In 1999 my life changed dramatically when my son was shot and killed.
Dorrie was a vibrant lad with a caring heart and an undying loyalty to his friends. In fact, his death really opened my eyes to how much he was loved by the people around him. A comment by one of his friends may say it all: "He cared more for me than my dad ever did".
Until his death, my life - work, church, family - was ticking over nicely. I had raised six beautiful kids who were doing well in university, sport and other careers. When Dorrie was growing up, he was a much-appreciated pupil at school, with good reports that specifically commented on his character and his helpful attitude towards the younger children. But in his third year of college a change occurred. Life became serious. The brother of one of his friends who belonged to a gang was shot in the leg. Some time later, one of Dorries friends was shot in the chest and arm over a silly issue about a bike silly, but with grave consequences on the Manchester streets. A year later three fatal gang shootings occurred in one week, one of which took away my son. Dorrie, who had never been in trouble with the police in his life, became the centre of a police enquiry through his death.
You do not raise kids without purpose, and I am convinced that you do not lose one of your kids without purpose either. For me, my pain and my faith became a window into Manchester society. After Dorries death my house was filled with young people, parents and elderly people who lived in the neighbourhood. Some time later I met with a group of around fifteen mothers who were fearful for the lives of their children and who knew either a family member or a friend who had been a victim of gang shootings or other violent acts. Out of this, Mothers Against Violence was born.
The deepest desire of Mothers Against Violence is to put something back into the community. Young people learn from adults. I want to know why, when they grow up, the gangs have such an attraction despite all the violence. I have learned a lot from listening. A gang is their family. There is oneness, acceptance, agreement, and togetherness in a gang, and often it is the only format of being listened to and being heard.
The Gangstop march that took place in Manchester in June 2002 was the result of a rising up within the community to aim for change. This was not an isolated event; it was the beginning of something new. When Gandhi marched in India for independence, when the mothers of Argentina marched for their missing sons, something happened in the course of history - suddenly, the world sat up. My involvement with Mothers Against Violence has brought me before a number of great men. Tony Lloyd, MP for Manchester, arranged a meeting with Prime Minister Tony Blair. We were listened to. We talked about moral values, about the social exclusion of young black men and children, about family matters.
In Mothers Against Violence we come alongside grieving parents and parents who are concerned that their children will be caught up in gangs. We aim to go into schools and break the taboo about gangs and violence. We need to talk, and, much more importantly, we need to listen.
I am still not really used to the idea that my son is not here. He is still so much part of our lives. But the loss we feel in our family has given me a great compassion for young men. I am interested in what moves them and what they think.