Frederica S. Wilson

Mr. Speaker, I rise today, as Chair of the U.S. Commission on the Social Status of Black Men and Boys, on the occasion of the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation's Annual Legislative Conference, where we gathered to officially cut the ribbon for the Commission and to honor the memory of young Black boys who were murdered, and the parents who continue to carry their sons' legacies forward. It is in that spirit that I pay tribute to my colleague, Congresswoman Lucy McBath of Georgia's 6th district whose journey from a grieving mother to one of this Nation's most persistent voices against gun violence continues to shape the work we do in this Congress.

In 2012, Lucy's son, Jordan Davis, was shot and killed at a Jacksonville gas station after an argument over the volume of his music. He was seventeen years old. In the years that followed, Lucy refused to let his death become another statistic. She became the national spokeswoman for Everytown for Gun Safety and Moms Demand Action, carrying Jordan's story into communities and statehouses across the country, and in 2018 she carried it all the way to the floor of this House.

Since coming to Congress, Lucy has turned personal loss into legislative action. She has been instrumental in passing the Bipartisan Safer Communities Law, helped secure funding to study gun violence as the public health crisis it is, after decades in which that research had gone unfunded, and now serves as Vice Chair of the Gun Violence Prevention Task Force. She has stood on this floor to mark the anniversary of Sandy Hook and has authored legislation to fund community-based violence intervention, understanding that the fight against gun violence must be waged in neighborhoods as much as in this chamber.

Today, Lucy continues to bring that same commitment to this panel, sharing Jordan's story once more, this time alongside other families who understand exactly what she has carried for over a decade. Her willingness to keep telling that story, even after years in public life, reflects a truth she has lived every day since 2012: that the pain of losing a child to gun violence never truly ends, but it can be transformed into the work of protecting other families from that same loss.

Lucy's path from a mother on a mission to a leader on this floor stands as a testament to what grief can become when it is met with purpose. She has shown her colleagues, and the country, that advocacy borne of unimaginable loss can still change laws, change funding priorities, and change how this Nation talks about gun violence.

Mr. Speaker, I ask my colleagues to join me in honoring Congresswoman Lucy McBath for her tireless advocacy against gun violence, and for continuing to carry Jordan's memory into every fight she takes on for the families of this country.

Mr. Speaker, I rise today, as Chair of the U.S. Commission on the Social Status of Black Men and Boys, on the occasion of the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation's Annual Legislative Conference, where we gathered to officially cut the ribbon for the Commission and to honor the memory of young Black boys who were murdered, and the parents who continue to carry their sons' legacies forward. It is in that spirit that I pay tribute to Attorney Benjamin Crump, who spent his career confronting the disparities Black men and boys face in our criminal justice system, our schools, our hospitals, and our workplaces.

For nearly two decades, families who had nowhere else to turn have turned to him. As founder and principal owner of Ben Crump Law, he has stood beside the families of Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Stephon Clark, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd, and he has fought for the residents of Flint, Michigan, in their long battle for clean water. He carried the case for reparations on behalf of the family of Henrietta Lacks. As this panel's participants share the pain of losing a child and the fight that grief has demanded of them, Mr. Crump is not hearing their stories for the first time--he has lived alongside families carrying that exact weight for most of his career.

What sets his work apart is that it rarely ends with verdicts alone. Time and again, he has taken the outcome of a single case and pushed it further, turning accountability for one family into policy that protects others--legislation restricting excessive use of force and requiring implicit bias training within law enforcement agencies. He understands, in other words, how an individual family's tragedy becomes the basis for the very kind of systemic reform this Commission was created to recommend.

That commitment to building something lasting extends beyond any single case. Mr. Crump founded and directs the Benjamin Crump Social Justice Institute, and in 2023, St Thomas University's College of Law in Miami was renamed the Benjamin L. Crump College of Law in his honor--the first law school in the country named for a practicing Black attorney. It is that same investment in the next generation, and in turning individual pain into lasting institutions, that he brings to this panel today: a chance to ensure the stories shared by our families are not simply heard, but translated into the policy recommendations this Commission is charged with delivering.

Mr. Speaker, I ask my colleagues to join me in recognizing Attorney Benjamin Crump for his extraordinary contributions to civil rights and social justice, and for lending his voice and his experience to this vital conversation on behalf of Black men and boys across America.

Mr. Speaker, I rise today, as the Chair of the U.S. Commission on the Social Status of Black Men and Boys on the occasion of the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation's Annual Legislative Conference, where we gathered to officially cut the ribbon for the U.S. Commission on the Social Status of Black Men and Boys and to honor the memory of young Black boys who were murdered, and the parents who continue to carry their sons' legacies forward. It is in that spirit that I pay tribute to Santonio and Monica Carter, the parents of King Carter, a six-year-old boy from Miami whose life was taken by a stray bullet as he walked to a nearby store. In the years since, Mr. and Mrs. Carter refused to let his death be reduced to a headline.

King was walking to buy candy near his home in Liberty City when he was struck and killed in the crossfire of a dispute that had nothing to do with him. In the aftermath, his parents did what no parent should ever have to do: they buried their son, and then they turned their grief into a demand that the community around them do better by its children.

Mr. and Mrs. Carter have since become fixtures in their community, not as bystanders to its violence but as people actively working to interrupt it. They founded ``Save Our Kings and Queens'' in their son's honor, offering young people in their neighborhood an alternative to the streets and a reminder that someone is watching out for them. They have stood at rallies, spoken to reporters, and shown up year after year at prayer vigils and balloon releases marking the day their son was taken, insisting each time that King's name not be allowed to fade.

The street where King was killed now bears his name, a small but permanent reminder to everyone who passes that a child's life was lost there and that his family refused to let the moment pass quietly. Santonio has said plainly that he cannot get much out of life right now except helping somebody else, and that spirit has carried him and Monica through a grief no family should have to bear.

The Carters carry with them not only the memory of their son but years of hard-won experience turning private loss into public purpose. Their presence is a reminder that the fight against gun violence is not an abstraction debated in hearing rooms alone--it is carried, every day, by parents like them who have chosen to keep showing up.

Mr. Speaker, I ask my colleagues to join me in honoring Santonio and Monica Carter for their courage, their persistence, and their unwavering commitment to ensuring that their son, King Carter's life continues to mean something for the children who come after him.