Remembering Latasha Harlins: Why we must #SayHerName

The bottle of orange juice that Latasha Harlins intended to purchase on the morning of March 16, 1991 was worth $1.79. Within minutes of entering the Empire Liquor store in South-Central Los Angeles, Latasha was shot dead with $2 balled up in her hand.

She was 15 years old.

Latasha Harlins (Credit: Wikimedia Commons)

July 14 would have been Latasha’s 45th birthday. And even though she was taken from this earth mere months before I entered it, I feel an innate connection to her. As if I could have known her myself. Or, I could have been the one in that convenience store had I been her age at that time in that neighborhood.

Soon Ja Du, the store owner who shot and killed Latasha, was convicted of voluntary manslaughter. The jury in her case recommended the maximum sentence of 16 years in prison. Instead, Judge Joyce Karlin sentenced Du to 400 hours of community service and five years of probation.

It is difficult to ignore the painful parallels in the deaths of Latasha Harlins and Trayvon Martin. Both lives were ended by gunfire. The perpetrators in both Latasha’s and Trayvon’s cases served no prison time. And both were unarmed black children who did not get to live long enough to celebrate high school graduation.

As Brenda Stevenson wrote in The Contested Murder of Latasha Harlins: Justice, Gender, and the Origins of the LA Riots: “Latasha’s clothes, her age, and the color of her skin made her, in Du’s estimation, an ‘other’ who was not to be trusted, but who was to be feared.”

Stevenson’s observation isn’t conjecture. A study conducted by the American Psychological Association found that black children are more likely to be perceived as “much older and less innocent” than their white counterparts.

Building on the APA study, a report released by Georgetown Law in 2014 examined attitudes around black girls in particular. The study found that survey participants believed black girls “need less nurturing, less protection, less support and are more independent” compared to white girls in the same age group.

In the wake of George Floyd’s death, many white Americans have an elevated sense of awareness related to the dehumanization of black boys and men. And while this allyship is much needed, it’s time that we also address the devastating psychosocial impacts of the dehumanization of black girls and women.

We must #SayHerName, too, in order to achieve true equality and justice for all marginalized communities.

A protester holds a sign in remembrance of George Floyd.

And this advocacy cannot be limited to showing up for black women’s lives after they have already been taken. There are racial and gender-based inequities throughout the criminal justice system.

Stevenson writes: “African American females make up the majority of female prison populations in all but 11 of the 50 states. In 15 states, the population of black women in prison outnumbers whites from 10 to 35 times.”

These structural biases often extend to the education system as well. In May, a 15 year-old black girl in Michigan was incarcerated for “violating her probation by not completing her online coursework when the school district switched to remote learning.” The girl, who lives in a predominantly white community, suffers from ADHD and was told that it was in her best interest to stay in juvenile detention.

This preconceived criminalization based on race, socioeconomic status, and gender is what ultimately led to the death of Latasha. And almost 30 years after her death, I’m left pondering this question: What would Latasha’s life be like today had she been given a chance to live?

For me, perhaps the most resonant quote from Stevenson’s book reflects on Latasha’s humanity:

“A girl at heart, with the body of a young woman and an edgy attitude, she was a complex blend of naiveté and maturity, strength and vulnerability, celebration, anger, and heartbreak all wrapped up in a facade of quiet street savvy.”

As we continue to fight for social justice in the names of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Trayvon Martin, Sandra Bland, and many other black lives lost too soon, I hope we never forget Latasha.