Philly mothers of gun violence victims work to solve their children's murders

MinneapolUS puts unarmed community members on Minneapolis streets to prevent street violence, part of the city's effort to redirect resources from the police to other crime-prevention efforts. Four teams of 20 to 30 members, many of them former gang members and formerly incarcerated, have intervened in beatings and potential shootings. They use a public-health approach pioneered by the organization Cure Violence, which has proven effective in other cities.

After two failed attempts, Oakland Ceasefire retooled its approach and since 2013 has been a significant factor in lowering homicides and nonfatal shootings. The program, used in various ways in many cities, identifies young men at high risk of getting shot or shooting others and then offers them life coaching and social services to keep them out of trouble. By de-emphasizing the role of police, pinpointing those most in need of help, boosting community involvement, and forming deeper personal relationships, the program is credited with a 32% reduction in gun homicides over a six-year study.

Little Earth Protectors is one of several community patrol groups that emerged in Minneapolis' unrest after George Floyd's death in police custody. Named for a mostly Native American neighborhood with high rates of violence, the Protectors filled a vacuum left by short-staffed police who had lost support in the community. Patrolling the streets, usually unarmed, the Protectors mediate disputes, discourage drug and prostitution activity, and guard against property destruction. Seven larger groups doing this work have been given city contracts to provide their services if civil unrest breaks out again.

Like many cities, Seattle is looking to Eugene, Oregon, for a model to shift resources from police to unarmed crisis responders handling 911 calls about mental health, addiction, family conflict, and other non-criminal problems. Eugene's CAHOOTS program has been doing such work for half a century, and since 1989 sending medic-and-counselor teams on calls. In 2019 it saved $8 million in police costs and $14 million for ambulances and emergency room visits. But, while taking police out of situations where they might cause more problems than they solve, it's only as good as its region's social services.

For 50 hours over five days, police and community members collaborated on the Brownsville Safety Alliance pilot project, which kept police officers away from a longtime crime hotspot so that community members could provide for police-free public safety. During the experiment, no one in the neighborhood called 911 to report a serious crime. Criminologists caution that the test does not prove that police can step away permanently. But residents say that after longstanding friction over policing, they and the police struck a new tone of cooperation in community-led crime prevention that they hope can continue.

In their Group Violence Intervention program, Kalamazoo police use "custom notifications" to intervene before street violence erupts. Working in tandem with community groups, the police tell likely shooters that more violence will get them arrested and imprisoned, but stopping now will be rewarded with job help and other services. Progress is slow. It gets measured one by one as young men get jobs and stay out of trouble. The pandemic disrupted the program, followed by a surge in violence. Community members praise the approach as an alternative to overly aggressive policing, but want more services programs.

Two years after reorganizing a police gun-enforcement unit to focus it on an evidence-based approach to preventing retaliatory shootings, Portland city leaders abolished the unit in a round of police budget cuts and failed to reinvest that money in community-based alternatives that don't rely on the police. The result, criminologists say, is a worst-case scenario: a policing reform that creates a vacuum and could be to blame for an alarming spike in gun violence. The most effective solutions, they say, blend effective policing with proven community-based programs.

Rock Safe Streets in the Red Fern Public Houses of Far Rockaway, Queens, ramped up its violence interrupter work starting in 2020 as gun violence increased. Red Fern then went nearly a year without a single shooting. Violence interrupters work apart from the police, banking on the community's trust in formerly incarcerated counselors to mediate disputes before they turn violent. Success is measured in daily increments, and many other factors influence community violence. But the residents do what they can to influence those driving the violence.

While homicides in St. Louis in the first part of 2021 increased over already-high numbers in recent years, three neighborhoods served by a new Cure Violence program showed significant decreases in homicides, assaults, and robberies. Cure Violence, a national program, puts "violence interrupters" on the streets to intervene before arguments turn deadly and to provide people with services they need. In one neighborhood, Dutchtown, interrupters say they prevented 87 incidents in less than seven months. The city now is trying to find the money to expand the program to more areas of the city.

Following the death of Daniel Prude in Rochester police custody, the city consulted with the operators of Eugene's CAHOOTS program to craft its own version of a team of unarmed responders to help resolve mental health or substance abuse crises without the use of violence. Rochester's Person In Crisis (PIC) team has averaged about 21 calls per day since January. All calls are made with the police in tandem, unlike CAHOOTS' model. Some violent incidents in Rochester have raised questions about PIC's ability to defuse conflict. But the operators say they have begun to make a positive difference.