Witness for the Prosecution

Two years ago this week, I witnessed an act of child abuse. Something that I still see at night when I close my eyes. Something I wished I'd never seen. But, as hard as it was to witness, it's even harder to accept what happened to that precious soul and countless others like her. April is Child Abuse Prevention month. We need to bring more awareness to child abuse. Learn the signs of child abuse. People need to report incidents. We need to help these children. 

I live near my school in my town. I often see my kids and their parents walking to the grocery store or convenience store on the weekends. One Saturday, I was driving home and stopped on a bridge. I looked over and saw some bright neon, shiny high tops that I recognized from school walking on the sidewalk. I knew those shoes. Those shoes belonged to a Pre-K friend. A beautiful little girl. I pointed out the shiny, neon shoes and the little girl to some people who were in my car with me. I excitedly explained that the little girl walking on the sidewalk could be one of my students next year! 

As I was watching the Pre-K friend walking down the sidewalk, I noticed she had one of those teddy bear backpacks that had a leash to hold onto a child. I didn't think it was a bad idea, they were walking next to a very busy road. Then it happened. I'll spare most of the details, but this little girl's mother kicked her in the back. Harder than I would've ever thought about kicking anything (especially a child)! It took my breath away. I cried when I got home and every time I've explained it since. I was so disturbed by what I had witnessed. 

At the time, I had a good friend who had just left her job at DFACS (department of family and children services). I spoke with her about the best route to report what I had seen. Even though I witnessed it as a regular citizen, I was told to report it through my school because of the way DFACS handled reports. If I know of an incident at school or an incident involving a student from my school, I am a "mandated reporter" which means that by law I am required to report child abuse/neglect issues.

I followed protocol and thought that DFACS would do their job. Shortly after reporting the incident to DFACS the little girl stopped coming to school. She had moved. I was worried and scared for her. 

The school year ended and I looked forward to teaching a new group of kindergarten friends. Our kids are very transient so I held out hope that this little girl would return to our school and be in my class. That hope was shattered when our school counselor informed me that the little girl had died. It was a day of post-planning and only teachers were at school working on packing up for the summer. I can still hear the cries of anger from her Pre-K teacher when she was told what had happened. I remember going to my classroom and losing it. I called my mom (also a teacher) and was barely able to get out why I was so upset. (Even as I type this tonight, tears are streaming down my face.) All I had wanted was for her to get help and get away from her abuser. I cried to my mom that it didn't do any good to report what I'd seen! It didn't save her. I was beyond inconsolable. 

As the day went on we learned more details about her death. She was beaten to death by her mother and her mother's boyfriend. I was numb. Stunned. Angered. Outraged. Devastated. That afternoon I was interviewed by the GBI. I come from a family of lawyers, watch police dramas and would love to be a detective (in another life...I'm not brave enough) but I was not prepared for being interviewed by the GBI for a case like this. 

You probably know the case. It was all over the Atlanta news stations. Her name was Heaven Woods.  Her precious school picture was on every newscast. Her story was all over social media. And every time I saw her face all of those emotions would come back. This is that precious face. A beautiful little girl who didn't have to die. 

As time passed by I spoke with the police detective assigned to investigate her death. And I also spoke with the assistant district attorney that eventually got the case. I wanted to do what I could to not let Heaven's death be in vain. 

I'm not totally blaming DFACS for what happened to that little girl. They do hold a certain amount of responsibility in my opinion. However they claim that their policies and follow-up procedures changed because of this little girl's death. It's so sad and disheartening to think that a child had to lose her life (in a horrible manner) for policies to change. I recently came across Heaven's DFACS case file online.  It contained 661 pages. It is so wrong for there to be that many pages and pages of incidents and nothing was done to protect that little girl. The page that stuck out to me through the stack of heavily redacted papers was the one with my report. 

There are inconsistencies between what I reported and what is listed here. Some of the facts are not correct. Important details were left out. No one from DFACS ever personally contacted me about what I'd seen. And they took the word of an abusive mother and a more than likely scared 4 year-old. The "active investigation" was still ongoing at the time of her death. 

This is a piece of an article that was written about Heaven's history with DFACS. 

When I learned that the prosecution was seeking the death penalty against Heaven's mother, I was eager to testify. I wanted to give Heaven a voice. I wanted to face her mother and tell her that I saw what she did to her little girl. I wanted her mother to know that people loved Heaven and that her life mattered! 

I thought I would get that opportunity when her mother's trial was set to begin this spring. I was ready. I needed to see her mother. Her mother needed to see me. I later learned that because one of the GBI investigators was facing child abuse allegations himself, that they were not going to seek the death penalty. His testimony wouldn't hold up because of some horrible decisions on his part. I was angry all over again. I didn't understand how one man's transgressions could derail a murder case...where a child was murdered. 

Ok. No death penalty. I'll be ok with that (even though I'm not really). I still was ready to testify. I was waiting on the call and was ready to drop everything and be at that trial. I waited. And waited. Until last week when my mom read in the newspaper that Heaven's mom had pleaded guilty. No trial. No standing up for Heaven. Her mother's guilty plea consists of a life sentence WITH the possibility of parole. No words. None. Speechless. Parole???? In 30 years??? That's not that long. And in my opinion is NOT justice for Heaven. 

I can distinctly remember on more than one occasion last year when her classmates would talk about her. They would say, "we had a friend in Pre-K named Heaven." And sadly they knew what had happened to her. There's not much more gut wrenching than to hear a kindergartener say, "Heaven died. Her momma beat her and killed her." I would redirect their conversations and help them remember the fun stuff the did in Pre-K with her. But my heart would break all over again. 

As I pulled into the parking lot at school the morning after finding out about the guilty plea, I couldn't bring myself to get out of the car. I was overwhelmed by so many emotions. I just cried. I sat in my car and cried. Once I had composed myself I went in and started my school day. I need an outlet for the anger and sadness that I feel right now. I need closure. And I don't know how to get it. There needs to be justice for Heaven. And for so many other children.