The Secrets of Silence: The Everyday Policing of Black Women and Their Stories about Violence

 

Author: Shannon Malone Gonzalez
Publisher: Princeton University Press, 2025. 302 pages.
Reviewer: Brianne M. Posey | Spring 2025

Police violence and police brutality are a public health issue. Studies show that Black individuals are more likely to be killed by police than white individuals and are more likely to experience injury, even from less-than-lethal force. Recent advocacy has highlighted these disproportionate experiences, calling to memorialize the names and experiences of slain Black boys and men. While Black girls and women are also at risk for experiencing police perpetrated violence, their narratives have been notably absent from research and advocacy. Dr. Malone Gonzalez’s work sheds light on this invisibility, focusing on the variety of ways that Black women encounter police violence in their daily lives. Furthermore, this book draws from Dr. Malone Gonzalez’s original research, which involves interviews with Black women, as well as an ethnographic analysis of their stories.

The chapter “I wish I was taught to be okay in me” explains how Black individuals are taught at a very young age that the police may someday harm them. This results in a list of self-corrections that they must apply to prevent being harmed (e.g., do not make any sudden movements, do not raise your voice, be polite when responding to questions). However, this behavior is often presented as gender neutral, and Black girls receive less instruction about their unique risks for harm, until it occurs (Black families surviving state and epistemic violence). Dr. Malone Gonzalez notes that Black women’s gendered risk involves being perceived as being too sexually available and/or too masculine (norms and sanctions).

The chapter “What happens in our house/you don’t call the police on your family” draws on police responses to calls of distress. During these encounters, Black women often witnessed officers mistreating Black male members of their families. In instances of family and/or domestic violence specifically, some Black women were accused of being the aggressor by responding officers. This chapter further highlights the experiences of queer Black women, who frequently encountered hostility and inaction from officers. Dr. Malone Gonzalez’s carceral feminist analysis highlights, on one hand, that Black women often fear calling the police on Black male family members and partners because they are concerned about the potential for police misconduct, excessive force, or even fatal outcomes (the politics of protection) against one or both of them. On the other hand, due to stereotypes about Black women, they are often met with non-responses or threatened with arrest even when they are the victims of violence (norms and sanctions).

The chapter “He’s just going to be right back out there” explores how Black women encounter police violence that falls outside of traditional forms (e.g., chokeholds, tasers, and lethal force with a firearm). The study participants reveal stories of being cat-called and objectified in childhood and adolescence, being subjected to intimidating looks and sexual gestures, as well as having their calls for help minimized. This chapter also reveals stories of Black women being groomed and stalked by police officers. Dr. Malone Gonzalez places these experiences in the context of the hyper- sexualization of Black girls and women’s bodies. Dating back to slavery, institutions have utilized gender-based and sexual violence to uphold heteropatriarchal norms. Policing as an institution of masculinity and Black exploitation is an extension of this. This contributes to the sexual abuse and criminalization of Black women (defining and disclosing police gender-based and sexual violence). Their analysis of Black feminism and intersectionality further examines how the hyper-sexualization of Black girls and women excludes them from white patriarchal protection. Indeed, Black women are often invisible as victims of sexual assault and rape (the politics of protection and protectionism). Lastly, this analysis acknowledges how these experiences result in few options for police support and many options for police blame. This was indicative of the study participants’ discussion of respectability politics and heteronormative ideals, which can act as self-protection, as well as present barriers while reporting police victimization (norms and sanctions).

The chapter “I was kinda scared to report it” looks at the stories of Black women who disrupt violence by reporting it. These experiences are explored through multiple lenses. One lens includes experiencing pressure from Black communities to not involve the police in personal disputes. Being labeled as a “snitch”, a traitor, or an agitator was specifically noted. Another lens is through those experiencing violence from a family member who is a member of law enforcement. Participants acknowledged fear of retaliation from those family members and their colleagues, as well as the concept of ‘the blue code of silence’/’the blue wall of silence’, where officers protect each other and ignore misconduct within departments. The final lens involves Black women who have lost loved ones to police brutality. This also highlighted fear of retaliation, as well as the difficulties of speaking out about high-profile police violence while experiencing grief.  Dr. Malone Gonzalez’s analysis acknowledges the various informal codes that Black communities have developed to protect themselves from predatory policing models and police violence. This discussion of informal codes, reminiscent of Elijah Anderson’s Code of the Streets (1999), draws on cultural expectations of refraining from talking to or contacting the police, as well as the adoption of noncooperation strategies in police investigations. Black women are an integral part of these informal codes, as they are tasked with protecting the image of the Black community, and thus, perceived cultural betrayal is often met with ostracization and exclusion (rippling codes of silence and cultural betrayal). In addition, police retaliation is discussed as it functions to isolate Black women in their private social worlds. Dr. Malone Gonzalez notes that because of these systems, Black women are neither supported by their communities nor by law enforcement, following reporting violence (the politics of protection and protectionism). These experiences help to maintain widespread silence around violence, as well as heteropatriarchal violence (norms and sanctions).

The chapter, ‘When we gather”, tackles the discourse surrounding police violence and Black women. It is acknowledged that these discussions can become strained as Black men’s experiences are seen as more pertinent and prevalent. Many Black women strive for spaces in which they can discuss how to navigate and exist within these discussions, as well as develop their own. Mainstream channels of discussion, such as social media advocacy, might invite hostility or predatory surveillance. Indeed, some Black women have found solace in forms of self-expression such as poetry, creative writing, and music. Other Black women explained the importance of building healthy communities. Families and extended families are a critical component of Black communities’ preservation and protection, a component that was disrupted through slavery. However, dysfunction and racialized misogyny in the Black community increase Black women’s risk of sexual assault and intimate partner violence. The study participants’ narratives also explained the importance of honest communication about past violence, as well as what to do when violence has or is about to occur (e.g., boundary setting). Many of these conversations are passed down from maternal figures in Black communities (grandmothers, mothers, aunts, etc.). These conversations can serve to humanize Black women, as perspectives on engagement with the police (i.e., calling the police for help) may differ based on age, socioeconomic status, sexual orientation, gender identity, and previous interactions with the police/criminal justice system. Dr. Malone Gonzalez frames these narratives as daily forms of political mobilization and activism. It is duly noted that this analysis also highlights the importance of respecting Black transwomen’s identity, and not enforcing the ‘labor of teaching’ (an undue burden placed on marginalized individuals, which tasks them with educating more privileged individuals on discrimination and systemic oppression). Indeed, conversations are a critical part of enhancing discourse, but they should not come at the expense of the Black communities’ most vulnerable groups (i.e., Black queer women and Black transwomen). This acknowledgment allows for more inclusive discussions about police violence against Black women and allows for the dismantlement of silence norms and collective ignorance situated within authoritarian institutions (abolition feminism and positive disruptions of everyday policing). This chapter closes with the importance of developing transformative spaces for Black women to share their experiences of everyday police violence. Within many spaces, Black women are expected to navigate, adhere to, and empathize with white and heteropatriarchal norms of conduct. Thus, spaces that break away from these expectations allow for listening, healing, and eventually action for creating everyday alternatives for safety (linking Black feminist thought to the conditions of safety).

The book ends with the importance of understanding Black women and police violence through intersections of racial, gender, and economic oppression. This conclusion additionally emphasizes the importance of including the experiences of LGBTQ+ Black people and Black women with disabilities in this knowledge; their experiences are also born out of heteropatriarchy, white supremacy, and ableism. These sentiments present a call to action to be intentional about including Black women in media accounts, state-level and national data, personal convictions, as well as research surveys and interviews to bolster knowledge on this topic.

Through a rigorous methodological approach, Dr. Malone Gonzalez’s work offers fresh insights into what everyday violence can look like, how it transpires, and how it impacts Black women’s perceptions of themselves, their communities, and policing as an institution. This work is further well-positioned through the abolitionist feminism framework, which calls for abolishing policing and prison models, as well as abolishing policing logistics in private and intimate spaces. This work also extends beyond previous works that report Black women’s risk and then list a narrow index of potential solutions. In contrast, Dr. Malone Gonzalez’s work elevates the solutions proposed by the study participants. For example, some of the Black women acknowledged that police are integral to communities and thus called for changes to policing methods. While others were wary of the idea of police reform or retraining and wished for a new system to be in place. These sentiments were situated in “unlistening” (described as abandoning unwillingness or inability to loosen one’s grip on their worldview and oppressive systems), to better understand Black women, their pain, and their desires for stability.

Despite these strengths, the books’ identifiable limitation is the broad use of the term ‘violence’. Perceptions of what constitutes violence are influenced by cultural norms and social values, which evolve over time. Definitions can be matters of judgment, which is particularly applicable given the ethnographic nature of this research. Further, broad uses of ‘violence’ can result in over-estimation and/or the capturing of experiences that do not readily fit within theoretical violence typology models and perpetration categories. Thus, while this work is exhaustive and enlightening, this expansion of ‘violence’ requires further consideration to avoid obscuring and consolidating the distinct dynamics of different types of harm.

Henceforth, for academics, this book offers an extensive analysis of legal and illegal policing discrimination against Black women, which can enhance policing scholarship. The book is also student-friendly and provides an easy-to-read and diverse overview of the historical and contemporary harm caused by police and policing systems to audiences who may not be familiar with Black feminist and/or abolitionist perspectives. Further, this book offers a critical note for policymakers: without informed knowledge, future policy will fail to match the realities of Black women.

In sum, this book is a harrowing but necessary contribution to modern-day critical race and policing discussions. It vividly illustrates persistence, trauma, and resiliency. Above all, it acknowledges that Black women’s lives and trauma cannot be fully understood—or effectively addressed—without close, careful, and inclusive research and communication that allows them to be the authors of their own stories.

 

Brianne M. Posey is an Associate Professor of Criminology and Justice Studies at California State University, Northridge.

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