This is another installment in Birmingham Times/AL.com/CBS42 joint series “Beyond the Violence.” This project is grant- and donor-supported. Contribute to support the project here.
A young man at the UAB Hospital recently told a violence prevention specialist that he wanted to learn how to be a better man.
With help from a new program, he now is receiving resources after being shot by a family member. The Hospital-linked Violence Intervention Program connects with Alabama gunshot victims when they are most vulnerable – and tries to help survivors figure out how to resolve future conflict without shooting or being shot again.
Since the program started in May, 32 referrals have entered the program. And, importantly, everyone has stuck with the program, according to Carmone Owens, who leads the program on behalf of the Offender Alumni Association.
“We’ve been blessed that every single referral we have received has enrolled and stayed in the program. It’s an indicator of how committed the team and our clients are.”
There have been 123 confirmed homicides in Birmingham, so far this year. As of Nov. 28, there have been 2,020 recorded aggravated assaults in 2023. Of these, 1,291 assaults were made with a firearm, according to data from the Birmingham Police Department. The West Precinct, which includes Ensley and Pratt City and is Birmingham’s biggest precinct, recorded more than a third of these firearm assaults.
Gunshot survivors often have lifelong physical and mental scars. If released from the hospital without support and resources, experts say, some may be tempted to retaliate or solve future conflict with more violence. Intervening at the hospital, the Birmingham coalition hopes, will help stop the cycle.
“This is one of many solutions that are needed to address the totality of firearm injury we are seeing. For some of the patients, we can intervene and work with them to get the resources they need to help them break the cycle of violence. It’s going to be very impactful for those individuals. That’s worth the effort, for sure,” said Dr. Jeffrey Kerby, a trauma surgeon and director of UAB’s acute care surgery division.
The program involves doctors, consenting patients and violence intervention specialists trained by the Offender Alumni Association, many of whom have survived gun violence and now use their experiences to set clients on the right path.
The program helps participants get therapy, psychiatry, earn their GED, find safe housing or start a new job. Services depend on what each individual needs to have a happy and successful life, supporters say.
Members of the Offenders Alumni Association stand in their new building, a community center for members and participants. Starting on the top left is Violence Intervention Supervisor Carmone Owens, Administrative Director Toni Barnett, Program Director Dena Dickerson and Executive Director and Co-Founder Deborah Daniels. Alaina Bookman/AL.com
Bryn Manzella, Jefferson County director of quality improvement, worked to get the hospital intervention program off the ground after a survey by the local Department of Health identified gun violence as a key concern for residents.
“These are lives that are valuable. Often these folks have been on paths that aren’t great,” Manzella said. “So, our goal is to help people live satisfying, meaningful, productive lives.”
Dr. Rochelle Dicker, a surgeon who chairs the Health Alliance for Violence Intervention, said the program’s use of credible messengers from the Offender Alumni Association is important.
“It’s absolutely essential that trust is built within hospitals. The best way to build trust is through mentorship and through common ground,” Dicker said. “Because there’s been so many generations of mistrust in the medical system, if they see somebody from their own neighborhood that has cultural humility, who really understands it, trust can be built.”
In Birmingham, specialists drive program participants to work and doctor’s appointments, buy groceries or simply listen to them vent. On some occasions, they take clients to sports games or grab a hamburger to connect in a non-stressful environment.
“It allows us to check their temperature to update, to fellowship, to encourage, to reinforce, to be supportive and all of the other things that we do because it’s not like dragging them to the appointment. We have a relationship with them, so they’re happy to go, you know. It’s like riding with a friend to the doctor,” Owens said.
The association doesn’t want to bombard participants with lectures about nonviolence or a checklist of tasks, but wants to simply let them know they have a support system they can lean on throughout their recovery.
“When we ask people to change [the behaviors] that caused them to get shot, it’s a scary, lonely process. For some of them this means disengaging with everybody they know and latching on to the violence intervention specialists,” Owens said. “They’re dependent on us, in a way.”
The program’s clientele come from various backgrounds, but all have one thing in common: the desire to recover. Success looks different for each situation. Of the 32 clients the program has worked with so far, violence specialists have relocated seven people. Almost a third of their clients are women and three people are under the age of 20. Five people have returned to work.
Owens said many clients were shot by family members.
One young man was shot by his sister, at the request of their mother, during an altercation.
One client was shot by their cousin at their grandmother’s house. Another client was shot by their cousin at a Chuck E. Cheese children’s birthday party. One young woman was shot by her sister’s boyfriend.
In another case, the team emergency relocated a woman twice because she did not feel far enough removed from the perpetrator, who shot her seven times after finding her hiding in a closet.
Owens said the woman was cooperative with the program but began to withdraw when she found out the perpetrator was released from jail on bail.
“So him making bail, particularly as fast as he made bail, really frightened her and disheartened her about the system. When we have people pull back like that, that’s where we work with the support network. That’s where we’re engaging with the family,” Owens said. “Because those are the people that keep us connected to what’s going on and help bring the patient back.”
In another emergency case, association members relocated a client because he did not feel safe returning to his old neighborhood, fearful he would be shot again.
He was relocated to a relative’s home, 50 miles outside of Birmingham. Though he was in a safer environment, being away from his home made him feel isolated and lonely.
Violence specialists drove him around his old neighborhood where they would talk and vent, reminding him that he had resources and support, Owens said.
Recently, the team received a referral for a 16-year-old who had been shot, the youngest participant yet.
How the program works
To participate in the program, UAB hospital must gain consent from the patient to alert the association of their interest in the program. The violence intervention specialists then visit the patients at their bedside.
Participants must be aged 16-49. They must also be Jefferson County residents.
Intense care management is given to participants for up to a year, but members of the Offender Alumni Association say their doors are always open for those in need.
“Part of our core mission is the continuum of care. So by having the relationship and knowing what the issues really are, we can make sure that they get what they need,” Owens said.
