Last Saturday I had the extraordinary experience of singing for two hours in a church basement with more than a hundred people, nearly all of whom I did not know. We had no music to read and were accompanied by only a single hand drum, and yet we layered multiple lines of beautiful harmony. With no soloists, the space welcomed every unique voice, and every voice had a part to sing. We closely followed the director, but more importantly we listened deeply to one another and leaned in trusting the power of our collective chorus. At NCCADP I often talk about amplifying voices, especially impacted voices. In this season of gratitude, I’m reflecting on some of those voices in our movement in 2025.
I’m grateful for the voices of three men who, combined, spent 56 years wrongfully convicted on NC’s death row: Henry McCollum, Edward Chapman, and Alfred Rivera. On August 16th they shared their stories of struggle and resilience at an NCCADP gathering to mark 19 years since the last execution in our state. This was the first time all three men were together since they were confined on death row. Henry, Ed, and Alfred provide the steady drumbeat of our movement’s song.
I’m grateful for the voices of our Survivor Family Engagement Group (SFEG) composed of those who have lost loved ones to homicide, including execution, and death row family members. This year they moved hundreds of North Carolinians with their testimonies at NCCADP events, and they always said ‘yes’ when asked to speak with a reporter. But, I will never forget when six of them used their voices to passionately speak against HB 307 in a meeting with a member of Governor Stein’s staff on October 2nd. Each offered their unique experience, and collectively they conveyed the unified, powerful message that the resumption of executions and addition of brutal methods keeps no one safe. When we learned that the governor had signed the bill into law, their voices encouraged me with words of hope saying, “We won’t give up. We are in it to win. Let’s stay strong!” These voices lead the melody of our movement’s song.
This year I’m also grateful for the voices of our now 25 member organizations who engage as strong partners and offer leadership at critical moments. They are joined by volunteers, interns, faith leaders, legislative allies, national partners, our board of directors, and so many more, who all add harmony to our song. With a small team of just Liv and myself, these voices rise up when we need to take a breath as well.
There are also voices in our movement who are less often heard but their leadership is no less important. This fall we began to convene a monthly strategic working group to guide our short-term and longer-term goals to end the death penalty forever. This group includes impacted people, but also seasoned capital defense attorneys and justice leaders from North Carolina and beyond. Our movement song would be incomplete without them.
And indeed we are still writing this song together. I’m grateful for the voices who are nearly hoarse from decades of activism and those who are just this season finding their voice to join this work. Maybe that’s you. Maybe with all the struggle surrounding us, your voice is barely audible even to your own ears. However and whenever you show up, you are a member of this chorus too.
Despite the horrific number of executions in our country this year and passage of HB 307 into law, my resolve is restored and my spirit is sustained by the collective voices of our movement. Thank you for singing your part alongside all of us.
