Construction underway for states' pavilions on the National Mall in Washington, DC. (Freedom 250 via CNN Newsource)
Construction underway for states’ pavilions on the National Mall in Washington, DC. (Freedom 250 via CNN Newsource)
By Piper Hudspeth Blackburn, CNN
(CNN) — President Donald Trump has billed the “Great American State Fair” as a patriotic World’s Fair featuring pavilions created by every US state and territory – but several US states will not participate.
Officials from Oregon, Washington, Massachusetts, Illinois, North Carolina and Connecticut told CNN they declined an invitation from the Trump administration to showcase their states at the giant fairgrounds being built on the National Mall. Pennsylvania has yet to decide whether it will participate.
While officials said their states’ decisions were largely due to costs, a spokesperson for Oregon Gov. Tina Kotek, a Democrat, pointed to concerns about the partisan nature of the event, set to open June 25 and last about two weeks.
“The State of Oregon will not be participating in the Great American State Fair due to both the cost of participating in the Fair and growing concerns that the event in Washington D.C. is shaping up to be a more partisan affair than originally presented,” spokesperson Luke Harkin said.
But all 50 states and territories will be represented even if some states don’t provide input, and details are still being “actively finalized,” a spokesperson for Freedom 250 told CNN.
“What we can say is that every state’s story will be told in a way that’s authentic to its people, history, and culture,” the spokesperson said, adding, “Whether represented by a governor’s office, a tourism board, or a beloved state company or organization, every community will be celebrated.”
Freedom 250 is the Trump-aligned nonprofit putting together the fair and a plethora of other 250th events backed by the president.
Trump has loomed large over celebrations of America’s semiquincentennial and has used the power of his office to direct programs, funding and themes that fit with his vision of the country.
Several of them have run into controversy. Earlier this month, the fair was forced to jettison an opening concert following the withdrawal of artists who were due to perform.
The administration has also been hit with criticism over its Ultimate Fighting Championship event at the White House this week, held in honor of the 250th, by Democrats who say the government should be more focused on lowering costs.
Meanwhile, Freedom 250 is touting the level of state participation in the fair and insisted that it will be a celebration for all Americans. The group shared with CNN rendering of pavilions that 21 states have already proposed. They show designs including a mini-golf course for South Carolina, a replica of the Alamo for Texas and a fossil digging station for Montana, among others.
CNN has reached out to dozens of states to confirm their participation.
Plans for the fair
On the campaign trail in 2023, Trump first floated plans for a state fair. Years later, his vision will be realized.
From June 25 through July 10, large white tents decorated with neo-classical columns will house dozens of state pavilions. Other plans include a scaled-down replica of Trump’s proposed 250-foot ‘triumphal arch’ and an enormous 110-foot Ferris wheel. Freedom 250 has also said there will be movie screenings, musical performances and military flyovers.
The renderings submitted to Freedom 250 reflect states’ histories and heritage.
Arizona’s pavilion will include an immersive reproduction of the wave-like sandstone walls found at the state’s famous Antelope Canyon. In Michigan, visitors will get a chance to see a mechanical milking cow, while in Minnesota, they’ll win prizes by selecting from a pond full of miniature versions of the North Star State’s official bird, the Common Loon.
At Wyoming’s pavilion, visitors will be able to try their hand at competing in rodeo, the state’s sport, through augmented reality headsets. Courtny Hinds, general manager of the Wyoming State Fair and Wyoming’s State Pavilion Lead, described the fair as a once-in-a-lifetime event that she was excited to attend.
“Every single state kind of has their own pieces of their identity, so whoever our neighbors will be, we’re excited to make friends with them and the rest of states and territories too,” she said.
Meanwhile, the Peoria Riverfront Museum, located roughly 150 miles southwest of Chicago, has volunteered to represent Illinois at the Great American State Fair. “State funds were not used to pay for the Museum’s travel, registration, or exhibit design and giveaways,” Jayette Bolinski, communications director at the state’s Department of Natural Resources, told CNN in statement.
Trump and 250
A person familiar with planning said that Freedom 250 paid for the build out of each booth and pavilion, but participating states were tasked with funding the decorations for their tents.
Cathryn Vaulman, director of communications for Connecticut Gov. Ned Lamont, told CNN the state’s choice to decline participation in fair “came down to resources.”
“The federal government has asked states to foot the bill to participate, including staffing a multiweek exhibition,” she explained in a statement.
A spokesperson for the group responsible for North Carolina’s 250 planning said the state was invited “but due to the expenditures required to participate, the state is unable to attend.”
“Our limited resources are focused on America 250 events across North Carolina,” she said.
Oregon officials cited cost as “a big concern” when discussing the fair with Freedom 250. “We have determined Oregon cannot participate in the fair,” a state official told the organization in an email obtained by CNN. The Oregon official said that a $70,000 shipping cost was “substantially” higher than what the state had anticipated.
The states that have declined to participate are all led by Democratic governors.
Though the states’ displays are nonpartisan, Trump’s cultural agenda will feature heavily over the fair, which is being kicked off with a rally by the president himself.
The decision to hold what he described as “A Rally to end all Rallies!” came last week after musicians pulled out of a performance that was originally planned.
“We don’t want singers with no talent, but big fees to put you to sleep, we’ve told them all to stay home,” Trump wrote on Truth Social. “All we want is you, me, a few speakers, and the Greatest Music ever played, the same Music you have listened to for years!”
In a statement to CNN, Freedom 250 defended Trump’s prominent place in the 250th celebrations and said that presidents have long played a role at commemorations of the nation’s founding — from Ulysses S. Grant at the Centennial in 1876 to Gerald Ford at the Bicentennial in 1976.
“We proudly welcome President Trump, who has shown genuine enthusiasm for celebrating America and its patriotic traditions, just as we would have welcomed any sitting president,” said Freedom 250 spokesperson Rachel Reisner.
But critics have argued that the celebrations depart from past national celebrations that did not have such overt political overtones. Watchdog groups have raised alarm about the lack of transparency around Freedom 250.
As a nonprofit subsidiary of the National Park Foundation, Freedom 250 does not have to disclose its donors.
Two Virginia residents have filed a lawsuit seeking to stop the UFC fight at the White House.
Justice Department lawyers told a federal judge Tuesday that the suit was brought too late to justify judicial intervention and that a ruling blocking the event, which is set to take place this coming weekend, would upend months of careful planning and unfairly burden a host of parties including the president, thousands of spectators and more than a dozen athletes. The administration is still awaiting a ruling in the suit.
Tim Whitehouse, the executive director of Public Employees for Environmental Responsibility (PEER) told CNN that Trump’s “partisan events” are “not what the American people deserve on their 250th birthday.”
PEER has sued the Trump administration over its refusal to release key documents related to Freedom 250 that the group is seeking under the Freedom of Information Act. On Tuesday, a federal judge ordered the administration to respond to the group’s complaint on or before June 26.
“It’s not to say that a Great American Fair or UFC fight or a car race as part of our 250th celebrations isn’t appropriate,” Whitehouse said. “It’s the way they’re being handled and managed in a sort of a corrupt, non-transparent way.”
CNN’s Kaanita Iyer contributed to this report.
This story has been updated with additional information.
Jeffery Lee booking photo provided by the Alabama Department of Corrections. (Alabama Department of Corrections via CNN Newsource)
Jeffery Lee booking photo provided by the Alabama Department of Corrections. (Alabama Department of Corrections via CNN Newsource)
By John Fritze, CNN
(CNN) — The Supreme Court on Thursday blocked Alabama from executing a man using nitrogen hypoxia, a relatively new method of carrying out the death penalty that experts say causes “air hunger” and that a federal court ruled violates the Eighth Amendment’s ban on cruel and unusual punishment.
As is often the case in emergency death penalty appeals, the majority did not explain its reasoning. Three conservative justices – Clarence Thomas, Samuel Alito and Neil Gorsuch – said they would have granted Alabama’s request and allowed the execution to take place. They also did not explain their reasoning.
Jeffery Lee was convicted of capital murder for killing two people, Jimmy Ellis and Elaine Thompson, while robbing a pawnshop in 1998 in Orrville, Alabama. A jury recommended life imprisonment, but the trial court overruled that decision and sentenced Lee to death.
The question for the Supreme Court was whether to throw out a decision from a federal district court this week that barred the state from executing Lee with nitrogen gas. That relatively new method is partly a response to pharmaceutical companies declining to allow their drugs to be used in lethal injections. Alabama has executed seven people using nitrogen-hypoxia.
But the method has drawn sharp criticism, and a federal appeals court in Atlanta concluded that the protocol presented “a substantial risk of serious harm — severe pain over and above death itself.” After that, a lower federal court concluded that the state could feasibly execute Lee with a firing squad, instead, and that method would significantly reduce the risk of harm.
The court’s ruling does not foreclose the possibility that Alabama could later attempt to execute Lee by firing squad, a method he had requested.
Alabama Republican Gov. Kay Ivey said in a statement following the ruling that while she was disappointed with the decision, “I remain committed to ensuring that justice is ultimately served for his victims.”
The Supreme Court has previously considered emergency appeals involving nitrogen hypoxia and allowed those executions to go forward. In October, the court denied a request from Anthony Boyd to halt his execution in Alabama without explanation. The court’s three liberals issued a striking dissent.
Justice Sonia Sotomayor encouraged Americans to start a stopwatch and reflect as the seconds turn into minutes.
“Now imagine for that entire time, you are suffocating,” Sotomayor wrote in her dissent, which was joined by Justices Elena Kagan and Ketanji Brown Jackson. “You want to breathe; you have to breathe. But you are strapped to a gurney with a mask on your face pumping your lungs with nitrogen gas.”
“Your mind knows that the gas will kill you,” she continued. “But your body keeps telling you to breathe.”
The Supreme Court often sides with the state in last-minute death penalty cases on the emergency docket. But the legal posture of Lee’s case was different because, unlike in most emergency matters, a federal district court had entered a ruling on the merits. Steve Vladeck, a professor at Georgetown University Law Center and a CNN Supreme Court analyst, said the court’s decision would have amounted to an expansion of its emergency docket.
Alabama’s appeal, Vladeck wrote in a brief to the Supreme Court, should have been dealt with on its regular, merits docket on which the justices receive more extensive briefing and hear oral argument if the case is granted.
“This court has numerous options at its disposal if it wishes to take up Alabama’s appeal on the merits,” Vladeck wrote. But dealing with the case on the emergency docket after a federal court ruled on the merits “isn’t — and shouldn’t be — one of them.”
The judge in Lee’s case sentenced him to death despite a jury’s recommendation of a life sentence. That judicial override procedure was repealed by Alabama in 2017, but the change in policy did not apply retroactively.
This story has been updated with additional details.
After the June 2016 shooting, a massive makeshift memorial of flower bouquets, photos and other remembrances grew outside Pulse nightclub. (John Raoux/AP via CNN Newsource)
After the June 2016 shooting, a massive makeshift memorial of flower bouquets, photos and other remembrances grew outside Pulse nightclub. (John Raoux/AP via CNN Newsource)
By Elizabeth Wolfe, CNN
Editor’s note: EDITOR’S NOTE: This story contains descriptions of gun violence that some readers may find disturbing.
(CNN) — Bass pumped through Pulse nightclub in the early hours of June 12, 2016, as more than 300 people packed one of Orlando’s most popular gay bars for a night of Latin music and hastily-mixed cocktails during the excitement of Pride month.
Just before 2 a.m., the din of the club was violently interrupted by the sound of gunfire. Keinon Carter and his friend Antonio Brown emerged from the restroom to investigate the sound, only to be suddenly struck by a line of bullets.
Over several hours, as Carter faded in and out of consciousness on the floor, a 29-year-old gunman killed 49 people and injured more than 50 others before law enforcement breached the club wall with an armored vehicle and killed him. Carter would later learn Brown had not survived.
At the time, the attack was the deadliest mass shooting in US history and the most violent terrorist attack on US soil since 9/11. The attack deeply wounded Orlando’s LGBTQ+ community, as the majority of those killed were young gay and Hispanic men, and the case was investigated by the FBI as both terrorism and a hate crime.
No survivor could have predicted how their lives would change in the months and years after such a traumatic event.
Some, like Carter, were forced by debilitating injuries to confront the reality of the attack every day. Others, like Tiara Parker, suppressed their grief and trauma until the weight of it all finally brought them tumbling to their knees. A handful, including Brandon Wolf, have coped by trying to build a world where such violence would not happen again.
Ten years after the shooting, survivors who spoke to CNN detailed their complicated – and still unfolding – recoveries, as well as their struggles with the guilt of living through the attack that took the lives of lovers, relatives and close friends.
Brandon Wolf, an advocate fueled by a whispered promise
Today, Wolf is living out a career his younger self would not have felt capable of.
In the summer of 2016, Wolf had pulled enough espresso shots and whipped so many caramel-drizzled Frappuccinos that the 27-year-old had been promoted to district manager of several Starbucks in Orlando, including one just down the street from Pulse.
He was steadily climbing the company ladder, well on his way to achieving his goal of working at Starbucks headquarters in Seattle and owning a little house in the suburbs, perhaps with a Subaru parked in the driveway.
He had in recent years become best friends with an effervescent 32-year-old man named Christopher Leinonen, whose nickname was “Drew.”
“He was one of the first people to challenge me to be the most unapologetic version of myself,” said Wolf. “We were inseparable for years.”
The pair became so inseparable Wolf got an apartment two doors down from Leinonen’s. They could burst in and out of each other’s front door like sitcom characters, always able to peek out the window to see if the other was home.
On the night of June 12, Wolf had invited Leinonen and his boyfriend, 22-year-old Juan Ramon Guerrero, to Pulse. He had hoped his friends could act as a buffer between him and his ex-boyfriend, whom he was meeting at the club that night.
In the years since, his memory has vividly preserved some moments from the shooting, while others seem to lie just out of reach. He can still clearly remember where he was when the shooting began: in the restroom, washing his hands. His eyes had rested on a flimsy plastic cup that had been abandoned on the sink, holding ragged lime slices and a slush of ice that was causing little beads of condensation to form on its sides.
What he cannot recall, though, are the faces of terrified people who rushed into the bathroom and huddled alongside him. Realizing he needed to escape, Wolf rushed for an exit door.
He had no time to find Leinonen and Guerrero, whom he had left on the dance floor to enjoy one last song.
“Nothing really prepares you for going out for a drink with your friends and then having to call their parents hours later to tell them that their kids are not coming home,” Wolf said. “The way that reshapes what’s important to you, the way it reshapes what you see as success in your life, is really profound.”
In the days leading up to a joint funeral service for Leinonen and Guerrero, Wolf struggled to write a eulogy that captured who “Drew” was to him. He had always been Wolf’s greatest champion and had recently told Wolf he deserved to dream bigger about his future.
As Wolf approached Leinonen’s casket on the day of the funeral, he was overcome with all of the things he wished he had said to his friend. It was the last time they would be together after spending every day just yards apart.
Leaning over Leinonen’s casket, Wolf felt moved to make a promise to his friend. He whispered: “I will never stop fighting for a world you would be proud of.”
Since that day, Wolf has grasped onto those parting words.
For about three years after the shooting, Wolf volunteered for local political campaigns, searching for somewhere to direct his grief and anger. His work led him to become the press secretary for Equality Florida, an LGBTQ+ civil rights nonprofit, and later the national press secretary for the Human Rights Campaign in Washington, DC.
Alongside Leinonen’s mother, he co-founded a nonprofit, The Dru Project, in part giving scholarships to students they believe exemplify Drew’s spirit. He documented his experience at Pulse – and his unconditional love for Leinonen – in his memoir, “A Place for Us.”
Last month, Wolf announced he will move back home to Orlando to work again for Equality Florida as its senior director of communications strategy.
When he announced the move, Wolf nodded to Pulse, saying the aftermath taught him “what it looks like when communities refuse to give up on one another, when communities choose love over hate.”
Wolf still grapples with the slow fading of his memories. He hoards old phones, hoping to find a voicemail that will capture the high-pitched, almost squeaky tone that would fill Leinonen’s voice when he was excited to tell Wolf something.
He misses the tight-lipped smile Guerrero would give when he was trying to hide his braces, or the way Leinonen would walk ahead of them on giggly nights out, bouncing up on his toes as if he was about to float away.
Before Pulse, Wolf’s world revolved around his friendship with Leinonen. Now, he lives to honor it.
“I don’t think I was ever really the protagonist in my own story,” Wolf said of his life before Pulse. “I think that was actually Drew and I’m just the narrator, and it took Pulse for me to find that voice.”
Keinon Carter, whose painstaking recovery taught him to ‘take control’
Carter’s scant memories from after he was shot feel like something he has only seen in movies: scenes of the dark club were framed by his slowly-blinking eyelids, his vision blurring as he faded in and out of awareness.
He had fallen to the floor near a bar where go-go dancers would usually be twisting and turning under beams of strobing light. While trying to calm his breathing, he heard the gunman walking close to him, seizing him with horror.
In a split second, he felt the sharp impact of several more bullets hitting his body.
A fog enveloped his mind, and he blacked out again.
After arriving at the emergency room hours later, Carter had been rushed in and out of surgery in an attempt to revive him and halt his internal bleeding. Bullets had cracked his pelvis, shattered the back of his spinal column and torn through his leg, intestines and kidney.
Later, at the hospital, a nurse affirmed the worst fears of Carter’s sister, Shawnna Benbow: her brother was dead.
No more could be done, the nurse told her. Her brother hadn’t made it.
The nurse took Benbow to a solitary gurney where Carter was, draped in a white sheet. His sister snatched the sheet back in disbelief, only to see his blank face seemingly devoid of life.
But as she sobbed over his body, she was shocked to see Carter’s head move up and down, and he gently squeezed her hand.
Desperate to believe he was still alive, Benbow called in a crowd of doctors and nurses who looked on in shock as Carter slowly twitched his toes and lifted his thumb.
“Take him back,” Benbow demanded of the doctors, she recalled saying in the 2022 documentary “Surviving Pulse: Life After a Mass Shooting.” “Take him back into surgery. Do whatever you need to do to save my brother’s life.”
Over the next few weeks, Carter remained in a coma as surgeons tried to repair his organs and reconstruct his shattered bones. When he regained consciousness a month later, his eyes were flooded by the stark, bright light of a hospital room.
At 31 years old, his slender, 6’4” body was almost unrecognizable to him. He had undergone several more surgeries and now bore the scars to prove it. He would have to wear a colostomy bag. It was possible that he could never walk again.
“It was very, very scary,” he said. “I wasn’t prepared.”
A month had passed since the shooting. But outside, the city of Orlando had been reckoning with its horrific losses, holding heart-wrenching vigils, hearing emotional speeches calling for an end to anti-gay hatred and gun violence, and splashing rainbows on flags, business windows and makeshift memorials that dotted the streets. Carter missed it all.
“There was a time in the hospital where my friends and my sister didn’t allow me to see anything,” Carter recalled. He had no phone, no TV and no social media. “I didn’t even know my friend Antonio Brown was dead.”
Carter had only recently met Brown, a 30-year-old Army Reserve captain, and the two had been quick to form a friendship. Though they had only known each other for a few months, they spent almost every day together, Carter said.
“It just hurt real bad because I felt like I really, really, really, really, really, really lost a good one, and there’s no explanation for it,” he said.
He reentered the world after two months in the hospital with a heavy heart and a profound task of shouldering his mental and physical recovery.
“The healing starts as soon as you leave that hospital,” he said. “You’re trying to heal your mental and your physical at the same time. They both coexist.”
One blessing, Carter said, has been the support of his medical providers. By the time he left the hospital, he had racked up more than $200,000 of out-of-pocket medical expenses. The hospital waived his bill – and continues to do so as he gets ongoing care.
At home, Carter began an hour-by-hour adjustment to his new life. With the help of his boyfriend, he learned to navigate his home with a wheelchair. He could not wear his usual clothes, choosing to only wear loose clothing to accommodate a new colostomy bag and surgical scars.
In the first year, he underwent more than two dozen surgeries to correct the damage the bullets had done. As he started to learn to walk again, he willed himself to push through the unbearable pins-and-needles sensation that radiated through his legs when he challenged them to bear his full weight.
When he attempted to return to work, his body sent out distress signals – a deep ache in his back, rushes of pain spreading from his leg up his spine. He gave up his hope of returning to his livelihood in construction and spent years unable to work.
As he pushed his body toward recovery, he couldn’t help but feel anger over the amount of time it had taken for him to receive medical treatment on the day of the shooting.
Carter is one of several survivors and victims’ family members who believe if police confronted the shooter sooner, their loved ones would still be alive or survivors would have suffered less. He was among a large group of plaintiffs who accused the city in a lawsuit of failing to properly train their officers to react to active shooters, and alleged officers failed to immediately neutralize the shooter. The suit was ultimately denied by an appeals court.
In the years that followed, law enforcement agencies nationwide changed their response to active shootings, more clearly recognizing that the first officers on scene should move to confront the shooter immediately, even if alone.
If it was up to Carter, he would leave what happened at Pulse behind him. But he is forced to remember every day as his leg, hip and back ache and his muscles tighten to compensate for his injuries. On his worst days, the pain requires him to rely on a cane.
He has lost count of how many surgeries he’s had over the last decade. He stopped counting at around 60.
“I try to keep it out of my mind and keep pushing forward all the time,” he said.
Today, Carter is limited to working jobs that aren’t physically demanding. He works an administrative job at a window installation company, but he aspires to own a restaurant in the near future.
What cuisine you may ask? “That’s still my secret.”
Carter has also spent time over the years learning the ins-and-outs of nonprofit businesses, hoping to open a center to support Black LGBTQ+ youth.
He has learned through his recovery, he said, to “just take control of your own life, your own story, your own health, your own mental (health).”
As the 10-year mark approaches, Carter is ready to shut the door on what he describes as a “chapter” of his life.
“Why do I need to keep it open?” he said.
Tiara Parker, the cousin who grapples with survivor’s guilt
Though Pulse had always prided itself on being a hot destination for Orlando’s LGBTQ+ crowd, it also happily welcomed familiar locals, giggling bachelorette parties and out-of-towners who stepped through its doors.
Tiara Parker, a 20-year-old from Philadelphia, was visiting Orlando on a family vacation, and initially didn’t want to go to Pulse at all. She didn’t want to go out anywhere, for that matter, preferring to stay in the rental condo and relax. But her 18-year-old cousin, Akyra Murray, and her friend, Patience Carter, convinced her to join them on a night out.
“Why not?” thought Parker. They were on vacation, after all, and she had worked double shifts at her job as a public health educator so she could have extra money to spend.
Everything felt normal as the women danced to the club’s “Latin Night” -themed DJ set and took turns recording grinning videos on their phones. As 2 a.m. approached, they discussed taking an Uber home.
But at that moment, the sharp sounds of gunfire rang through the club. Parker froze, stunned and confused, while her cousin and friend sprinted for an exit. Realizing Parker was still inside, the women ran back into the building and the trio fled into a handicap bathroom stall, where they huddled with more than a dozen others.
They sat petrified as they heard the gunman approach the stall door. They heard him curse: His semi-automatic rifle had jammed. But he pulled out another gun and fired into their stall. Tiara was hit in her side and her arm and had graze wounds on her hip and back. She was relieved to see Akyra had only been hit in her arms.
As the three women lay silently in the stall waiting for rescue, they formed a morbid Morse code, using their fingers to tap or scratch to let each other know they were still alive. The shooter went in and out of the bathroom, talking with hostage negotiators on the phone.
Finally, the women began to hear action outside as police screamed at them to get away from the walls, and used a BearCat to ram a hole in the wall. During a shootout between police and the gunman, Akyra was struck behind her ear with a bullet, Parker said. Akyra was later pronounced dead at the scene.
“My cousin saved my life,” Parker said. “I knew I wasn’t responsible for what happened to her. Anybody who knew me and knew who I was, they know I would never let nothing happen to her.”
Even so, Parker felt blame and guilt for her cousin’s death. She felt Akyra’s parents were so consumed by grief and anger that they resented Parker. Though the cousins were only two years apart in age, Parker was keeping an eye out for Akyra, who was the youngest victim to die inside Pulse.
If Akyra had not returned to find her, Parker believes she likely would have died instead.
“It hurt. Survivor’s guilt really took a toll on me,” Parker said. “It broke my heart to have been blamed for my cousin’s death, knowing that I would have did anything to make sure she was here.”
Though Parker and Carter made it out alive, the shock of the shooting – and the physical trauma of lying still for hours with her wounds – took its toll. After she was carried out of the club, she found her legs would not move, even though they had not been hit. She had to go to physical therapy to recover her ability to walk.
Searching for a way to distract herself, Parker returned to work just weeks after the shooting. Looking back, she now knows that was too soon.
For three years, she descended deeper into depression, pushing off thoughts of that night as much as she could. Her relationship with Akyra’s parents and brother crumbled, she said, as they could not reconcile after the teenager’s death.
She was adrift on an island of her own. Parker was surrounded by friends and family who were willing to do anything to help her recover, but none could understand the horror she had endured. Those who shared her trauma were nearly 1,000 miles away.
Finally, on a day in 2019, the weight of it all – the blame, the horrific flashbacks, the loss of Akyra – became too much. She could no longer push back the encroaching feeling that she did not want to live anymore.
Parker collapsed under it all, finding herself in the throes of a nervous breakdown on the floor of her home in Philadelphia. She called her godsister and pleaded for her to come over and help.
“It beat me down,” Parker said. “As strong as I am, my strong wall fell, and I got tired, and that was the end for me.”
She sat in her room, knowing she had every right to sink into her grief.
“I realized, ‘I cannot stay here,’” she said. “I didn’t want to stay there no more, and I was so serious about that, and I had to call myself out of a dark space.”
She threw herself into her passion for makeup artistry, a transition she said “saved her life.”
“Being able to make up other people and make them feel beautiful – I learned that helping people is what makes me feel good,” Parker said.
Part of Parker’s recovery has included showing up for other mass casualty survivors in a way that only those who have experienced such a tragedy can.
Parker is the vice president of Victims First, a nonprofit founded by mass casualty survivors. The board includes survivors of Pulse, a 2012 theater shooting in Aurora and the 2017 Route 91 Harvest Festival shooting in Las Vegas. When tragedy strikes in American communities, she flies in to help victims make sense of what happened to them and get financial assistance.
“Sharing my story was also a big part of that,” Parker said. She shows other victims, “I am a real living being. … You can get through it.”
While she acknowledges many survivors find shooting anniversaries painful, she said the occasion has invited her to appreciate how much she has overcome.
“It definitely reflects how far I’ve come as a person and as a survivor of such a tragic event, and how I was able to recover and rebuild my life after going through what I went through,” she said.
As an increasing number of American communities – more than 4,000 and counting – have fallen victim to mass shootings since 2016, survivors increasingly say their path to healing is one that may never be complete.
For the Pulse survivors who spoke to CNN, marking 10 years since the shooting has surfaced complicated emotions. Though they are mixed on whether they will participate in memorial events in Orlando, all said they will take time to honor their lost loved ones.
“Healing is not linear,” said Wolf, who often shares his experience as a survivor publicly. “Orlando is a community that will probably never be fully healed.”
Every June 12, Wolf begins the day with ice cream for breakfast, he said, “because we all deserve a sweet treat on the hard days.” He then spends the morning flicking through photos and spending time with the friends Leinonen introduced him to “who have gotten me through the last 10 years.”
Parker, who recently gave birth to a son, has bowed out of attending memorial events this year so she can care for her baby. She visits Akyra’s grave each year around the anniversary of her death. Her cousin, who was about to begin her first year of college, “would have been amazing,” she said.
“I used to go sit at that grave site and I would be in full-fledged, ugly tears. Now, I go there and I talk to her as if she’s standing right there with me,” she said.
Carter will drive from Orlando to visit his friend Brown’s burial site for the first time. He hopes the pilgrimage will help him find a little more peace.
Even after all this time, Carter struggles to speak about Brown.
“All I can say about him: He was a true soldier. He was a real American patriot. He served for his country. That was the type of man he was.”
After a long pause, Carter added, “and a damn good friend.”
(Trice Edney Wire) – They are calling it a budget cut. But let’s be clear: when Congress cuts WIC, it is taking food from pregnant women, babies, toddlers, and young children.
WIC is not cash welfare. It is not a giveaway. It is one of the most efficient and humane nutrition programs this country has ever created. It provides targeted food support, breastfeeding support, nutrition counseling, and health referrals to pregnant and postpartum women, infants, and children up to age five. It helps families buy milk, eggs, cereal, formula, fruits, vegetables, and other basics that make the difference between nourishment and hunger.
Now the House has decided that these families should do with less.
On June 4, the House passed the FY2027 Agriculture appropriations bill, including a $200 million cut to WIC and a reduction in the fruit-and-vegetable benefit. For a family already stretching every dollar, that is not an abstraction. That is fewer apples. Fewer greens. Less formula. Less food at the very moment when food matters most.
The numbers are stark. The House bill cuts WIC by $200 million and reduces the fruit-and-vegetable benefit. The White House proposal goes even further, slashing the monthly produce benefit for young children from $26 to about $10. That is a $16 cut per child each month — more than 60 percent — in the very part of WIC designed to put fresh food on the table.
Some will say that $16 a month is not much. But $16 is only “not much” to people who have never been down to their last $16. For a family living on the edge, $16 is milk and bananas, eggs and apples, bus fare to the grocery store, or the difference between buying fresh food and buying the cheapest calories available. A cut does not have to be large to be cruel. Sometimes the last $16 is the last straw.
This is what cruelty looks like when it wears a green eyeshade.
We are told, endlessly, that this nation cares about children. Politicians pose with babies, praise mothers, salute families, and campaign on “values.” But values are not measured by slogans. They are measured by budgets. And a budget that takes food from women and children tells us exactly whose lives are expendable.
WIC also supports farmers, grocers, and local food economies. When a mother uses WIC dollars to buy fresh fruit, vegetables, milk, eggs, cereal, or formula, that money does not disappear. It goes to grocery stores, farmers markets, dairy producers, food distributors, and growers who depend on regular customers. Less WIC money means fewer purchases of healthy food. It means fewer dollars circulating in local communities. It means that a cut aimed at poor women and children also reaches farmers and small businesses. Nutrition dollars are economic dollars, too.
That is especially important because healthy food is already too expensive for too many families. Fruits and vegetables are often the first things to disappear from a household budget when money gets tight. WIC helps keep those foods on the table. Cutting the fruit-and-vegetable benefit does not simply reduce choice; it narrows possibility. It tells a mother to stretch, substitute, and make do. It tells a child that fresh food is optional. It tells farmers that the public dollars that helped families buy their produce are no longer a priority.
What kind of country negotiates over the nutrition of infants? What kind of Congress looks at pregnant women and toddlers and says, “You cost too much”? What kind of moral arithmetic takes fresh fruit and vegetables from a child’s plate while protecting tax breaks, weapons contracts, corporate subsidies, and political theater? What kind of Congress spends nearly $2 billion a day on an undeclared war against Iran, then skimps on food for children?
The House has acted, but the Senate has not finished its work. Final negotiations are still ahead. That means advocacy matters now. Not next month. Not after recess. Now.
The ask is simple: fully fund WIC. Reject cuts to the fruit-and-vegetable benefit. Preserve the virtual and remote services that make WIC accessible to working mothers, rural families, and those without easy transportation. Do not balance the budget on babies.
The United States can find money for tax breaks, weapons, walls, corporate subsidies, and billionaire giveaways. Surely it can find money for bananas, carrots, milk, cereal, formula, and breastfeeding support.
The families who rely on WIC are not asking for luxury. They are asking for food. They are asking for nourishment. They are asking for a basic public commitment that babies should not go hungry, that pregnant women should not be undernourished, and that children should have access to the building blocks of health. That should not be controversial. It should be the floor beneath our politics.
When children are hungry, delay is a decision. When pregnant women are undernourished, silence is complicity. And when Congress chooses austerity for babies while protecting abundance for the powerful, we should name it for what it is.
The communities most vulnerable to climate change are often the least responsible for causing it. Yet researchers found that the language designed to explain that disparity may be unfamiliar to many of the people it is intended to empower. Credit: Getty Images
The communities most vulnerable to climate change are often the least responsible for causing it. Yet researchers found that the language designed to explain that disparity may be unfamiliar to many of the people it is intended to empower. Credit: Getty Images
Climate activists have spent years arguing that climate change is also a civil rights issue.
But a new study suggests one of the movement’s most popular phrases — “climate justice” — may not be connecting with many of the people it is meant to reach, including residents of Black and low-income communities that face some of the greatest environmental risks.
The findings raise a challenge for advocates: if communities understand the dangers of climate change but not the language used to describe them, the movement may need a different way to make its case.
Just 36% of respondents were familiar or very familiar with the term “climate justice,” while two-thirds were not, according to the paper, recently published in the journal PLOS Climate. The results illustrate that the lack of familiarity with climate justice is not just an academic concern.
“Of course, our findings should not be interpreted as a lack of interest in ‘climate justice’ in Los Angeles County and its low-income communities,” the authors of the study wrote.
“People living on low incomes do tend to be more aware that climate change disproportionately affects their communities and are more supportive of climate policies, provided they are combined with economic policies such as affordable housing and raising the minimum wage,” according to the study. “Responses to the term ‘climate justice’ may therefore have been more positive among low-income respondents if it had been accompanied by a more detailed elaboration.”
The findings matter because Black Americans disproportionately experience many of climate change’s consequences.
Multiple studies have shown Black communities are more likely to experience extreme heat, flooding, air pollution, and other environmental hazards as a result of a warming planet. At the same time, those communities often have fewer resources to recover from disasters.
Climate justice emerged as a framework to explain those disparities, but the new research suggests the terminology itself may not be resonating with the people most affected.
The paper examined how people in Los Angeles responded to the term climate justice and related terms: climate change, global warming, climate crisis, and climate emergency.
The researchers picked Los Angeles, which includes a number of historically Black communities, because it’s “an area that might be expected to respond well to the term ‘climate justice’ due to its exposure to climate-related hazards, strong pro-environmental attitudes, and substantial income inequality.”
The survey results prove otherwise, even when accounting for income. Among the survey’s two cohorts — those who earn more than $60,000 annually and those who earn less — there was no significant difference in understanding of climate justice.
Respondents were also asked follow-up questions to gauge how the term might prompt them to respond, as well as to get a sense of specific micro- and macro-level actions that might be taken to alleviate the problem.
Concern, urgency, policy support, and willingness to decrease red meat consumption were all lowest among those surveyed about climate justice compared to the other, more familiar terms related to climate change.
Whether or not it’s worth the time and effort to make climate justice a more widely familiar and well-understood term is an open question. However, the authors of the study instead see that there are already good options at hand.
“Using familiar language like ‘climate change’ or ‘global warming’ will elicit more public concern and willingness to act,” they wrote.
Sean "Diddy" Combs, pictured here in 2023, faces new accusations of sexual assault, which he denies. (Shareif Ziyadat/Getty Images via CNN Newsource)
Sean “Diddy” Combs, pictured here in 2023, faces new accusations of sexual assault, which he denies. (Shareif Ziyadat/Getty Images via CNN Newsource)
By Elizabeth Wagmeister, CNN
(CNN) — A former child actor has accused Sean “Diddy” Combs of sexually assaulting him in 2007 at a networking event in the Hollywood Hills.
The anonymous male accuser filed his lawsuit against Combs this week in California. CNN has obtained a copy of the suit.
The lawsuit is the latest in the mounting and continuous legal troubles for the incarcerated music mogul, who is currently appealing his conviction on federal charges in New York on two counts of transportation to engage in prostitution, for which he was sentenced to more than four years in prison. He also has a case under active review by the Los Angeles County district attorney’s office, according to a spokesperson for that office.
In the new lawsuit, Combs is accused of guiding the child actor into a backroom at a networking event where he offered him an alcoholic drink before touching the minor and then performing oral sex on him, the complaint states.
A representative for Combs denied the new allegations.
“Mr. Combs unequivocally denies these allegations. This complaint describes events that allegedly occurred nearly twenty years ago and is based solely on the plaintiff’s account. We will review the complaint carefully and respond through the appropriate legal process. We are confident that the facts will demonstrate these claims are without merit,” Juda Engelmayer, a spokesperson for Combs, told CNN.
According to the complaint, Combs told the child actor that “he wanted to speak to him privately about some potential opportunities” and told him he would be a “good candidate for an upcoming project.”
Once Combs and the minor were in a back room, Combs offered him his alcoholic beverage and made small talk before he “began to rub on” the minor’s arm, the complaint alleges. The male accuser told Combs “that he did not feel comfortable with the way Defendant Combs was touching him.” Combs tried to make him relax, according to the complaint.
“Then, Defendant Combs pulled down Plaintiff’s pants and underwear and began to fondle Plaintiff’s genitalia all while Combs was simultaneously touching himself,” the lawsuit states. “Defendant Combs then performed oral copulation on the minor Plaintiff while continuing to touch himself. Defendant Combs then pulled up his pants and told Plaintiff he would see where they would go from there for the role he had in mind.”
The accuser filed his suit under the pseudonym “John YH Roe.” He is described as launching his “career as a child actor” around 2004, but no other details are provided regarding his identity or the roles he booked. His age at the time was not divulged, other than stating that around the time of the alleged assault in May 2007, the plaintiff “was a minor child under the age of 18.”
The accuser is also suing his former talent agency, claiming they did not adequately protect him as a minor and should have had an adult chaperone accompanying him at the networking event to which they invited him.
This is not the first time Combs has been accused of sexual assault by a minor. He has faced lawsuits from plaintiffs who allege they were teenagers at the time they were allegedly assaulted with one accuser who claimed he was just 10 years old when he was assaulted by Combs. Many accusers have said they were allegedly assaulted at auditions or other business events.
Combs has denied all allegations against him and has said he has never sexually assaulted a minor, or anyone else for that matter.
In previous statements, attorneys for Combs have told CNN, “Mr. Combs never sexually assaulted or trafficked anyone—man or woman, adult or minor.”
Aside from the dozens of civil suits Combs is facing, the Los Angeles County District Attorney’s Office is currently reviewing a sexual assault case against Combs, determining whether the case is strong enough to move forward with pressing charges.
“In the fall of 2025, LAPD and LASD each presented a separate sexual assault investigation for one victim to the Los Angeles County District Attorney’s Office. We are reviewing the case,” a spokesperson for Los Angeles County District Attorney Nathan Hochman told CNN last week.
That case comes after Jonathan Hay, a music publicist who spoke extensively to CNN last year, accused Combs of masturbating in front of him on one occasion in 2020 and forced him to perform oral sex on him in 2021.
Combs’ team did not respond to CNN’s request for comment regarding the DA’s office review of the case against Combs in Los Angeles. But ever since Hay filed his civil suit against Combs, the musician’s attorneys have fiercely denied his allegations.
“As Mr. Combs’ legal team has repeatedly stated for over a year now, he cannot address every meritless allegation in what has become a media circus. Let me make it absolutely clear, Mr. Combs categorically denies as false and defamatory all claims that he sexually abused anyone,” Jonathan Davis, a civil attorney for Combs, previously told CNN in a statement.
“Knowing that the Los Angeles County District Attorney Office is actively reviewing my case is a profound moment of validation,” Hay told CNN via email this week. “I am committed to seeing that justice is served. Those responsible for their actions must finally face the consequences mandated by the law.”
CNN has also reached out to the former child actor’s attorney for further comment on the suit filed this week.
Going green at home isn’t just for tree huggers (though there’s nothing wrong with loving trees). At a time when your dollar doesn’t stretch as far as it used to, making environmentally smart choices for your house and family can be a great way to save some cash. Here’s where greener products and environmentally-friendly decision-making could give your family some financial relief.
Appliances
Appliance replacement is a simple and impactful way to go green and cut your utility bills. If you need a new dishwasher, washer, dryer, oven, or fridge anyway, Energy Star and efficient appliances may be worthwhile for your home. Read up on when and how you can best replace each appliance for maximum savings and efficiency; some appliances can be replaced after they die, while others are worth replacing ASAP, thanks to their substantial energy drain (especially refrigerators).
While monthly energy and water savings aren’t a 100% guarantee for new appliances, it’s highly likely a new, Energy Star-certified machine will work more efficiently and cost less each month than your current appliance.
Your clothing and decor purchases are easy places to start thinking and buying more sustainably. Shopping secondhand — for clothing, decor, furniture, and more — can save you some serious cash, while also helping keep many of these items out of landfills, avoiding the waste and emissions created when you buy something new, and often being more fun and engaging than ordering on Amazon or Temu.
Some online groups, like local Facebook FreeCycle communities, can even help you snag major, used finds at no cost. Clothing is a huge area where you can make a difference. While fast fashion often seems like your best budgetary choice, consider that humans produce 92 million tons of textile waste every year, and the length of time we use our clothes is decreasing. Instead of buying cheap clothes that will end up in a landfill within a year, try thrifting and secondhand shopping to find older, sturdier clothes that don’t require new labor and emissions to produce.
Photo: stockbroker via 123RF
Food and Dining
Shopping local is an amazing way to lower your carbon footprint. Foods grown far away and at large scale require more water and emissions to produce and transport than foods grown locally through a small-scale operation. Farmer’s markets offer a great venue for meeting and supporting local growers and for shopping close to home, but they’re also financially accessible. Many markets and vendors accept SNAP and WIC benefits, offering all shoppers the chance to enjoy fresh, locally grown food (plus the satisfaction of knowing your money is staying in your community).
While grocery shopping smarter matters, so does using the food you buy. The Department of Agriculture reports that the average U.S. family of four loses $1,500 to food waste every year, an issue for both finances and the environment. Food waste is a massive contributor to U.S. landfills, where it indicates tremendous water, land, and energy resources are wasted on unused food. In your own home, smart, intentional meal planning and prepping will help you cut food waste, but save on a grocery bill that’s not partially dedicated to uneaten meals.
When it comes to the food waste your home will still inevitably produce, consider setting up a home composting system or donating your food scraps to a local community composting program, both of which can help support any of your home gardening efforts with free or low-cost compost.
When you make greener choices at home, you’re not just giving back to the environment — you’re supporting your family’s bottom line.
Finances FYI is presented by JPMorgan Chase. JPMorgan Chase is making a $30 billion commitment over the next five years to address some of the largest drivers of the racial wealth divide.
At a Word In Black panel discussion experts discussed the Black men's mental health crisis. The panel featured (from upper left)Senbi Akau “Terence” Spruill, Dr. Jason Phillips, a licensed therapist, health entrepreneur Brian Sims and moderator Joseph Williams, Word In Black's head of content. Credit: Facebook/Word In Black
At a Word In Black panel discussion experts discussed the Black men’s mental health crisis. The panel featured (from upper left)Senbi Akau “Terence” Spruill, Dr. Jason Phillips, a licensed therapist, health entrepreneur Brian Sims and moderator Joseph Williams, Word In Black’s head of content. Credit: Facebook/Word In Black
A June 2 conversation about Black men’s mental health opened in a manner reflecting the acute nature of the mental health crisis Black American men face daily. Instead of jumping right into the statistics, Word In Black’s event, “Safe Space, How to Support Black Men’s Mental Health,” set the tone with stillness.
Senbi Akau “Terence” Spruill, a meditation leader, rites-of-passage facilitator, and author of Superhero Syndrome: The Perfect Pressure, guided participants through a breathing exercise before the discussion began — a deliberate choice that set the tone for what followed.
“It is said that stress is the number one killer,” Spruill said. “So breathe and relax.”
In a forum about Black men and mental health, the act of collectively slowing down — of men giving themselves permission to simply breathe — was itself a form of resistance against a culture that frequently demands the opposite.
Defining the Crisis
Moderator Joseph Williams, head of content at Word in Black, made the nature of the crisis plain: suicide rates among Black men are climbing. So are deaths of despair — drug overdoses, alcohol abuse, and what some researchers are calling “suicide by cop.”
But for generations, he noted, Black men have been taught a clear and damaging set of rules: don’t talk about it and don’t admit sadness or anxiety because people will think you’re weak. That silence, Williams said, has roots in generational trauma, toxic masculinity, and a health care system that has ignored or harmed Black men.”
Brian Sims, a healthcare entrepreneur who curates mental wellness events for Black men in Baltimore, detailed how the crisis has become anything but an academic issue for him. He said he’s seen men in his family carry the pain of psychological wounds — from modern-day microaggressions to unresolved generational trauma dating to the Jim Crow era.
“Our fathers are passing, and with them are passing a lot of unanswered questions,” Sims said, “because they lived lives that weren’t always quite so full and so healed.”
Dr. Jason Phillips, a licensed therapist, life coach, and creator of the documentary “Man Enough to Heal: Black Men and Therapy,” said he is seeing a growing number of young male clients seek help, including adolescents — sometimes at their parents’ urging, but increasingly on their own.
“I’m seeing more teenagers, 13, 14, 15, and up, because their parents are seeing signs of anger and isolation,” Phillips said. “But I’m also seeing the child raise their hand and ask to talk to somebody, saying, ‘I’m feeling stressed, I have some anxiety, some things I want to work through.’”
An Issue with Deep Roots
The panelists identified several overlapping issues driving the crisis, including mass incarceration, systemic racism, rising use of social media combined with eroding community bonds. The stressors are occurring amid the stubbornly persistent mythology of the stoic, self-sufficient Black man who needs nothing and no one.
“A lot of these things — the stubbornness, the resistance to vulnerability — are survival tools,” Sims said. “They may not be serving us all the time, but we have to identify where they come from before we can address them.”
Spruill identified such tendencies as a sort of self-censorship.
“The root cause is the disconnection from self, not understanding who our true identity is beyond the personality, beyond the conditionings we’ve learned by growing up,” Spruill said. Engaging with that identity, he says, “ gives us more tools and options on how to respond to the challenges that could lead to a mental health crisis.”
Phillips pointed out how Black men wear several masks to navigate race and masculinity in the white world, such as a non-threatening persona for the workplace, and one as a protector and provider for a family. Switching between them can exacerbate loneliness and isolation.
The belief that men must keep their emotions in check, Phillips says, is so strong that some men in virtual sessions would rather go off camera than let him see them cry.
The Brotherhood Gap
One of the most resonant themes of the evening was the absence of structured rites of passage and male brotherhood in the lives of Black men and boys. Spruill said he believes that “every Black male … should be part of a brotherhood of some sort” committed to “cultivating masculinity and cultivating Black manhood.”
He also pushed back on the phrase “toxic masculinity”: the problem, he said, is not masculinity itself but how masculinity is defined and expressed.
Some men don’t know how to channel their fire and utilize their energy intelligently and compassionately,” he said. That’s solved, he says, “when we have strong brotherhoods” in which the elders teach the younger ones.
Sims, who grew up with several sisters and an emotionally distant father, said he found his brotherhood on the football field — and has spent years trying to rebuild it after hanging up his cleats.
“I realized that’s something I’ve been missing for a long time,” he said.
Phillips said youngsters who don’t like sports can build community around a passion, such as art or music, and find mentors through initiatives like Big Brothers Big Sisters.
While “not everybody’s going to seek out therapy,” he said, boys and young men “do need socialization with other men where they can be comfortable being themselves.”
Self-Love and the Weight We Carry
The panelists agreed on a gaping hole in the fabric of Black male wellbeing: self-love. It ranges, they said, from regular exercise and a healthy diet to stress management and positive self-talk.
“A lot of us men don’t even know that we struggle with self-love,” Phillips said. “By the time we acknowledge it, we may be three or four [therapy] sessions in — and they say, ‘Wow, I didn’t even realize that. I’ve been so focused on my kids, my parents, my partner. I don’t know how to love myself.’”
Sims agreed that many men believe they “are only as valuable as what they can do for others,” and self-care, he said, can feel indulgent — not essential. He described a recent shift he’s witnessed when he encourages brothers to reach out to each other and simply ask, “What can we do together this week?”
“I can’t tell you how many guys have either spontaneously started crying because you’ve unlocked something in them, or somebody has told me about another brother who cried about something that came up,” Sims said. “Those tears are often right behind our eyeballs. They’re just waiting to come out.”
Using his book as a framework, Spruill described three archetypes born from the pressure to perform: the “excessive one” who cheats to win at all costs, the “deficient one” — the hiding coward — who lies to himself to avoid competition and exposure, and the “authentic hero,” who acknowledges the desire to win but pursues it honorably and without shame.
“The life pressure is not going to lift up,” Spruill said. “It’s either going to burst a pipe or make a diamond. How the male responds is based on how well he’s prepared.”
Finding Trustworthy Help
For those seeking therapy, Phillips offered a practical guide: prioritize trust over credentials, ask a prospective therapist directly how they would help you with your specific concerns, and don’t be afraid to walk away if it isn’t working.
Phillips said the men he interviewed for his documentary were nearly unanimous in their view: Black men need Black male therapists.
“With a Black male therapist, you don’t have to explain certain things,” he said. “When you come to therapy, you can just get right to it — right to the work.”
A Call to Action
As the event closed, each panelist offered ways for attendees to stay connected and take next steps, reinforcing the theme of the conversation: healing for Black men is not a solo endeavor, and the silence society has demanded of them has come at a cost too high to keep paying.
“We are not meant to do this man thing alone,” Spruill said.
This discussion was hosted by Word in Black with sponsorship from the Knight Foundation, a nonpartisan and community-centered organization that promotes a healthy and engaged democracy. The full discussion can be found below.
A former prisoner, co-founder Bayron Wilson helped build Urban Alchemy of San Francisco into one of the nation's largest employers of justice-impacted people — proving people are more than their mistakes. Credit: Courtesy of Urban Alchemy
A former prisoner, co-founder Bayron Wilson helped build Urban Alchemy of San Francisco into one of the nation’s largest employers of justice-impacted people — proving people are more than their mistakes. Credit: Courtesy of Urban Alchemy
Bayron Wilson openly acknowledges he served time in prison. But he rejects the labels society places on people like him, which can become barriers as powerful as prison walls.
“I am not an ex-con,” Wilson said. “I am a father, I’m a husband, I’m a boss, I am a Black man. I have so many other things that I am, but I’m not an ex-con.”
Changing the narrative around formerly incarcerated people is at the heart of Wilson’s work as chief operating officer and co-founder of Urban Alchemy, a San Francisco-based nonprofit. He and Dr. Lena Miller — a therapist, co-founder, and CEO —have grown Urban Alchemy into one of the nation’s largest employers of formerly incarcerated and justice-impacted people while providing services for unhoused residents and communities in crisis.
Trauma and Healing
The organization employs approximately 1,300 people, with Wilson estimating that nearly all of them have experienced arrest or incarceration, homelessness, addiction, or mental health challenges. All of them, he says, have value.
“We can be much more than what the world tries to call us,” Wilson said.
The organization’s roots trace back to San Francisco’s Hunters Point neighborhood, one of the city’s historic Black communities. Wilson recalled watching Miller, a trauma specialist, bring together young people from rival groups while teaching about the impact of trauma on behavior.
At the time, Wilson said he didn’t get Miller’s approach, in part because he was dealing with his own issues — including a crime that would land him in prison. “When you’re currently in it, you don’t understand all the facts of trauma,” he said.
After his release, Wilson turned his life around. He worked in reentry programs helping formerly incarcerated individuals find employment. What he observed troubled him: organizations that said they supported people returning home from prison but only offered dead-end jobs with little opportunity for growth.
What has surprised me is there are so many gifted, so many talented Black men and Brown men in prison. They just need an opportunity.
Bayron Wilson, co-founder, urban alchemy
Urban Alchemy was built to remove those barriers.
“There’s not going to be any ceilings,” Wilson says. “This is about opportunities. You can go as high as you want in the organization.”
Emotional Intelligence
The organization operates through three primary areas: housing communities, connected communities, and safe communities.
Housing communities include shelters and temporary housing that emphasize dignity and relationship-building. Connected communities include Oasis centers that offer showers, storage, restrooms and welcoming spaces for unhoused residents. And safe communities provide alternatives to traditional law enforcement responses for people experiencing homelessness, behavioral health crises and other nonviolent situations.
The approach, Wilson says, is rooted in trauma-informed care and empowering their clients. Wilson frequently references the idea that trauma can lead to emotional intelligence when people are given opportunities to heal.
“Those closer to the problem happen to be those closer to the solution,” he said, pointing to comic book superhero origin stories, like Spider-Man’s radioactive spider bite and the destruction of Superman’s home planet.
“Every superhero goes through something,” Wilson says. “When you go through something, you’re either going to use your power for good or use your power for bad.”
Common Experiences
Many Urban Alchemy staffers share origin stories with the people they serve. That common ground often creates trust that traditional systems struggle to establish.
“A lot of Black men nowadays, we’re ‘justice impacted’” through their own arrest or incarceration or a loved one’s, Wilson says. “Our father, our brother, someone in your family might experience that. Whether you want to say it or not, it impacted you in some kind of way.”
Rather than focusing solely on past mistakes, Urban Alchemy encourages a focus on purpose.
“This isn’t a second-chance organization,” Wilson said. “I’m just living in my purpose.”
That philosophy extends to the people in Urban Alchemy facilities who are experiencing homelessness. Staff refer to residents as guests and strive for excellent service.
“We want to give them a five-star treatment,” he said. “We believe in first and foremost, you have to know the story.”
‘Believe in Yourself’
The work has reshaped Wilson’s own understanding of people behind bars.
“What has surprised me is there are so many gifted, so many talented Black men and Brown men in prison,” he said. “They just need an opportunity.”
Wilson, a graduate of Grambling State University, said he encountered extraordinary intelligence while incarcerated.
“There were so many brothers back there that I learned had much higher EQ than I could ever imagine,” he said. “So many brothers that are so much more intelligent, read so many more books, understood the Bible so much better than I did.”
For parents raising children in neighborhoods where trauma is common, Wilson offers simple but powerful advice. Trust your heart as much as your mind, don’t allow life’s daily frustrations to dictate major decisions, and that something as simple as breathing can interrupt cycles of trauma and poor decision-making.
“Believe in yourself,” he said. “Don’t let anyone or anything take you away from your light. You’re so much more to the world.”
For Wilson, Urban Alchemy’s mission is not merely about employment, housing or public safety. It is about restoring dignity and helping people transform hardship into purpose.
“We understand the vision,” he said. “We’re going to change the world.”
At offering time in many churches, one is likely to hear that God loves a cheerful giver. A new national study of faith-based believers suggests that joy exists when the offering plate comes around, but when it comes to consistent, long-term giving, there is a significant gap between what many believers’ intentions are and what they actually do.
Researchers with the faith-based giving platform Givelify found that while 95% of Christian donors surveyed said they aspire to give consistently, only about 30% currently meet that standard. Yet despite economic uncertainty, most Christians remain generous, optimistic, and want to support their church financially.
The data, released today, are part of Givelify’s latest research on faith-based generosity and giving behavior. Researchers say the study could help churches better understand donor motivations while potentially unlocking billions of dollars in additional support for congregations and community ministries.
Financial Challenges
“What we’re seeing here is that it’s the consistency that is not matching the aspirations of people,” said Wale Mafolasire, founder and chief executive officer of Givelify. “The intention is there, but when we look at what the data shows, only 30% of the people are actually doing what they intend to do.”
It’s also critical information for the Black church, which has historically played expanded roles in addressing food insecurity, housing instability, economic hardship, education, and community development. At the same time, shrinking membership and changing attitudes toward tithing among younger members pose ongoing financial challenges for Black churches.
The study surveyed nearly 2,000 Christian donors and almost 900 church leaders, including pastors, associate pastors, and financial administrators. According to researchers, the sample included strong representation from Black churches and Black donors, reflecting Givelify’s extensive presence in African American congregations.
What we’re seeing here is that it’s the consistency that is not matching the aspirations of people. The intention is there, but … only 30% of the people are actually doing what they intend to do.
Wale Mafolasire, Givelify founder and chief executive officer
Despite economic uncertainty, inflation, and other financial pressures, researchers found reasons for optimism.
Generosity ‘Alive and Well’
Researchers estimate that even modest improvements in giving consistency could generate up to $30 billion in additional annual giving nationwide, translating to roughly $50,000 more per church each year. Despite inflation and economic uncertainty, 57% of churches reported increased year-over-year giving, and most church leaders expect endorsing to continue growing in 2026.
Meanwhile, giving behavior is increasingly becoming digital: 81% of donors now use online or mobile platforms, making generosity more immediate, habitual and integrated into daily life.
“Generosity is alive and well,” Mafolasire said. “Pastors are optimistic about it, churchgoers are optimistic about it, looking into the future.”
When congregants tithe or set up automatic offerings, churches have greater financial stability and can plan outreach or food ministries with greater confidence. The more consistently a congregation can translate offerings into resources, the greater its capacity to serve its community.
Consistency Defined
One of the study’s most significant contributions is the specific definition of a “consistent giver.”
Rather than focusing on tithing or automatic recurring donations, researchers define consistent giving as contributing at least once per month for at least nine months of a calendar year.
“We’re introducing a new definition for consistent giving so that everybody can be on the same page,” Mafolasire said. “We’re defining that as giving one or more times a month, or most months in a year.”
The nine-month threshold emerged from donor responses rather than researchers’ assumptions, according to David King, Indiana University’s Lake Institute on Faith and Giving, who helped lead the project.
“It wasn’t something that we had preconceived and came in there with,” King said. “The clear definition sort of bubbled up from what the data was saying back to us.”
‘Life Happens’
Researchers said donors wanted room for life’s disruptions without losing their identity as faithful givers.
“Life happens,” Mafolasire said. “The identity of someone who has been doing this thing consistently—they do not want to lose that identity because life happened one or more times in a year.”
The study also revealed a disconnect between church leaders and donor behavior. While actual consistency rates averaged about 30%, pastors estimated that roughly 54% of their congregations were giving consistently.
Researchers attributed some of that gap to pastoral optimism and, in some cases, limited visibility into members’ giving patterns.
Automatic or Intentional
“Pastors tend to be very, very optimistic individuals,” Mafolasire said. “The nature of the calling asks pastors to be hopeful and optimistic no matter what’s going on.”
Another surprise involved recurring electronic giving. Many church leaders associate recurring donations with faithful stewardship and consistent support. Yet researchers found that automatic giving alone does not guarantee consistency.
“We saw that pastors equated consistent giving to automatic recurring giving,” Mafolasire said. “The data shows us that even with recurring givers, the rate of consistency is still 30%.”
Only about 17% of surveyed donors said they preferred a “set it and forget it” approach through automatic recurring gifts.
“The vast majority of the people that the survey tried to understand their perspective on said they want to be intentional about their giving,” Mafolasire said.
Giving is Good
Researchers identified four distinct donor profiles that they believe can help churches tailor stewardship efforts more effectively.
The largest segment, called “steady givers,” represented about 27% of donors. These individuals give consistently and are satisfied with their current level of giving. They also tended to have the highest incomes and educational attainment.
Another group, “awakening givers,” made up approximately 21% of respondents. These donors aspire to consistent giving but have not yet established regular habits, often citing financial constraints.
Researchers also identified “devoted givers,” who not only give consistently but actively seek additional opportunities to contribute their time, talent and financial resources.
“We find that their level of spirituality tends to be at the highest of all four groups,” Mafolasire said.
King believes churches should focus less on pressure and more on encouragement. He said research points to the importance of helping people connect generosity with faith formation rather than obligation.
“Giving is not only good for the church and the church’s budget,” King said. “It’s good for the giver.”
