Murder Town, USA: Homicide, Structural Violence, and Activism in Wilmington

Murder Town, USA

Critical Issues in Crime and Society

RAYMOND J. MICHALOWSKI AND LUIS A. FERNANDEZ, SERIES EDITORS

Critical Issues in Crime and Society is oriented toward critical analysis of contemporary problems in crime and justice. The series is open to a broad range of topics including specific types of crime, wrongful behavior by economically or politically powerful actors, controversies over justice system practices, and issues related to the intersection of identity, crime, and justice. It is committed to offering thoughtful works that will be accessible to scholars and professional criminologists, general readers, and students.

For a list of titles in the series, see the last page of the book.

Murder Town, USA

HOMICIDE, STRUCTURAL VIOLENCE, AND ACTIVISM IN WILMINGTON

YASSER ARAFAT PAYNE, BROOKLYNN K. HITCHENS, AND DARRYL L. CHAMBERS

RUTGERS UNIVERSITY PRESS

New Brunswick, Camden, and Newark, New Jersey

London and Oxford

Rutgers University Press is a department of Rutgers, The State University of New Jersey, one of the leading public research universities in the nation. By publishing worldwide, it furthers the University’s mission of dedication to excellence in teaching, scholarship, research, and clinical care.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Payne, Yasser Arafat, author. | Hitchens, Brooklynn K., author. | Chambers, Darryl L., author.

Title: Murder town, USA : homicide, structural violence, and activism in Wilmington / Yasser Arafat Payne, Ph.D., University of Delaware, Brooklynn Hitchens, Ph.D., University of Maryland, College Park and Darryl L. Chambers, M.A., University of Delaware.

Description: New Brunswick : Rutgers University Press, 2023. | Series: Critical issues in crime and society | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2022046048 | ISBN 9781978817364 (paperback) | ISBN 9781978817371 (hardback) | ISBN 9781978817388 (epub) | ISBN 9781978817401 (pdf)

Subjects: LCSH: Violence—Delaware—Wilmington. | Homicide—Delaware—Wilmington. | Gun control—Delaware—Wilmington. | Crime prevention—Delaware—Wilmington.

Classification: LCC HM886 .P39 2023 | DDC 303.609751/2—dc23/eng/20221227

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022046048

A British Cataloging-in-Publication record for this book is available from the British Library.

Copyright © 2023 by Yasser Arafat Payne, Brooklynn K. Hitchens, and Darryl L. Chambers

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. Please contact Rutgers University Press, 106 Somerset Street, New Brunswick, NJ 08901. The only exception to this prohibition is fair use as defined by U.S. copyright law.

References to internet websites (URLs) were accurate at the time of writing. Neither the author nor Rutgers University Press is responsible for URLs that may have expired or changed since the manuscript was prepared.

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CONTENTS

Introduction: Street Identity, Structural Violence, and Street PAR

PART I

CONTEXT OF OPPORTUNITYAND VIOLENCE

1 A City of Banks: A Long Legacy of Economic Violence and Crime

2 Welcome to Wilmington—A Place to Be Somebody: Negotiating City Culture and Building Rapport

3 Murder Town, USA: Reframing Gun Violence and Resilience in a Small City

PART II

MANAGEMENT, CONTAINMENT, AND THE SOCIAL CONTROL OF BLACK WILMINGTON

4 I’m Still Waiting Man … on That Golden Ticket! Education and Economic Justice, a Dream Deferred— in Perpetuity

5 F-ck the Police! Standing Up to the Policing Machine

6 I Don’t Let These Felonies Hold Me Back! How the Streets Radically Reframed Re-entry

PART III

STREET AGENCY: COPING WITH AND ENDING THE STRUCTURAL VIOLENCE COMPLEX

7 Brenda’s Got a Baby: Competing Roles of Black Women as Matriarchs and Hustlers

8 Street Love: How Psychological and Social Well-Being Interrupts Gun Violence

9 Winter Is Coming! White Walkers, Revolutionary Change, and the Streets Call for Structural Transformation

Conclusion: Calling for a Radical Street Ethnography: Street PAR, SOR Theory, and the Bottom Caste

Notes

Bibliography

Index

Murder Town, USA

Introduction

STREET IDENTITY, STRUCTURAL VIOLENCE, AND STREET PAR

Capitalism was built on the exploitation and suffering of Black slaves and continues to thrive on the experience of the poor.

—Martin Luther King Jr., The Three Evils of Society

The quest for the emancipation of Black people in the U.S. has always been a quest for economic liberation.

—Angela Davis, interview with Frontline

All ethnographies are exploitative in nature, because … they advance professional careers and status on the backs of others, often the powerless. Researchers are notorious for going into poor communities and taking but rarely giving back—or, as local activists sometimes say, for cutting and running.

—Timothy Black, When a Heart Turns Rock Solid

IT WAS OCTOBER 2009, and we had just selected fifteen research-activists for the Wilmington Street Participatory Action Research (Street PAR) Project to examine gun violence in the Eastside and Southbridge sections of Wilmington, Delaware.¹ Stakeholders were thrilled with the project’s potential, but frankly, some were also concerned that some Street PAR Associates might embarrass them. Most Associates were only a year out of prison, and in Delaware, about 80% recidivated within three years of a serious offense.²

Theoretically, Delaware’s rates of recidivism suggested that many of these Associates would recidivate, and for some stakeholders, a failing, widely supported re-entry program was risky or could easily tarnish their reputations. I am delighted to report that as a professional collective, we were able to deal with those concerns and remain committed to these Associates.

We held a three-hour group orientation in a large boardroom at the United Way of Delaware. After completing a written assignment on their personal aspirations and expectations of the project, several Associates shared their perspectives on homicide in Wilmington.

Melodie Robinson was a married, 28-year-old Black woman and the mother of four sons. Highly respected and cherished in Southbridge, Melodie understood well the needs and interests of street-identified young people in her community. Standing with her written reflection in hand, Melodie asserted, I am a strong Black mother and I need my community to be much better than it is. And I want to play my part in helping.… Way too many in South(bridge) have been killed, and we doing this to each other, because we don’t have much.

Thirty-eight-year-old Corry Wright was originally from Brooklyn, New York. In 2005 he relocated to New Castle, Delaware, to start a better life for himself and his daughter. Intrigued by our discussion on qualitative and quantitative research, Corry perked up when Yasser explained we were going to launch a multimethod street ethnography that centered on a large community survey sample. I also explained that all of the data were important but were valued differently depending on the audience.

Why would [some] value quantitative research more than qualitative research?

Corry responded, "They value numbers. Qualitative is emotion … quantitative is quantity or how much something cost? It’s relative to power. They don’t care about the feelings and emotions." With quick insight, Corry unearthed some of the ongoing tensions in the academy about research rigor.

Excited by the enthusiasm in the room, Charles Madden, executive director of the Wilmington HOPE Commission and institutional partner, added, "Everybody has got to have a voice. And the reason why it is important that we do this project and many more projects like this one, is so that we hear those voices. Many people in this room do not have a voice, that gets heard. Here is a platform for those voices to be heard."

The HOPE Commission was a nonprofit organization founded by Mayor James Baker in 2006 to address Wilmington’s increasing rates of gun violence, incarceration, and recidivism. After a successful street outreach campaign on homicide in 2008, the HOPE Commission called for a Street PAR project in the Eastside and Southbridge. In June 2009, Yasser accepted the role of leading this study, which was strongly supported by an institutional partnership of three universities, five nonprofit organizations, and other public officials.

THE STATE OF WILMINGTON: CORPORATOCRACY AND VIOLENCE IN A SMALL BLACK CITY

Wilmington is a small, deindustrialized town by national standards, but it is also Delaware’s largest and most influential city. And Wilmington truly had a giant personality. Crowned the LLC and corporate capital of the United States, Wilmington is indeed a beacon of wealth, at least for some.³ The underbelly of this corporate leviathan is extreme poverty and a vibrant street culture in the city’s predominately poor Black neighborhoods. Truly a tale of two cities, Wilmington was also labeled Murder Town, USA, the Most Dangerous City in America, and the capital for teenage homicide.⁴

Extreme Black poverty festers alongside extreme white wealth in this divided town; and Wilmington’s smallness made it impossible to escape this shameful reality. Higher-income white neighborhoods such as Cool Spring, Midtown Brandywine, and Downtown Eastside surround and cut through poor Black communities like West Center City, the Northeast, and the Eastside. White wealth gloriously thrives in Wilmington while thousands of Black bodies drown in structural violence. And all of this intersects in too normal a fashion. Very few ever appear to be disturbed by Wilmington’s troubling racialized divide in wealth. Just under the blue skyline of the sterling Bank of America building in Downtown Eastside, poor Blacks struggle to survive on Ninth and North Pine Streets; Ninth and Lombard Streets; and Tenth and Bennett Streets in the Eastside.

Wilmington is nearly 60% Black and 32% white, with a total population of 71,000.⁵ Black residents (30%) experience more than double the poverty than do white residents (11%), and joblessness rates are equally troubling. At the time of our study (2010–2013), unemployment among Blacks (22%) was over five times higher than that of whites (4%). On average, residents in the Eastside and Southbridge earned between $23,375 and $20,221, respectively.⁶

Wilmington was also the third-most violent city of its size, and its homicide per capita rates were consistently higher than those of Philadelphia, Baltimore, Los Angeles, and even Chicago.⁷ Nationally, homicide declined considerably since the mid-1990s, but violent crime and especially homicide increased sharply during this same time period in small, Rust Belt cities like Wilmington.⁸ City size contributed to why Wilmington remained so violent. Victims, perpetrators, and their respective loved ones all lived within minutes of each other, and this proximity pretty much ensured spates of retributive violence. According to Waverly Duck, limited public spaces, proximity between perpetrators and victims, and increased availability of lethal guns were key factors that explained higher homicide rates in small cities.⁹ Smaller municipalities generally had fewer resources to address poverty and violence than larger cities.

Violence in Wilmington also had less to do with a budding drug trade with dealers squabbling over street territory, as was apparent during the 1980s and 1990s. Instead, violent crime had more to do with structurally dislocated young people from a small city avenging in concentrated ways the deaths of brothers, cousins, or close friends.¹⁰

While it was true that the Eastside and Southbridge sometimes grew drunk on cocktails of dis-opportunity, violence, and death, it is critical to underscore that these neighborhoods were concurrently and even more full of love or high levels of social cohesion. Violence sometimes erupted, but strong Black community pride also reigned here. Ironically, the threat and use of violence in the context of compounding inequality also shaped how well-being was achieved in the Eastside and Southbridge.¹¹ On most days, an invisible chessboard of strategic alignments kept the peace. Scores of residents and persons involved with the streets were protected by their family ties, by membership in street crews and gangs, or by knowing people who demonstrated a capacity for violence.

Also, violence was not always understood as a moral wrong by members of the streets and other local residents.¹² In fact, violence was sometimes considered to be a restorative mechanism for peace or relief from the daily hassles and accumulated strain of living in concentrated disadvantage.¹³ Strain theory asserts that not all stressful events are perceived as the same, even within the same social group. When someone perceives their victimization as unjust, they can view violence as a way to minimize the ‘psychic toll of strain’ because it enables people to avoid or escape strain, compensate for the negative effects of strain, and/or satisfy a desire for revenge or retaliation.¹⁴

This alternative perspective on violence was intuitive to local residents, but not so much to outsiders. It was just too difficult or not worth the intellectual energy to ascertain why a crack cocaine dealer exacted gun violence for what he deemed a just reason, or to understand the value in knowing how active gang members cared about their families and neighborhoods. But for the streets, or persons involved in crime as a way of life, this aspect of their social identity did matter, and they did deeply care about their families, close friends, and neighborhoods. And they too abhorred the gun violence. Homicide was a complex social problem, and ameliorating it was possible only by working with the people most affected. It is through a critical, systematic examination of their lived experiences and coping and bonding mechanisms that we can better understand and ultimately help those affected by gun violence.

SITES OF RESILIENCE THEORY: RECONCEPTUALIZING THE STREETS OF WILMINGTON

This book conceptualizes gun violence as a feature of Wilmington’s social identity or as a site of resilience (SOR) for people involved with the streets as a way of life.¹⁵ From this perspective, resilience is not a value-laden construct that simply means good or ethical behavior.¹⁶ Residents in the Eastside and Southbridge made personal choices that were always shaped by their structural realities.¹⁷ For our study, resilience represents the process by which people with a street identity ensure notions of survival, meaning, and life purpose.

Diener, Sapyta, and Suh warned that it was dangerous to impose universal classifications of good and bad mental health outcomes and called for the subjective well-being or the person’s own perspective on health to be incorporated in any evaluation.¹⁸ They argued: By ‘health,’ [scholars] … mean a universally good life that can be objectively verified by scientists.… They follow in the footsteps of … Maslow in their search for universal and objective characteristics of mental health that are free of particular cultural values.… Subjective well-being is a person’s evaluation of his or her life. This valuation can be in terms of cognitive states such as satisfaction with one’s marriage, work, and life, and it could be in terms of ongoing affect, i.e., the presence of positive emotions and moods, and the absence of unpleasant affect.¹⁹

Conservative understandings of universalism among groups have been problematized by others, most notably Aimé Césaire, founder of the Negritude movement in the 1930s and 1940s. African diasporic scholars and activists of the Negritude movement developed pan-African concepts of Blackness or Africanity, and they were deeply committed to challenging global capitalism. Césaire argued that Western colonial powers strategically used the discourse of universalism, humanism, and nation to repress the ethnic-driven political efforts of African and indigenous populations around the world.²⁰ In his seminal work, Discourse on Colonialism, Césaire resisted Western abstract or disembodied universalism that works to strip African and indigenous groups of all their particulars or unique social identities.²¹ Regarding Césaire’s argument on universality, Robin D. G. Kelley writes: He had practically given up on Europe and the old humanism and its claim of universality, opting instead to redefine the ‘universal’ in a way that did not privilege Europe. Césaire explains, ‘I’m not going to confine myself to some narrow particularism. But I don’t intend either to become lost in a disembodied universalism … I have a different idea of a universal. It is a universal rich with all that is particular, rich with all the particulars there are, the deepening of each particular, the coexistence of them all.’ ²² Universalism or colorblind analysis is a racist, insidious epistemological project that centralizes hegemonic, European ways of knowing at the expense of continental and diasporic African people.²³

In concert with Césaire’s rejection of disembodied universalism, we argue that street-identified, Black American men and women craft a multilayered cultural identity and a worldview that resists traditional conceptualizations of deviance or delinquency. Their cultural identity is anything but universal, and their rich identity cannot be easily classified or reduced to a label or diagnosis. As with most groups, their cultural identity is nuanced by a wide assortment of characteristics like race, ethnicity, gender, class, and social location. A street identity is a racial-ethnic and culturally situated social identity that centralizes and governs the group’s attitudinal and behavioral expressions.

According to SOR theory, street life, the streets, and street identity is colloquial and agentic language that represents an ideology centered on personal, social, and economic survival. Street life is also a spectrum of networking behaviors, or bonding and illegal activities deemed to be empowering in distressed environments. Through examination of over four dozen voices and critical perspectives, we found that street life in the Eastside and Southbridge was more aptly characterized as a racial-ethnic, multidimensional, and geographically bounded cultural identity.

Street life is more than just participation in crime. The shooter, the crack cocaine dealer, and the gang member were also doting fathers and mothers, loving life partners, and someone’s children and grandchildren. They knew their continued involvement in the streets could result in bodily injury, incarceration, and even death. Yet, given their life circumstances and commitment to family, taking these extreme risks was perceived to be worth the possible consequences.²⁴

Most people in the streets of Wilmington actually endorsed the same values supported by middle-class white America.²⁵ They wanted to be educated and gainfully employed, they desired a healthy nuclear family, and they too were disheartened by the cycle of gun violence. However, many in the Eastside and Southbridge were not able to adhere to this traditional value system, not because they did not want to, but because of its impracticality in the context of extreme poverty. In agreement with this theoretical perspective, Wilson asserts: The decision to act in ghetto-related ways, although not reflecting internalized values can nonetheless be said to be cultural. The more often certain behavior, such as the pursuit of illegal income, is manifested in a community, the greater will be the readiness on the part of some residents of the community to find that behavior ‘not only convenient but also morally appropriate.’ They may endorse mainstream norms against this behavior in the abstract but then provide compelling reasons and justifications for this behavior, given the circumstances in their community.²⁶

To the naked eye, violence in Wilmington’s neighborhoods appeared random and out of control. But Duck’s local interaction order theory argues that street-identified environments are governed by a locally situated value system that evolved out of the neighborhood’s socioeconomic and political context.²⁷ Over time, the Eastside and Southbridge organically developed informal or unspoken agreements with the streets. This agreement determined the level and degree as well as the location and duration of violence and crime tolerated. Tapping into this local order, street code or social balance required superior racial-ethnic and cultural competence, and understanding these experiences was typically beyond the outsider’s capacity, but a requirement for local residents. Misinterpretation of the code sometimes meant the difference between life and death. Residents in the Eastside and Southbridge were compromised because they understood well what Duck described as the profound contradiction—the difference between what was moral and what was possible to achieve in poor small Black communities: The locally situated character of the social order that composes daily life frames the choices and resources available to people.… A profound contradiction [exists] between the beliefs residents hold and the practices they engage in.… This fundamental contradiction between beliefs and behavior does not reflect on the moral character of individuals. The social order of such neighborhoods rests on the nature of the underground or illegal economic enterprise and the orderly practices necessary to succeed in it, not on what people believe, value, or want for themselves and others.²⁸

I.1. Sites of Resilience Theoretical Framework, Fundamental Prism Model

A street identity was also an intergenerational experience that contained fundamental and cultural components.²⁹ Core individual and structural conditions frame at least five fundamental mechanisms of resilience (see figure I.1). These mechanisms are presumed to be the foundational characteristics that drive all forms of resilience: (1) phenomenology or intersectional standing; (2) relational coping (i.e., key support networks); (3) racial-wealth standing; (4) exposure to structural violence; and (5) exposure to injustice.

The cultural component represents the racial-ethnic dimension of a street identity (see figure I.2). Urban ethnographers,³⁰ journalistic ethnographies,³¹ and autobiographical accounts³² have documented the wide use of race, ethnicity, and culture in street-identified communities. Jackson, for example, found the intersectionality of race, ethnicity, gender, and class was interwoven in the cultural fabric of Black Harlem.³³ He warned that race, ethnicity, and gender are not only epiphenomena of truer class realities but important life-structuring social variables in their own rights, variables that help organize people’s everyday lives and group affiliations in fundamental ways.³⁴

SOR and the Cultural Fabric of Black Wilmington

The Black American experience deeply informs much of the Eastside and Southbridge and larger Black Wilmington. African-centered charter schools, soul food restaurants, blues and jazz events, hip-hop music and culture, grassroots organizations, Black American mosques, as well as rich African Methodist Episcopalian and Baptist traditions all thrived in Wilmington. The streets of the Eastside and Southbridge also took race, ethnicity, and culture seriously. Race was the primary factor by which they assessed their street environments and the people within them. Temperament, personality traits, behavioral mannerisms, and a person’s overall potential and motivations were all tied to racial-ethnic and cultural background. In an effort to evaluate or learn about someone’s intentions, Black residents eagerly inquired about the family lineage and ethnic backgrounds of people they did not know. A small town like Wilmington affords easy opportunities to track down someone’s personal history, social standing, and kinship network—and street-identified Black men and women in Wilmington took every opportunity to do so.

Many in the streets were practicing Black American Sunni Muslims. Men dressed in white thobes with big beards, prayer bumps, and bald heads, and fully garbed women with black burkas, hijabs, or veiled faces populated a large segment of Black Wilmington. Sunni Muslim Black men in the streets also struggled over the Qur’an’s mandate against harming Muslims. Others were followers of the Nation of Islam, Black Moors, Hebrew Israelites, or Christianity, and some just believed in God.

Most Black residents in the Eastside and Southbridge considered the militant activism that poured out of some religious and grassroots organizations to be a notable feature. Reverend Derrick Pastor D Johnson, Imam Abu Maahir, and Bishop Aretha Morton regularly used their platforms to indict white supremacy. They were clergy and activists who had close relationships with the poor, and because of this they were able to engage with Wilmington’s establishment on their behalf.

Much of Wilmington’s present-day militancy emerges from a long grassroots legacy dating back to the late 1700s.³⁵ Richard Allen, Absalom Jones, Harriet Tubman, and especially the lesser-known figure Peter Spencer were key community leaders responsible for cultivating a thriving climate for Black empowerment in Wilmington, Delaware.

After purchasing their freedom, Delaware’s former slaves Richard Allen and Absalom Jones jump-started the first major Black social movement by establishing the African Methodist Episcopal Church (AME) in 1787. The AME tradition presently remains the most dominant Christian denomination in Black Wilmington. Wilmington’s grassroots, activist legacy was also reinforced by the pan-African messages of Marcus Garvey that spread into Wilmington in the 1920s, and the presence of Malcolm X and Malik Shabbazz in nearby Philadelphia in the late 1950s and 1960s is responsible for large numbers of Black Wilmingtonians converting to the Nation of Islam.³⁶

PSYCHOLOGICAL AND PHYSICAL SPACES OF RESILIENCE. Sites of resilience theory argues a street identity is composed of psychological and physical spaces or sites, and these sites are utilized by street-identified Black people to cope and become resilient (see figure I.2). Resilience is achieved through key ethnic- and culturally based relationships with people in particular psychological and physical spaces. Such coping experiences create the intimacy needed for the establishment of resilience.

I.2. Sites of Resilience Theoretical Framework, Cultural Prism Model

Psychological sites of resilience are the core values, belief systems, rules, or code of the streets used to guide the multiple negotiations and interactions (e.g., drug dealing) that occur within street-identified spaces. Physical sites of resilience are geographically bonded and diasporic places where the streets congregate to bolster personal and group levels of meaning. Franklin and Keyes refer to these spaces as gathering places.³⁷ Basketball courts, local bars, street corners, and the trap are not arbitrary spaces, but examples of gathering spaces that have historical, emotional, and psychological significance for street-identified Black men and women.

Psychological and physical sites are typically coordinated around particular street hustles, and the crack cocaine trade is one key example of how these sites speak to expressions of resilience within a particular hustle. For many in the streets, the hustling of crack cocaine has a cultural ideology or code attached to it that is separate but also overlaps with the codes of other street hustles (e.g., gambling, armed robbery). People who sell crack cocaine or other hard drugs typically come from more violent and structurally challenged neighborhoods, which in turn influences how they navigate and think about the streets.³⁸ Motivated by financial desperation, members of local drug networks formulate a set of adaptive ethics designed to guide daily operations in chaotic locales. Physical spaces used by people who sell crack cocaine usually mirror their own traumatic experiences: street corners or alleyways, abandoned or boarded-up locations, or run-down city parks. In turn, members of these networks often embrace these structurally hardened spaces as empowering locations.

There were at least four types of overlapping spaces used by the streets of Wilmington: (1) planning spaces—spaces where illegal activity is contrived; (2) active spaces—spaces where street activities occur; (3) intimate spaces—spaces to bond with family members and other loved ones; and (4) social spaces—spaces to connect with peers and other community members. Psychological sites of resilience constitute the ideology or the code attached to physical spaces, which gives these spaces special meaning. It is through the merging of psychological and physical dimensions that the use of a street identity is enacted as a site of resilience (see figure I.3).

I.3. Sites of Resilience Theoretical Framework, Full Model

THE STRUCTURAL VIOLENCE COMPLEX

The structural violence complex is a nefarious web of legislation, policies, laws, institutions, and structural systems designed to privilege whiter and wealthier communities at the expense of the poor and most vulnerable.³⁹ This complex is also an extremely racialized meta-system that targets particular racial-ethnic groups for various forms of exploitation. Undocumented Mexican Americans or Vietnamese street gangs in Southern California, low-income urban and rural Black Americans, and even the white coal-mining communities in West Virginia, have all been uniquely impacted by the structural violence complex.

What cannot be underestimated is the intentionality of the complex—a complex that is fully committed to an agenda of structural genocide, or systematic harm of vulnerable groups. Structural systems are not arbitrary forces that sometimes produce unintended consequences.⁴⁰ More precisely, the structural violence complex is the embodiment of empire, or the interests of white supremacy and the larger Western world.⁴¹ Modern capitalism was conceptualized out of a slave labor financial model where production and wealth relied on African slaves.⁴² Slaveholders borrowed from banks to buy slaves, roughly worth about $1,000 or $250,000 in current value, and then they borrowed against those new slaves to purchase more. Insurrection and life insurance policies on slaves were also honored, which secured their value in life and death. Alexander argues that U.S. capitalism was always fundamentally a racial caste system anchored in the most criminalized segments of Black America.⁴³ The impression of change via the Civil War and the civil rights movement disguised but never thwarted our economic system’s requirement for poverty, unemployment, and cheap labor. Delaware’s financial system shares in this shameful legacy of capitalism, slavocracy, and continued structural racism.⁴⁴

Structural violence theory argues that street violence is the result of vicious social and structural forces.⁴⁵ According to Galtung, predatory institutions and structural systems harm groups and communities by preventing them from meeting their basic needs and realizing their potentialities.⁴⁶ For Galtung, structural violence is synonymous with social injustice and is a cruel embodiment, or expression of imperialism.⁴⁷ He also theorized violence as an interconnected triad of structural, cultural, and direct forms of violence.⁴⁸ Cultural violence refers to how broader society normalizes violence, or how most people are generally indifferent to the suffering experienced by poor people.⁴⁹ Direct violence includes verbal and lethal forms of violence such as homicide. Cultural and structural forms of violence are argued by Galtung to be greatly responsible for direct violence.⁵⁰

Sites of resilience theory also draws on Black Marxism theory to contextualize the oppression of the Black working class;⁵¹ general strain theory’s analysis of criminal adaptation to structural inequality;⁵² critical race and racial capitalism theory’s emphasis on the ruling elite’s need for a racialized, economic out-group;⁵³ and critical criminology’s perspective of crime as resistance.⁵⁴ SOR theory contributes to this rich legacy the concept of a street identity that is anchored in a racialized, ethnic, and cultural worldview. Not enough attention has been placed on how racial-ethnic and cultural identities are embodied by street-identified communities to cope with and respond to an insidious structural violence complex.

STREET PAR IN THE STREETS OF WILMINGTON

Reflections from Yasser

Murder Town, USA is a street participatory action (Street PAR) project that organized fifteen residents formerly involved with the streets and criminal legal system to document the relationship between economic well-being and street violence in Wilmington’s Eastside and Southbridge neighborhoods. From 2010 to 2011, this multimethod study collected the following data from a community sample of street-identified Black men and women, ages 18 to 35: 520 surveys, 27 individual interviews, 4 dual interviews, and 3 group interviews (see tables I.1 and I.2).

Street PAR is an ethnographic method of collecting and analyzing data, but it is also an intervention for Street PAR Associates and local communities. Dr. Marlene Saunders, chair of the Department of Social Work at Delaware State University, and her graduate students provided individual and group levels of case management to Associates to troubleshoot any daily concerns that may have interrupted their participation (e.g., transportation, childcare). Associates were also paid biweekly and they earned $17 to $20 per hour on other research projects during and after our study’s conclusion. Six Associates enrolled in college during and after the project’s initial funding period. Three graduated with their bachelor of arts degrees (BAs), three completed their master of arts degrees (MAs), two pursued their doctorates, and only one Associate from this inaugural group has completed their doctorate. We also orchestrated dozens of community-based programs on gun violence, police misconduct, re-entry, and structural inequality.

People who are actively or formerly involved with the streets are best poised to critically examine the individual and structural experiences of street-identified populations.⁵⁵ Equipped with a unique cultural worldview, they can more credibly critique misinformed perspectives and they also can conduct analysis and propose solutions that would be better received by the streets. Long Incarcerated Fraternity Engaging Release Studies (LIFERS) is a scholar-activist group of men serving life sentences who have remained determined to offer analysis and recommendations for addressing the detrimental aspects of street culture.⁵⁶ Central to the LIFERS argument is their call for community-centered interventions to be interwoven through the perspectives of those incarcerated and active in the streets. According to the LIFERS, It is unrealistic to think that any serious efforts to address the problem of drug addiction could be successful while simultaneously excluding drug users, who consume illegal substances and drug dealers, who market them, from such efforts. It is logically inconsistent, therefore to expect a reduction in crime simply by galvanizing law enforcement, legislators, and a few select community groups, while excluding those deemed to be criminal elements from the process.⁵⁷ The Street PAR model takes this inclusion seriously, and we recognize that any violence reduction efforts must center the perspectives of those most affected or involved with street violence.

RECRUITING THE TEAM. Three universities and five nonprofit organizations provided technical, infrastructural, and financial support to the project, as well as employment and educational opportunities for Street PAR Associates. Nonprofit organizations also networked our project into city and state leadership, including the city council, the state assembly, and the governor’s office.

The Wilmington HOPE Commission (a nonprofit partner) issued a citywide call for residents with experiences in the streets and criminal legal system to apply for a yearlong, part-time position on the Wilmington Street PAR project. Residents were informed about the position via (1) job postings at nonprofit and other agencies, (2) street outreach efforts on the ground, (3) email and social media blasts, and (4) word of mouth. We were most interested in applicants with a desire to gain research experience, obtain secondary or postsecondary education, or work in a research-related field. Within a week of the release of the posting, we had received about 150 applications. Approximately seventy-five applicants were invited to a half-day group meeting at the Neighborhood House (a nonprofit partner) in Southbridge. Applicants participated in group activities designed to elicit attitudes on violence. From this group, thirty were invited for one-on-one interviews held at Christina Cultural Arts Center (a nonprofit partner) in the Eastside. Fifteen Associates were selected from this final group.

MEET THE WILMINGTON STREET PAR FAMILY. Street PAR Associates were a self-proclaimed family, not simply a research team. This was a romanticized view perhaps, but their solidarity was genuine, and it benefited greatly by distinguishing the project from traditional research—it was a people-centered study that truly embodied a political pursuit committed to grassroots change.

Twenty-one-year-old Dubard Dubie McGriff was one of our youngest members; he had recently completed a four-year sentence for robbery, drug possession, and firearms possession. One morning at methods training, Dubard mentioned that even when I made a $1,000 a day [in the streets], it didn’t match the feeling I get when we see each other at a meeting. For them, the most valuable part of Street PAR was the social-support network it offered. Street PAR created a safe space for its Associates to think through many of their concerns. Before, during, and after meetings, they feverishly updated each other on their parole status, barriers to childcare, housing challenges, job opportunities, or recent news in the streets. The energy among this team was always electric, as we challenged each other to become better researchers and citizens.

Based on my prior research experiences in Harlem (New York City) and north New Jersey,⁵⁸ I realized I needed to forge an authentic relationship, months in advance, with someone from the Eastside and Southbridge. I needed the guidance of someone who understood Wilmington’s street politics well enough to steer us around problematic personalities. Frankly, I needed someone I could trust who had high social capital—someone who could also be my eyes and ears in the communities. The only way Street PAR could happen in Murder Town, USA was through and with the permission of the streets.

Forty-year-old Darryl Wolfie or Wolf Chambers was my chief street liaison, guide, and mentor in the Eastside and Southbridge.⁵⁹ Recently released from prison, he was now an outreach consultant at the HOPE Commission. In 1996, Darryl was sentenced to thirty-five years for running a major drug organization. This was his only conviction, and this charge was a nonviolent felony. He had a bachelor of arts in sociology from the University of California–Davis at the time of his arrest. Darryl appealed his sentence and was later released after serving twelve years.

Over the next few months, Darryl and I got to know each other well. Sometimes we spoke for hours on the phone. One evening, I doubled down on the concept of structural violence. Intrigued, he pressed the point that inequality in Wilmington was racialized: In Wilmington, it’s always been like this, in terms of who got resources and power. Blacks have always been trapped out here. And white folks have always run the city, you here? Yeah, yeah, yeah … Dr. Payne, if we’re going to being honest about it all, what’s really going on in Wilmington is structural genocide.

Given that Darryl was very private, I was honored to meet his wife, Nikki, and his 18-year-old son, Muhammad, or Dom (Dominique). They were a stunning and proud Black Sunni Muslim family. Darryl’s wife always wore a hijab but rarely covered her face. Nikki’s bright smile and light spirit tempered Darryl’s sterner disposition, and their son Muhammad just adored Nikki. I was grateful to meet Darryl’s loved ones because he rarely invited anyone to his home or around his family.

One afternoon, Darryl took me to James and Jesse’s Barber Shop in the Eastside. Located in one of the poorest parts of town, this shop was still a social hub for many on the corner of Tenth and Bennett Streets. Although this is one of the city’s most violent neighborhoods, on this warm spring day children, teenagers, and adults were