Why Community-Safety? The hyphen is intentional. It joins community and safety as one interconnected idea, reflecting the belief that safety grows through people coming together. It challenges separation, division, and the silos that keep people, services, and institutions apart. Community-Safety calls us toward shared responsibility, meaningful relationships, and care for one another.
What makes a community safe? What helps a family find its way after an unimaginable loss?
Loss, Grief, and Community-Safety: A Graphic Novel from Baltimore, Circa 2015 draws on true stories from Dr. Maurice Vann’s life in Baltimore. The book features actual Baltimore places and experiences, including activities he shared with his sons. These lived experiences give its conversations about love, loss, parenting, and community safety a personal foundation.
Through the lives of Baltimore father Isaiah Carter and his two sons, readers encounter the everyday relationships that hold a family together. Isaiah is a social worker, a father, and an uncle who wants the young people he loves to thrive. His sons, sixteen-year-old Malcolm and ten-year-old Mekhi, are learning about responsibility, belonging, and their place in the world. Their cousin Jerome has returned from Job Corps with confidence and plans for the future. He wants a steady job, a home of his own, and the chance to help his mother.
The story begins with familiar moments of family life: affectionate teasing, encouragement before a job interview, and a lesson in tying a tie. Then Jerome is killed on his way home from work. A telephone call after midnight leaves Isaiah struggling to absorb the news and help his sons understand a loss that makes no sense.
Malcolm responds with anger and urgent questions. Mekhi turns toward memories, drawings, and quiet reflection. Isaiah discovers that helping others professionally does not shield him from his own grief. Together, they begin to learn how to speak honestly, accept support, and stay close when none of them has the answers.
Set against the events surrounding Freddie Gray’s death in 2015, the family’s experience opens a larger conversation about justice, policing, and public trust. As demonstrations, the National Guard, and a curfew reshape their surroundings, the Carters question what protection means. Their search for answers invites readers to consider how public decisions affect whether people feel secure, supported, and valued.
Through counseling, mentoring, community gardening, food programs, and a welcoming space for children, the family finds ways to carry Jerome’s memory into everyday life. Grounded in real Baltimore settings and experiences from Dr. Vann’s life with his sons, the book explores how Community-Safety depends on housing, education, health care, opportunity, and dependable relationships. Grief remains present, even as moments of connection and purpose begin to emerge.
The story also introduces Rousseau’s social contract and utilitarianism through accessible conversations about shared responsibility, public decisions, and the common good. Who should help decide how neighborhood resources are used? How can communities weigh competing needs? What responsibilities belong to residents, and what must public institutions provide?
A dedication, a note for readers, a character introduction, four guided discussion sections, and an educational appendix extend these conversations beyond the story. Families, educators, mentors, and community organizations can explore the questions aloud, in writing, through drawings, or through shared activities. Readers are invited to sit together, remember the people they love, and talk about the kind of neighborhood they want to share.
At its heart, Loss, Grief, and Community-Safety is rooted in true stories about love, remembrance, and the work of caring for one another. It honors the strengths within Baltimore’s neighborhoods while calling attention to the sustained resources and institutional commitments they deserve. The book invites readers to imagine communities where children can grow, families can find support, and everyone has a meaningful opportunity to belong.
