers. For
male predators, so-called religious authority has historically provided cover
for institutionalized abuse and misogynist violence toward women and girls. The
imprimatur of being faith-based often gives black men carte blanche to abuse
and exploit with impunity because of the respect that these roles command in
African American communities. Virtually
without fail, the abusive behavior of “faith-based” black men is attributed to
the individual having “strayed” from faith or the bible; a text that condones brutal
violence against women.
Each year thousands of black women are
shot, stabbed, stalked, brutalized and murdered in crimes that never make it on
the national radar. Black women
experience intimate partner and domestic violence at a rate of 35% higher than do white women. They are also more likely than whites to be
teen dating violence victims. And while
intimate partner violence is a leading
cause of death for black women, they are seldom viewed as proper victims
and are rarely cast as total innocents.
When black women defend themselves, they are more likely to be
criminalized, as per the example of Marissa Alexander, who was infamously
slapped with a mandatory minimum twenty year prison sentence after firing a
warning shot at her abusive ex-spouse (a serial abuser who, like Anderson, had
a history of violence against his former partners). Commenting on the Alexander
case in the Daily Beast, Rita Smith
of the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence said,
“When a woman or minority is claiming they are defending themselves, they don’t
get the benefit of the doubt…Most battered women who kill in self-defense end
up in prison. There is a well-documented bias against women [in these
cases].” And the reality is that black women are three times more likely than
white women to be tried, convicted and incarcerated for felony offenses.
The pervasive media demonization of black women
violence victims is a key factor in this nexus of intimate partner violence and
criminalization. Several years ago, a group of white high school students in
New York thought it would be cool to don blackface and reenact
the 2009 beating of pop star Rihanna by Chris Brown at a pep rally. Like the gleefully bloodthirsty white
audiences that gathered to view 20th century lynchings, there has
always been a robust market for white consumption of black female pain. Similarly, the 2013 James Brown biopic Get On Up, in which Brown was depicted
brutally beating his female partner, gave the impression that charismatic black
men slapping black women around was a norm that couldn’t be challenged. The erasure of rapper and TV personality Dee
Barnes’ violent abuse at the hands of Dr. Dre became a central focus of black feminist
criticism
of the blockbuster film Straight Outta
Compton. Recent violent incidents involving black women victims and black male
athletes have increased the visibility of intimate partner violence against
African American women.
Unsurprisingly, the most prominent
representation of domestic violence as a national cause célèbre was the murder
of Nicole Brown Simpson. After O.J. Simpson
was acquitted of murdering Brown Simpson white America wanted his scalp. Nicole
was the perfect victim, the beautiful tragic heroine who died too young at the
hands of a savage. The trial of the
century hinged on redeeming a white woman’s honor and bringing her Negro killer
to justice. Brown Simpson was grieved
globally, transformed into a symbol of the deadliness of intimate partner
violence and a martyr of a legal system run amok. This year, the legacy of the murder was
further canonized by two TV productions that won boatloads of awards.
The everyday stories of black women domestic and
intimate partner violence victims have yet to receive this kind of treatment. And
the intersectional issues that black women face vis-à-vis, intimate partner
violence and mental health provision are often marginalized. For example, women are the fastest growing
population among the homeless and a majority of them have been victims of
sexual and/or domestic violence. One
third of the homeless population in L.A. County is female. Fifty
percent of the homeless are African American.
Domestic violence shelters burst at the seams and re-victimization is
common. As the poorest, most
underpaid women in the workforce, women of color suffer disproportionately from
the dismantling of mental health care, affordable housing and violence prevention
and intervention.
To be sure, there is a deep
connection between the current backlash against women’s human rights and mainstream
society’s messages about “acceptable” violence.
The Christian fascist propaganda of
the Trump and the white Religious Right promotes a legislative agenda based on
the belief that women’s bodies are vessels, hosts for fetuses who have civil rights,
“pussies to be grabbed” and T&A to be sold to the highest bidder. But the
complicity of communities of color that look the other way when black women are
being terrorized is a lethal enabler.
For information on ways to help Smith’s family and the North Park Elementary Community:
