By Shamecca Brown-Granite State News Collaborative
I read an article today, and I had to sit with it for a minute.
It was titled “Police Social Work: Building a Different Crisis Response in New Hampshire”, by Carlota de Almeida of the N.H. Center for Justice & Equity.
When I read the sentence that begins, “When someone calls 911 because a loved one is experiencing a mental health crisis, has nowhere to sleep, is struggling with substance use, or is living alone with dementia…” they weren't just words. I saw my life.
I’ve been the person making the calls. I’ve been the person advocating, supporting, sitting beside families while they’re trying to figure out what the hell happens next. I’ve worked with people experiencing domestic violence, mental health struggles, housing instability, substance use and crisis.
And then life decided to put me on the other side of the table. I lost my husband. Now I’m a single parent, living on one income with a hell of a lot of bills, trying to keep a household moving while carrying grief that doesn’t give a damn about the due date on the electric bill.
So when I read this article, I realized: I am all of the above. I am the woman who has needed help. I am the woman who has advocated for others. I am the woman who has sat in rooms making sure somebody’s voice was actually heard. And I am the woman who now understands what it feels like to navigate systems while your own life is falling apart.
That’s why this conversation about police social work and crisis response matters to me. Because not every crisis needs a badge – sometimes somebody needs a social worker. Sometimes they need a mental health professional. Sometimes they need a peer. Sometimes they need an advocate. And sometimes they just need another human being who knows how to sit down, listen and not make them feel like a problem that needs to be removed.
Who is at the table?
But there’s another part of this conversation I’m not willing to leave out: Representation matters.
As a Black woman, I want to see more people of color in these positions, not because being Black automatically makes somebody an expert. But lived experience matters. Culture matters. Trust matters. Perspective matters.
When you’ve had to navigate systems that weren’t always built with people who look like you in mind, you bring a perspective that cannot be learned from a textbook.
Let me be clear, I’m not saying every person of color understands every other person of color. I’m saying we deserve to be in the room helping build the solutions, because I know what it means to advocate for somebody else while fighting battles in my own damn life.
I know what it means to support people through crisis and then go home and have your own crisis waiting at the door. I know what it means to grieve and still have responsibilities. Bills still need to be paid. Kids still need you. Life still expects you to get your ass up in the morning.
This work isn’t theoretical to me. I’ve lived it and advocated through it and supported people through it. Now I’m experiencing pieces of it personally that I never expected.
So yes, let’s build a different crisis response. But while we’re building it, let’s ask: Who is at the table? Whose voice is being heard? Whose experience is being valued?
Because sometimes the person who understands the crisis best is the person who has had to survive one themselves. Maybe lived experience isn’t something we should hide behind our résumé. Maybe it belongs on it.
And maybe it’s time somebody asks, “Who is Shamecca?” Because I’ve got a hell of a lot more to say.
Shamecca Brown is a New Hampshire-based columnist who is family-oriented and passionate about serving underserved communities. These articles are being shared by partners in the Granite State News Collaborative. For more information, visit collaborativenh.org.