Madam Speaker, it's my sad responsibility to call your attention to the anguish that Ms. Rita Sallie is experiencing. Hers is a pain felt by so many mothers and families across this great nation. Losing a child is a tragedy that no parent…
Madam Speaker, it's my sad responsibility to call your attention to the anguish that Ms. Rita Sallie is experiencing. Hers is a pain felt by so many mothers and families across this great nation. Losing a child is a tragedy that no parent should have to endure but, once again, an innocent child whose life was so full of promise abruptly lost her life due to gun violence in my Chicago community.
Rather than add more of my own words, I'm taking this opportunity to enter into the record the entire statement by Ms. Rita Sallie. Somehow, she found the courage to speak through her pain and wrote a heartfelt statement to the Chicago Sun-Times--a statement aimed, directly, at the convicted murderers of her daughter, 15-year-old Schanna. It is important that history remembers her petition as it sadly resonates for millions of parents throughout the United States.
Here's her statement, in its entirety:
They stole the life of a beautiful, kind, free-spirited
girl and made her a statistic. Why? To get revenge for an
argument? A fight? The leader should have gotten over it and
walked away. But he was mad, you see, so the only reasonable
thing for a coward to do was to get an idiot to shoot up a
park where children play, only to hurt my child who was feet
away.
She was born on Dec. 16, 1993, and was a cute, bald bundle
of quiet joy. She grew to be a sincere, respectful, loving,
selfless spirit filled with the joy of life. Her smile is
infectious and no one can deny her energy and pure heart. She
has a confident yet modest bearing and a smile like a balm to
the soul. I would not realize until after I saw her smile how
much I yearned for it.
The child I anticipated seeing everyday was gunned down in
the middle of a park, behind Funston Elementary School, by
two nothings. She was supposed to start 8th grade in the fall
of 2007, but she never made it. She will never have the
chance to show herself to the world. I will never have the
chance to watch her make her way.
Schanna has always been so full of life. Her energy and
vitality would leave me rolling my eyes in exasperation
because sometimes I just wanted her to sit still and take a
breath. They took the energy that left me breathless and left
her lying, unmoving in the park behind Funston Elementary
School where people could see her at her most vulnerable.
They denied her the right to live, breathe, laugh, love and
dream.
Schanna has such a generous spirit. She thought nothing of
sharing her time or her possessions with you. She hated to
see others unhappy or angry. There was nothing that she had
that she wasn't willing to share. This child would take her
birthday money and buy Christmas presents for everyone else.
She was supposed to donate her organs so that others could
continue living, even though she would not. They denied her
that right, as well, because her heart stopped before her
organs could be harvested, leaving them unusable and the
recipients to wait and maybe even succumb themselves.
I have always been amazed by her. Over the years I would
ask myself what did a barely passable person like me do to
earn the privilege of having Schanna as my child? Somehow I
was blessed to have a little girl with a brilliant mind, a
big heart and a generous spirit. Although I struggle with
being a better person, I do try to teach my children to know
right from wrong, to make principled decisions and to have
good moral character. Schanna took what I taught her and
magnified it. She not only listened to what I advised, she
put it into practice so much that she became the teacher, and
I, the student. She is the person that I have struggled all
my life to become.
People have always been drawn to her. Even as a toddler,
people would stop me on the street to admire her and buy her
small gifts, a piece of candy, or lollipop. That never
changed. Up until she was taken from me, I would watch her
walk to school by herself and before she made it, she would
be surrounded by so many friends that I would no longer be
able to tell her apart from the sea of blue and white
uniforms.
All I have left are memories. The memories of our life
before they intruded. The memories that I cannot call up
because they are pushed aside for what they did to her on
June 25, 2007. I saw my baby lying in the park, eyes open
staring, with bits of her favorite fruit scattered around
her. I struggle to recall the constant twinkle in her eye,
the bright smile and the distinctive cackle of her laugh. I
am embarrassed to admit that I try to avoid thinking of her
at all because I don't want to recall that day and all the
days that came after. I have to put her away, for now. Maybe,
in the future, but not now.
She had a life plan at 12 years old and they denied her all
of her dreams and aspirations. She'll never experience going
to high school, or college, or even the 8th grade. She will
never be consumed by her first love and I will never have the
chance to help her through her first broken heart. There will
be no stories of her travels, the people she would meet and
the things she would see and do. She never even got the
chance to ride public transportation by herself.
Over the years, people have told me that I was a strong
woman. On June 25, 2007, I was exposed as a fraud. I'm not
the strong woman I've always considered myself to be. My
armor is only as strong as its weakest point. My weakness is
my family, my children. They not only put a chink in my
armor, but shattered it and left it lying at my feet, leaving
me fearful and weak. I have gone from a strong, independent
person to someone who would like nothing more than to crawl
into a dark hole and lick the wounds that will never heal. My
sleep is restless. I am overly emotional and struggle to make
the simplest decisions and have felt no true happiness since
that time.
Since losing her, I have tried to find some sense of
normalcy to my life. But I can't, because I know that I'm
supposed to kiss three children before I go to work, not two.
I know that I'm supposed to cook for four people, not three.
I know I am supposed to hear three voices when I come home
from a long day. I know I'm supposed to talk to three
children about what is going on in their lives. I know that
I'm supposed to hug three children. It's impossible to return
to normal when you know these things in your heart and mind
and that knowing is not enough. Her absence is the 800 pound
gorilla in the room that everyone notices but tries to
ignore, hoping that someone else will mention it first. The
emptiness is physical and must be kept at bay.
They left me powerless. I would do everything to help my
children through crises real and imagined, and they knew it.
They took away my power when they hurt my little girl. I had
to leave her in the care of the paramedics, police, hospital,
morgue and funeral home, only to lay her to rest in a
cemetery surrounded by strangers.
She could forgive people for anything. Make her sad or
angry and a few minutes later all would be forgiven, whether
you apologized or not. Knowing her, she's probably forgiven
them. For years I wished I were more like her, but I'm not
and despite my best efforts, I never will be. Schanna is a
better person that I am in every way. She may have forgiven
them, but I hate them. I have a fiery hatred for both of them
that I know will one day consume me. The anger eats away at
my mind and heart, knowing what they did to her, I seethe at
the very thought of them as part of our history, that they
are an asterisk on my family tree. We don't want them there,
but they are, forever.
When the situation occurred, my imagination made them seem
big, menacing, nearly otherworldly. Upon actually seeing
them, I realize they are two nothings. One, a pint-sized,
arrogant wannabe outsider and the
other, a stupid and spineless follower. Two insignificant,
pathetic nobodies who barged into my life and took away my
child. They had no right to decide if anyone lives or dies,
yet they took the liberty of walking away with the life of my
child.
The leader made the fateful decision to have his lackey
discharge a weapon in broad daylight into a park behind a
school where scores of children congregated because he was
mad. Even after hurting my child, he neither ran like the
coward he is nor admitted his involvement like the man he
should have been; rather he stood on the street and drank
alcoholic beverages as though hurting a child made him
thirsty. The circumstances surrounding the loss of my little
girl makes me light hearted with nervous rage.
The leader came to my country, my state, my city, my
neighborhood, took my child's life and stole her future.
Because he was mad, he committed an act from which none of us
can ever recover. Not my family, not the shooter's family or
even his family. His arrogance and leadership over those in
the gang made for a potent mix and we, my family and the
community, paid the price for it. He came here thinking that
he could do whatever he wanted to whomever he wanted,
whenever he wanted and would suffer no consequences. This
makes him extremely dangerous to the general public.
After the guilty verdict for the shooter, I happened to run
into Susanna Rosa, who proceeded to tell me that that shooter
was a good kid and that the gang threatened him. They told
him to do it or else they would kill him. She let me know
that he'd graduated from high school and everything. Well,
the shooter is stupid and lacks moral character. He let a
person who is of no importance tell him to commit an act with
wide-ranging consequences. Why? To defend him from an
argument that he could have and should have walked away from.
The only person wielding a gun out there was the shooter. He
hid near a car like a 2-year-old and came out gun blazing
like an Old West villain to defend someone else. Nothing Ms.
Rosa told me changes my opinion at all. I will accept no
excuses. My hatred has not dimmed but flares white-hot at the
idea of the destruction he's caused in our lives, throwing
away his own in the process for a nothing, a nobody.
I had the opportunity to observe the shooter and watched
him smile. He neither smirked nor grinned, but smiled a big
smile when he sat at the defense table towards the end of the
trial. My stomach clinched and my skin became flushed. I was
mad, just like his leader, the arrogant nobody who he came to
rescue, but I did nothing, nor did I try to enlist anyone to
do anything. The leader and his defender should have done the
same thing and none of us would be here today and my little
girl would be finishing her first year of high school.
During the trial, the shooter had a number of family
members and friends at court to support him. He didn't
consider those same people who sat behind him and gave him
them their strength. He didn't think about those people then.
No. He thought only about rescuing his leader from an
argument by using armed violence. High school diploma or not,
if he's stupid and dangerous enough to let someone convince
him to hurt others, then he needs to be taken off the street
for the rest of his life.
They took away her life and her future, her sister Joyce's
best friend, her brother Antwun's protector and my dearly
loved child and teacher.
What they did is nothing less than an act of domestic
terrorism. They took Schanna Danielle Gayden, just 13 years
old, and left in their wake a destroyed family, distraught
friends and a traumatized community. Despite their actions,
Schanna actually brought the community together. People
recognized how special she is and they came together for her
and for us. They stood vigil with us during the darkest hours
of our lives and they stand with us still. Schanna touched
more people in her 13 years than I have during my entire life
and continues to do so. She has an intangible gift for which
people would recognize and respond.
A tree was planted and a stone set up in her memory in the
park where she suffered such a terrible hurt. The park has
also been dedicated to her memory. This is the same park
where so many children came to play or just watch the world
go by. In fact, had they been just a little earlier, I could
have been their victim, and my Schanna would still be here to
continue the path she set out for herself. I've done all I'm
going to do in this life, whereas she hadn't even begun. But
it says something about her as a person that a park would be
dedicated to her and a memorial tree and stone placed in her
memory. On June 27, 2009, there will also be a tree planted
at the cemetery where she has been laid to rest. It will be
dedicated to her and all of the children lost to violence.
These actions say that she is not disposable, the damage done
is not collateral. She is important, not just to her family,
but to her friends and community.
It is fortunate for them that I was not responsible for
charging them with a crime. If I were, they would have been
charged with aggravated theft for stealing my baby's life, a
gift which is truly priceless and cannot be replaced; and
attempted murder, for all the people who were there who could
have also been victims. Were it up to me, life without parole
is nothing less than they would receive. With that sentence,
Your Honor, I am being generous.
However, I do request that because of their deplorable and
thoughtless actions, sickening behavior and blatant disregard
for all life, and the convictions that stemmed from these, I
am respectfully requesting that you, the Honorable Judge
Nicholas T. Ford, sentence both defendants to the maximum
punishment allowed by law.
Thank you for your consideration.