Black women in America are subjected to domestic violence at a much higher rate than other women. And while many condemn the tragedy of some high-profile, individual cases, fewer seem willing to acknowledge the depth and breadth of the problem. According to the Institute for Women’s Policy Research, “more than four in ten Black women experience physical violence from an intimate partner, “and they are more likely to experience psychological abuse such as “humiliation, insults, name-calling, and coercive control — than do women overall.” Their report cited data showing “more than 20 percent of Black women are raped during their lifetimes,” a rate much higher than that of women of other racial groups. They are 2.5 times more likely to be killed by an intimate partner than white women. Given this information that points to a pervasive problem, it may strike some as odd that many show little empathy for Black women who are victims of domestic violence.
Stereotypes that portray Black women as too loud, angry, argumentative, promiscuous, lazy, and dishonest are often used to justify the high rate of intimate partner violence they experience. For instance, after Tory Lanez shot an unarmed Black woman, the rapper Megan Thee Stallion, in the summer of 2020, many publicly speculated that she brought it upon herself. “Black women victims are perceived to be more culpable and receive less empathy than White women.” The Jezebel, as well as the Strong Black Woman stereotypes, dampen the empathetic response some would otherwise have for victims of domestic violence (Brundidge, 2025). Given that our society does not see African American women as victims in the same way as White women, they are placed in “a more imminent position of danger because they often have to overcome the extra hurdle of proving they’re not at fault,” according to Lisa M. Martinson’s report on domestic violence victims’ use of resources in Wisconsin.
Moya Bailey, the scholar who coined the term misogynoir, explained that Black women encounter not simply racism or misogyny but “the unique synergistic force of these two oppressions amalgamating into something more harmful than its parts.” Consider, for instance, that while Black women are more likely to endure intimate partner violence, many do not seek help (Anyika, 2015). This may seem contradictory at first, until you consider the intersectional experience of Black women. Nash (2005) explained that racism against African American men forces them “to live in a socially, politically, and economically precarious existence, that is to some degree, beyond their control.” As a result, Onna, one of the participants cited in a qualitative study, noted, “such problems warranted Black women’s defense of Black men.” Indiana State Rep. Vanessa Summers suggested that “African American men are more apt to go to the criminal justice system, and we don’t want to send them, even,” she added, “if they shot us in the head.”
Far too many Black women have been harmed or killed by intimate partner violence. Stories of Black femicide have appeared in the headlines like a steady drumbeat. For instance, reports suggest that Imani Dia Smith, a 26-year-old Black woman known for her role as a child actor in “The Lion King,” on Broadway, was fatally stabbed by her boyfriend, Jordan D. Jackson-Small, the father of her child, in Edison, New Jersey, on December 21st of last year. He had a previous case of aggravated assault in December 2023, and neighbors suggest this wasn’t the first time the police were called to settle a domestic dispute between the two. The Middlesex County Prosecutor’s office charged him with first-degree murder and second-degree endangering the welfare of a child, since their 3-year-old was present at the time of the attack, and unlawful possession of a weapon. Mourning the loss, her aunt said, “Imani had her whole life ahead of her,” adding that she was “a vivacious, loving, and fiercely talented person.”
Reports suggest Gladys Johnson-Ball, a 22-year-old Black woman, was 5 months pregnant when her ex-boyfriend, Cameron Washington, killed her in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, on January 5th. Police officers found her unresponsive in her mother’s home. Authorities ruled her death a homicide and claimed her 3-year-old may have witnessed what happened to her. They arrested her ex-boyfriend and charged him with two counts of first-degree reckless homicide, one for the death of Gladys and the other for her unborn child. Police believe he attempted to hide signs of asphyxia and bruising by setting her body on fire hours after her death. “Why would you take her life like that, and you knowing she was having a baby by you?” her mother asked rhetorically to reporters from Fox6 News. “If a person don’t want to be with you, just walk away.”
On February 11th, Raven Amuan Edwards, a 34-year-old Black woman, a devoted mother of three children, was fatally shot by an ex-boyfriend, Stephon Marquis Jeter, in Washington, D.C., near her apartment complex. Her 10-year-old daughter, Royal, was struck in the arm but survived. The father of their 3-year-old child initially took them after the shooting, but he was later found safe in Maryland. After fleeing police officers, Stephon crashed his truck in D.C. and died from what officials “believe was a self-inflicted gunshot wound.” Family members noted there was a history of domestic violence within their relationship, and he had made threats in the past. Her mother explained, “he was sending her text messages telling her he wished she’d die, he hoped she dies.”
A maintenance worker found the body of Daneshia Heller, a 30-year-old Black woman and mother of three, in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, on February 17th. An autopsy revealed she died from a gunshot wound to the head. Authorities arrested Altavious Powell, whom they believe lured Daneshia into an empty apartment building and killed her. Video footage shows “Powell and Heller walk inside the apartment, but she never left.” Officials claim they have footage of him dragging a heavy object, presumably her body, toward the dumpster. According to his child’s mother, he confessed to shooting Daneshia and another woman in text messages. Officials charged Altavious with first-degree premeditated murder, as well as attempted first-degree murder, kidnapping, and sexual battery charges related to an unnamed second woman.
On April 1st, Nancy Metayer Bowen, a 38-year-old Black woman who served as vice mayor of Coral Springs, Florida, was killed by her husband, Stephen Bowen, a 40-year-old radiologic technologist. After missing meetings, her colleagues called for police to conduct a wellness check. Bowen’s uncle later told the police he “had come to his home earlier and confessed that he killed his wife.” They arrested him and charged him with “premeditated murder and tampering with physical evidence.” Before her death, no domestic violence calls were made to their home, though they did receive calls for disputes among contractors. They were purportedly high school sweethearts. The Florida A&M University alumni community is mourning her death, as many considered her someone who’d “bring light in this world.”
A 58-year-old Black pastor, Tammy McCollum, was fatally shot in her North Carolina home on April 6th. Reports suggest her husband, Eddie McCollum, admitted to shooting her during a 911 call, and he was arrested and charged with first-degree murder. A grand jury indicted him on April 13th. On their 30th wedding anniversary in 2022, she said she felt “truly blessed and honored to have been married to this amazing man of God.” And yet, in the ultimate act of betrayal, he killed her. While he expressed remorse, her family and the community are mourning the loss of someone irreplaceable. Davion Forney, their son, said he felt a “world of emotions — just mostly trying to hold it together for family and friends.” While Joyce Phillips, a woman who worked with both of them, suggested “he really loved his wife,” and that “they loved each other,” the violence she endured raises questions about how much anyone can know about the inner workings of a relationship.
On April 10th, Ashanti Allen, a 23-year-old pregnant Black woman, was declared missing. Sadly, authorities found her body near Chimney Rock Park in the southwest part of Houston, Texas. Surveillance video reportedly showed the father of their unborn child, Kevin Faux, dragging her body to the place authorities discovered it, causing them to charge him with capital murder. According to investigators, “she had been strangled with a cord that was found wrapped around her neck and tied into two knots.” Initially, Faux found refuge in Jefferson Parish, Louisiana, staying with a woman he met online. But she became suspicious when she saw him using Ashanti’s debit cards. There was a history of domestic violence in this case. Last September, Faux went to jail after assaulting Allen. But “records indicate he received a ‘two-for-one’ credit,” that ultimately “cut his sentence in half.”
Victoria Brown Alexander, a 38-year-old Black nurse, was killed at her workplace, Excel Care Rehabilitation Facility in New Jersey, on April 13th by her estranged husband, Brandon Alexander, who reportedly ambushed her in the parking lot. He was waiting for her, according to 6 ABC News, and when she arrived, he blocked her car with his own and placed “two suicide notes on the dashboard” inside her car. When a food truck driver asked him to move his vehicle, Victoria tried to escape, but when she ran toward her workplace, he chased her and “shot her multiple times near the entrance before turning the gun on himself.” While some circulated false photos of an Asian man to suggest Victoria was in an interracial relationship, this was proven false, as Brandon was a Black man. The Atlantic County prosecutor, William Reynolds, issued a public statement, saying, “Domestic violence is not a private matter; it is a serious crime that destroys families and threatens public safety.”
Dr. Cerina Fairfax, a 49-year-old loving mother of two and dentist, was killed by her estranged husband, former Virginia Lt. Gov. Justin Fairfax, in a murder-suicide that took place in Annandale, Virginia, on April 16th. Although they separated a few years ago, they continued to live together while working through their divorce. A judge ordered him to move out before the end of the month, but this measure was too little too late in light of her death. Online, she described herself as someone who loved to “read, run trails with her energetic Vizslas, practice Bikram yoga, travel, and spend time with her wonderful family.” Along with patients and colleagues, her loved ones are mourning the loss of someone who had a positive impact on their lives and on the community. According to her attorney, Amy Spain, her death “leaves an immeasurable void in the lives of all who knew and loved her.”
In yet another tragic incident, Shamar Elkins, a 31-year-old Black man, committed an act of mass domestic violence when he shot his wife, Shaneiqua Pugh, a 34-year-old Black woman, his girlfriend, Christina Snow, a 31-year-old Black woman, seven of his own children, and one cousin on April 19th in Shreveport, Louisiana. He committed this domestic violence spree in two separate locations before law enforcement officers killed him. Elkins reportedly killed Jayla Elkins (3), Shayla Elkins (5), Braylon Snow (5), Kayla Pugh (6), Khedarrion Snow (6), Layla Pugh (7), and Sariah Snow (11), his children, and Markaydon Pugh (10), his nephew. Both of the adult women survived the shooting. While the investigation is ongoing, Chris Nesi noted in the New York Post that “Elkins’ upcoming divorce was clearly rattling his already shaky foundation.” In the past, he tried to take his own life, but with support from his wife, he sought help from the Veterans Affairs hospital. Sadly, the help he received did not stop him from causing harm.
Racism and sexism within American society have a compounded effect on Black women, one that makes people less empathetic to their experiences with intimate partner violence. Even when condemning the harm they endure, there’s often a propensity for people to defend the abuser and focus on their experiences, rather than those they’ve harmed. For instance, following the murder of Nancy Metayer Bowen, some focused on the mental health of her husband rather than his violent actions that ended her life. Independent journalist Roland Martin referred to the death of Dr. Stacey Patton as a “tragic story… but” also referred to “mental health, depression, the silent killer among especially Black men.” In Madamenoire, Dr. Stacey Patton suggested Martin made an error in centering the experiences of Justin Fairfax, rather than Dr. Cerina Fairfax, the woman he killed. She noted that some Black men responded to the tragedy by saying “they remembered him as a ‘brother,’ a ‘good man,’ and someone full of potential.” She argued that these “soft, nostalgic, and intimate” images portrayed through “visual storytelling…gently pulls the viewer away from the violence and back toward the man.”
While some claim Black men have a higher rate of mental illness, in an effort to explain away the high rate of intimate partner violence against Black women, this talking point perpetuates the notion that people diagnosed with mental illnesses are more likely to exhibit violent behavior, thereby unnecessarily stigmatizing a group of marginalized people. It’s estimated that only 3–5% of violent acts can be attributed to individuals with a serious mental illness, contrary to the belief that people with mental illness have an increased proclivity to commit violent acts. Also, “Black Americans have lower rates of depression and anxiety than Whites, despite greater exposure to stressors known to negatively impact mental health,” a phenomenon known as the Black-white mental health paradox (Lamotte et al., 2022). Scholars suggested this gap could be explained by the “protective effects of African Americans’ higher self-esteem.”
But there are also gendered differences to consider. For example, one report found that “African American men were more likely to accept discrimination as a fact of life, and African American women were more likely to get mad, pray, talk to someone, and do something about it (Sullivan et al., 2021).” Black women in college were more likely to “engage in help-seeking behavior compared to Black men (Ubesie, 2021).” So, while it’s not true that Black men have a higher rate of mental illnesses than Black women or White men, or that those diagnosed with a serious mental illness are more likely to engage in violence, they are likely to adopt the coping mechanisms that could mitigate mental health challenges.
Research suggests physical violence is a common method of demonstrating dominance and power, thereby establishing one’s masculinity (Rice et al., 2021). While masculinity in and of itself is not predictive of violent behavior, as interpersonal violence is more common in relationships where one partner is dominant, regardless of gender, men with a higher level of Masculine Gender Role Stress (MGRS) were the most likely to perpetrate intimate partner violence. They are more likely to employ violence “in situations when they perceive their masculine status to be threatened or fall below the expected norm,” authors noted, citing Moore and Stuart (2005) and Reidy et al. (2014). Racism places additional burdens on Black men and makes it harder for them to fulfill societal norms associated with masculinity. The high rate of intimate partner violence suggests Black women often bear the brunt of this discomfort caused by the social disadvantages they face. Simply framing the domestic violence that Black women endure from Black men as a sign of unchecked mental illness overlooks factors that are predictive of violent behavior.
To address the high rate of domestic violence against Black women, we have to dislodge the stereotypes that are firmly planted in American society that seek to justify the violence they often endure. We have to reaffirm empathy as a community value and separate the caricature of the Black woman in American society from the real flesh and blood women, who are deserving of protection. The expectation that they silently endure violence to preserve the reputation of Black men, or protect them from state-sanctioned violence, places Black women in a precarious position. A new societal standard must be adopted, one that no longer accepts violence as normal or makes excuses for those who cause harm. One that treats domestic violence as a health crisis, not simply a personal problem. One proactive step men can take is to include women in conversations about gender. Rice et al. (2021) suggested excluding women from conversations about gender may “reduce the potential of interventions to build men’s empathy for women who have experienced male-perpetuated violence.”
Like every other group, Black women deserve to live in homes where they feel safe, secure, and respected. They are worthy of empathy, care, and compassion. But the high rate of intimate partner violence suggests our society has failed to reckon with this. We cannot address this problem by portraying domestic violence as something that rarely occurs or by treating instances of femicide as case studies with limited implications on the general population of Black women. We have to dispel the notion that only men with a history of mental illness hurt women, as this framing overlooks how masculine gender role stress perpetuates intimate partner violence. We have to consider the ways in which American society has normalized violence against Black women and set out to challenge the social framework that perpetuates gender-based violence. Far too often, the health and well-being of Black women are dismissed as inconsequential, an unfortunate casualty in the grand scheme of things. But the only way we can make positive social change within the black community is to confront domestic violence and femicide head-on, without the stereotypical justifications or deflections, and to empathize with Black women, something that requires intentional, sustained effort.