Meet Dr. Sharrelle Barber: The Social Epidemiologist Who Met Afro-Brazilian Activist Marielle Franco On The Day Of Her Assassination

 
Dr. Sharrelle Barber (left) with the late Afro-Brazilian activist and human rights defender, Marielle Franco (right) at Casa das Pretas on March 14, 2018, the night Franco was murdered. Photo via Drexel University Website.

Dr. Sharrelle Barber (left) with the late Afro-Brazilian activist and human rights defender, Marielle Franco (right) at Casa das Pretas on March 14, 2018, the night Franco was murdered. Photo via Drexel University Website.

By Jaimee A. Swift

Scholar-activist and filmmaker Dr. Sharrelle Barber (she/her) attended the event in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil where Afro-Brazilian activist and human rights defender, Marielle Franco, spoke at hours before she was murdered. It was a night that truly would change Barber’s life and forever commit her to not only sharing Franco’s story but also to catalyzing transnational, Black feminist solidarities.


On March 14th, 2018, Dr. Sharrelle Barber walked into Casa das Pretas (Black Women’s House), a community space for Black women from the favelas, located on Rua dos Inválidos, a bustling street located in the heart of Rio de Janeiro's Lapa district. Having been referred by a friend and a Brazilian feminist sociologist to attend the event, “Jovens Negras Movendo as Estruturas” (Young Black Women Moving Structures) to meet Marielle Franco, an Afro-Brazilian activist who was one of the panelists at the event, little did Barber know that night would change her life forever. 

Marielle Franco (July 27, 1979–March 14, 2018) was an Afro-Brazilian politician, human rights defender, and sociologist born in the Maré favela of Rio de Janeiro. A proud Black bisexual feminist and activist, Franco was known for her unabashed commitment and advocacy for and to Brazil's most marginalized communities––including LGBTQ+ persons, the Black community, and religious minorities. Franco was elected the city councilor of Rio, as a member of The Socialism and Liberty Party (PSOL), with 46,502 votes. Moreover, she was a candid critic of state-sanctioned violence that disproportionately impacts Brazil's Black and poor communities, who she so diligently worked for. After losing a friend to a stray bullet from a shoot-out between police officers and drug traffickers in Maré, Franco sought to challenge and dismantle state violence. Her master’s thesis in public administration at the Fluminense Federal University (UFF) titled, “UPP, the Reduction of the Favela to Three Letters: An Analysis of Public Security Policy in the State of Rio de Janeiro”, was about the punitive atrocities committed by the state and the militarization of its agents. 

Prior to her death, she took to social media to speak out against police violence that resulted in the deaths of three young Black men in Rio, who too like Marielle, were from the favelas. On March 14, 2018, after speaking at the “Jovens Negras Movendo as Estruturas” panel, Franco was assassinated while sitting in the back of a car, with four bullets to her head. Her driver, Anderson Pedro Gomes, was also murdered. Her death sparked international global solidarity under the social media hashtag, #MariellePresente. Her life and legacy inspired countless Black Brazilian women to run for political office during Brazil's national elections in 2018.

Before Marielle was murdered, at the event she evoked Caribbean-American lesbian feminist, activist, and poet, Audre Lorde by stating, “Não sou livre enquanto outra mulher for prisioneira, mesmo que as correntes dela sejam diferentes das minhas.” She would look directly at Dr. Sharrelle Barber, a social epidemiologist from Goldsboro, North Carolina and said Lorde’s quote to her in English, “I am not free while any woman is unfree, even when her shackles are very different from my own.” Here, it would be Franco’s quoting of Lorde, her activism, her untimely death, and her spirit and legacy that would compel Barber to not only share her experience of meeting Franco but to also boldly proclaim what Franco meant to Black women in Brazil and around the world. 

An assistant research professor at Drexel University who examines the role of structural racism in shaping health and racial/ethnic health inequalities in the Black community with a particular focus on the Southern United States and Brazil, Barber would co-direct, along with fellow co-director, Amber Delgado, “I, A Black Woman Resists”, a Free Southern Media short documentary film bearing witness to the life and legacy of Marielle Franco. With the film, she has traveled to countless venues and spoken to hundreds of people about the beauty, the strength, and the spirit that was and is Marielle Franco. Two years after Franco’s death, Barber is still as committed to telling others about how Franco has and continues to guide her work and impact her life. 

Dr. Barber spoke with Black Women Radicals about her scholarship and work as a social epidemiologist; the moment she met Marielle Franco; the critical importance of transnational Black feminist solidarities; and what a Black Woman Radical means to her.


You are a scholar in epidemiology and in biostatistics. How did you get your start in those fields? 

Sharrelle Barber (SB): “This is great because I have been reflecting about this a lot. So, I identify as a social epidemiologist. In defining that, it is someone who thinks about population health within a social context. For me, this discipline made sense because I was always interested in health but also interested in social justice. The field allowed me to explore the intersections between structural racism and health inequities among Black people, with a particular focus in the South. I specifically look at how racial residential segregation and concentrated disadvantage really shape the health outcomes of Black folks; whether it is limited access to healthy foods, exposure to violence but violence in a very broad sense, for example, state-sanctioned violence and the over-policing of communities. I also think about disinvestment that has happened in neighborhoods over time and what impact that has on people’s health. As a social epidemiologist, that is what I am interested in. My central work has been in Jackson, Mississippi but I also look at how this manifests in Brazil.” 

“It all really started when I entered my master’s program at UNC Chapel Hill and I was paired with a group that had linked me to two Black women activists in eastern North Carolina, who were in their sixties and they were really advocating for justice in their communities for decades. They really modeled for me the strength in local communities to bring about change. As I was thinking about these broad conceptual factors that influence health, side-by-side with the strength of people like Miss Mary and Miss Naima Muhammad, who were advocating and organizing locally to bring about change in their community. That was my introduction to public health and social justice through observing with these women both the devastating disinvestment that happened in these communities and its impact on health but also seeing the power they wielded in their communities.” 


How does your work translate to Brazil? What led you to Rio de Janeiro, Casa das Pretas, and to meet Marielle Franco on March 14th, 2018? 

SB: “It is a roundabout story but life is like that sometimes! I will say that I was first in Brazil as an undergraduate student. I went to Bennett College, a college for women, which is very central to my formation both as a person who was deeply committed to scholarship but also as a person who was deeply committed to purpose. Bennett is a place where we were trained but we were also told we should find our purpose. Part of my being at Bennett, I was a part of a delegation that went to Brazil when I was a sophomore in college. That was my introduction to Brazil, going to the World Social Forum, where young adults from all over the world were there to think about social justice issues in their local contexts. We also were brought together to think about how we can think about this from a global perspective. That was also my introduction to the fact that Brazil has the largest Black population in the Diaspora. When I land in Brazil and see folks who look like me who could be relatives, it was shocking. I later found out that this was an attempt to white-wash Brazil. The perspective of what the outside world gets of Brazil is that it is mostly white or mixed-race but they try to suppress the Blackness of Brazil. It is hard to suppress when half of your population is Black!” 

“Fast forward to 2015 to 2016, I was already doing work on segregation and health in the context of Jackson, Mississippi. At Drexel University, where I am a professor, there was a colleague from Brazil who was visiting at the time and she told me about a study where they had data that looks at where people live and their different health outcomes, which was something I was already doing. I jumped at the opportunity because having the knowledge of Brazil and its legacy of slavery and racism, I was interested in how can we show in Brazil similar patterns in terms of place, racism, and health in that context? I went there really to do empirical research but fortunately was linked to a multidisciplinary group of scholars including a sociologist, who had been in the feminist movement in Brazil and knew some of the local organizers. So when I went in 2018 to visit, she was actually the one who said, ‘If you are really trying to get a deeper understanding of racism in Brazil and how it operates and what it looks like, there is this event happening at Casa das Pretas on March 14th organized by Marielle Franco.’ She described her as this really powerful local politician and told me I needed to meet her.”

That is why I know the collective power of Black women can transcend time, transcend place, and it even can transcend language. If we were ever able to break those barriers down, how powerful could we be as a force?

“The event was a part of the ‘21 Days Against Racism’ campaign that was happening and the event was called, ‘Young Black Women Moving Structures.’ As a social epidemiologist, not only do I care about the numbers and the data, I also care about centering and supporting the narratives of those who are on the frontlines. I really wanted to go, learn, and listen as much as possible and to be able to introduce myself to Marielle and learn more about her work. That is how I, in a roundabout way, ended up at the event on March 14th. For me, because my work had mostly been in the university among white scholars in public health, this was the first fully Black space I was in––my first fully Black women’s space. I felt so much at home when I entered that space because it was so familiar. The energy of just going up the stairs was so familiar. The energy of Black women lining the walls was so familiar. I had written before that I saw those images of Black women who I didn’t know but I harken to what I do know and that is the Sojourner’s, the Harriet’s, the Fannie Lou’s, the Ella’s, and the Ida B’s. That same energy was the same energy I felt when I walked up the stairs and when I walked into the room where everyone was. We sat there for at least 30 to 45 minutes before Marielle even got there but during that time, I was able to interact with a few women, which was also very powerful. It was all just really powerful. The way they embraced me when they found out I couldn’t speak much Portuguese and they were like, ‘Oh, you are not from here!’ [Laughs]. The way the Black women there embraced me, welcomed me, and made sure I was home, which I already felt because the energy there was just that powerful.” 

When Marielle came in, there is this lighting of the room that I cannot describe, I just felt it. I had never met her personally before but when she came in, everyone lights up.

“That is how I ended up there and being at the event. For me, it was a spiritual moment and I just felt by sitting there I was in a hallowed space and on hallowed ground––a sacred space. It definitely was a sacred space. That is why I know the collective power of Black women can transcend time, transcend place, and it even can transcend language. If we were ever able to break those barriers down, how powerful could we be as a force? That is exactly what I felt. Just being among sisters. Just being among the power, the beauty, and the resilience of Black women. That was the energy. That was even before Marielle came in. So when Marielle came in, there is this lighting of the room that I cannot describe, I just felt it. I had never met her personally before but when she came in, everyone lights up. And she didn’t go straight to the podium––she talked to people and she interacted and she was laughing.”

“I think sometimes we don’t even recognize how powerful these spaces are and their so many different dimensions. Yes, there are the places where we speak truth, where we talk about racism, and we talk about those things but there are also places of immense joy. When you can be together in community with one another and forget what is out in the world that tries to continue to diminish you and marginalize you, it is so powerful to be in that space just for Black women. Again, like I said, when [Marielle] came in, there were people laughing, joking, and talking, even as we were having these really hard conversations about the issues in Brazil and around racism.”

Dr. Sharrelle Barber holding a photo of Black Brazilian women protesting in honor of Marielle Franco. Photo courtesy of Dr. Sharrelle Barber.

Dr. Sharrelle Barber holding a photo of Black Brazilian women protesting in honor of Marielle Franco. Photo courtesy of Dr. Sharrelle Barber.

At Casa das Pretas, Marielle Franco evoked Audre Lorde and said, “I am not free while any woman is unfree, even when her shackles are very different from my own.” How did you feel when you heard Marielle speak to you and when you she evoked Audre Lorde? How did that give you insights to the importance of transnational, Black feminist solidarities? 

SB: “The interesting thing is those were kind of her last words because it came at the end of the event. She said it in Portuguese first but by that time it was known by everybody there that I was a Black woman from the United States and that I spoke English because I got up to say something. She then later said Lorde’s quote in English and that was a model of how you do transnational solidarity. Here I am this Black woman who is getting bits and pieces of the conversation but up until now, just there feeling the energy. For her, because I was there, and she was looking at me directly and saying it in English and to say those words, it was just an act of solidarity that was just so powerful. It made the night even more special. Like I said, I had so many other interactions with other Black women as well but for her to do that––she didn’t have to. Then I was like, how often do we do that in the U.S.?  How often do we make sure that the folks that are not from [here]––even in Black women circles––would have translated for someone who mostly spoke Portuguese? What are the ways we do that? The fact that she did that was so powerful and it was a testament to who she was. Again, the small acts that she did that night in that space were big indicators of the person she was. She was powerful, fierce, and all those things but she also had a presence about her and a way about her that brought people and drew people in.”


What did you learn from that moment and what did you take away from that moment? Not only were Marielle's last words directed to you but you were also able to meet her and commune with her before she was murdered. What did you take away from that? 

SB: “For me, those last words were part of the motivation of why I just couldn’t come back to the United States and just go on with business as usual. For me, they were almost like, “Sharelle, you were in that space for a reason.’ These narratives of people like Marielle in Brazil and other Latin American countries who have been championing Black feminist activism for years, these stories need to be told. There needs to be a reciprocity elevating the narratives of those who are not in the context of the U.S. That Audre Lorde quote became a charge and became the fuel that helped propel the urgency in creating the film, “I, A Black Woman, Resist.” After leaving the event and after literally feeling like I was on a high and being so empowered and so inspired, literally two hours later to hear that four bullets to the head to silence her voice––that shook me in a way that I have never been shook before. As fearful and scary as it was, something stood up in me. I know for the other Black women that were there, it was just like, ‘No, no, no––this isn’t just going to be kept quiet.’ We are not just going to be scared because there was so much power that night because despite the pain and  before the pain, there was power. Even after that, there will be power because of the army of Marielle’s that is literally rising up in Brazil and all around the world.”

These narratives of people like Marielle in Brazil and other Latin American countries who have been championing Black feminist activism for years, these stories need to be told. There needs to be a reciprocity elevating the narratives of those who are not in the context of the U.S.

With the seed that Marielle has planted, why do you think people should know about Marielle Franco and keep in her vision, her spirit, and her mission of creating this Black feminist revolution in Brazil and in the world?


SB: “I think that Marielle and her legacy is the antidote of what we need in the world right now. When literally and physically and in so many ways the world is on fire, there is this rise of authoritarianism in Brazil, in the United States, and all over the world and in bigotry, racism, and all those things. I think that Marielle was and the ways she did her work are central to what we really need to move forward. She wrote the essay, “After The Takeover: Mobilizing The Political Creativity of the Favelas.” And basically she says that Black women at the margins who have been most oppressed by these systems such as  state-sanctioned violence and being prohibited to participate in democracy, while they are the most oppressed they are also the most powerful and have the most creativity to mobilize against these power structures. Their work is instructive because it is specifically rooted in Black feminist activism and it centers the margins of society where most people don’t look for power, strength, or political creativity. She is very, very centered on the collective and it is not just about one person or one individual but it is about all of us collectively working together for a better world. She had a radical imagination that could view and see beyond the what is but to the what can and should be. I think it is just a powerful antidote of what we need now. Her campaign slogan was ‘Eu sou porque nós somos’ (I am because we are). That is what we need––the collective power, the collective speaking truth to power, and the collective speaking out and up against these systems of oppression and speaking out against the patriarchy and the ways in which it is ravaging our world. She had a radical imagination and she had that eloquent rage that Brittney Cooper talked about. She found the uses of her anger––not to destroy and to build but to mobilize for the world we really need to have.” 


Do you mind telling me more about the formation and the process of making the film, I, A BLACK WOMAN, RESIST? 

SB: “What I will say is––disclosure, I am not a filmmaker! [Laughs] Although, the folks I partnered with said I am a filmmaker now. At the event, I said something to the effect of wanting to take this story back with me to Philadelphia. I said those words not even knowing what was going to happen. When I came back, I was disheartened by the fact that many people that I told about what happened had no idea what was going on. They had no clue. They may have heard it on the news and may have seen it in a tweet but no one really knew. I felt the responsibility to try to find a way to share the story. Initially, I did some writing and then I saw the Transnational Solidarity Statement that Kia Lilly Caldwell, Christen A. Smith, and others had put together and I was like, ‘This is such a powerful message.’ I initially kind of reached to Kia Lilly Caldwell and asked, ‘Have you thought about any extensions of the statement you made?’ I was thinking we have to do something––we have to do a video or something! I was later connected to an independent film collective called Free Southern Media based in North Carolina. They basically said we will help you tell the story and not only will we help you tell the story but we will help you bring together a team of folks. The co-director of the film, Amber Delgado, is a Black Peruvian woman and she lived in North Carolina. I was very intent on bringing on young, Black women to help put this together because of what the night represented and what Marielle represented. Kia Caldwell’s expertise in this area, coupled with Erica Williams and Zakiya Carr-Johnson and them bringing some of their expertise because of their long-standing work in Brazil and among Black women and among Black feminists women, they really brought so much richness to the film.”

It follows the trajectory of Marielle’s life of resistance and the pain of her assassination but also what I think of as her resurrection and her resurrection happened through the Black women in Brazil who were not going to let legacy die. They are her seeds. Her legacy lives on through them because they were saying ‘Marielle Presente.

“I was really intentional about creating a Black women team to help tell this story and again, in the spirit of the collective. I felt like this was something I should not do alone. [The film] comprised some interviews from these experts and a first-hand account of me meeting Marielle, along with some biographical information about who she was. The motivation of the title actually came from pamphlets that were being handed out at night and it said, ‘I, A Black Woman, Resist’, and of course, it was in Portuguese. That name of the pamphlet embodied so much of who Marielle was and the tradition of Black feminist activism in Brazil. We used that pamphlet, which gave statistics on racism in Brazil but also a real nice portrait of Black feminists activists who have been working in Brazil for so long. We decided to really center both the power of that night of the gathering in addition to the pain. It follows the trajectory of Marielle’s life of resistance and the pain of her assassination but also what I think of as her resurrection and her resurrection happened through the Black women in Brazil who were not going to let legacy die. They are her seeds. Her legacy lives on through them because they were saying ‘Marielle Presente’ (Marielle is here). That is what we tried to do with this 25-minute documentary is to raise awareness, to raise consciousness, and to use it as a tool for transnational solidarity. I am here thinking about this process and I am almost in tears. It is just a lot to remember. It is powerful to remember.” 

What does a Black Woman Radical mean to you?

SB: “A Black Woman Radical means someone who lives her truth, who speaks her truth, and who empowers others to do the same and who sees the power in our collective work and tries to dismantle the structures that continue to oppress us. But again, she lives her truth, she speaks her truth, she empowers others to do the same, and she collectively joins together with them to dismantle the power structures that try to deny her truth. Marielle demonstrated this in how she did her work. There was this one line she said during that night: ‘I am in office and this is a good thing but this just can’t be me.’ She was so committed to the collective and I think that is more radical than just the individual. How are you committed to collective empowerment? And [Marielle] was. She really, really was.” 

Who are some Black women who inspire you and who you admire throughout history?

SB: “Yes, I will harken back to my folks in the South! Fannie Lou Hamer, oh my gosh––she was sick and tired of being sick and tired. She was a sharecropper but at 40, she found her voice, found her calling, and she did what she could, even when her life was threatened. Ella Baker, I feel the same way. Ida B. Wells used the power of the pen to write and to document the viciousness of lynching. Harriet Tubman has always been one of my favorites. Since being a little girl and for whatever reason during Black History Month, Harriet Tubman was always a go to. And lastly, Sojourner. Her teachings have always resonated with me. These are the Black women from history that have really inspired me. I will say that folks like you in the present moment and my sister, who is a phenomenal fierce Black woman. You both are women that inspire me as well.” 

You can follow Dr. Sharrelle Barber on Twitter

You can follow the film project, I, A BLACK WOMAN RESIST, on Twitter

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