WASHINGTON, DC – On Mother’s Day 2025, Black mothers, fathers, and family policing opponents from across the U.S. gathered once again for the fourth annual Black Mothers March on the White House.
The Black Mothers March (BMM) was established in 2021 when the African National Women’s Organization (ANWO) and Operation Stop CPS teamed up to connect parents isolated by the parasitic child welfare system and the organizers who are fighting the same system. Since then, the BMM coalition steering committee has expanded to include other groups and individuals on the frontline of this issue.
With the support of our endorsers, this year we raised more funds than ever before, making it possible for the BMM to sponsor impacted Black mothers who had the deepest desire to participate but lacked the means. Their presence, along with the powerful activities and events, made this year’s march the most impactful yet.
The roots of African family separation and building power
The BMM on the White House was born out of the need to expose and challenge the parasitic legacy of family separation in the United States—a system rooted in the legacy of slavery, where African families were torn apart for profit. Today, that legacy continues through Child Protective Services (CPS) and other state agencies that disproportionately target Black mothers, removing children under the guise of “neglect” while ignoring the systemic conditions created by colonialism.
Since its inception, the BMM has stood as a defiant, annual protest against this modern-day kidnapping, bringing together impacted families, organizers, and allies to demand an end to family separation and the eradication of the family policing system.
The BMM has also become a political force, garnering national attention and building a network of resistance led by those who have been directly affected. Each year, the march has grown in participation, visibility, and impact, providing a platform for mothers and children whose stories are often silenced by the state.
The march is a movement-building tool that centers African women and calls for abolition of the system of family separation. From teach-ins and political education to street theatre and direct action, the BMM confronts colonialism—the mode of production responsible for the destruction of the Black family—and asserts a future where African families are whole, self-determined, and free. It is a call to action to protect Black families and affirm the right of Black mothers to raise their children free from state violence.
Teach-in and the birth of Stolen Children’s Month
Starting with a teach-in on Saturday, May 10th, organizers shared incredible resources. During the sessions, a political overview was provided followed by workshops where we learned about efforts being made across the country to oppose family policing.
Additionally, the first annual Stolen Children’s Month was announced. It is a concept developed by impacted mother Ashley Albert who, along with other organizers, will launch campaigns and actions throughout the month of June. Stolen Children’s Month will be “a time to uplift the voices of stolen children and their families, and to shift the narrative towards ending family separation by abolishing systems of family policing, youth incarceration, and immigrant detention and deportation.” It will culminate on June 26 with collective vigils being held throughout the United States. Find out more at StolenChildrensMonth.com.
Black love rooted in resistance
Every year, the BMM includes an art component to connect emotional truths with political struggle. This year was no different. We partnered with the MJCF Coalition and the One DC Black Workers and Wellness Center to host the Black Love Rooted in Resistance art exhibit showing the impact of family policing.
This year we focused on “love letters,” which are a collection of heartfelt letters from family members separated by the family policing system—written by parents to children adopted through the child welfare system or by children disconnected from their families by the government.
The centerpiece of the exhibit was a gown with a massive train made of handwritten love letters—messages from parents to children stolen by the child welfare system and vice versa. Inspired by the historical legacy of Black families posting newspaper ads after emancipation to find loved ones lost during slavery, this art installation connected past and present forms of state-sanctioned separation.
Volunteers contributed their time, family photos, artwork, and craft. The dress is now set to tour the country, gathering more letters with the vision of creating a skirt that stretches for miles—visually capturing the scale of trauma inflicted by family policing.
On the evening of May 10th, the BMM partnered with Harriet’s Wildest Dream to hold a sneaker ball for families impacted by family policing and to support Black women’s work of the National Black Mamas Bailout. It was a time to have fun, rejuvenate, eat, dance, and celebrate one another in advance of the march the following day.
Rallying for our children
As early as nine o’clock, organizers and participants arrived at Lafayette Square preparing to march as if they were going to war. The sun was shining, the weather was beautiful—perfect for a stroll on the Mall, a visit to a museum, or a Mother’s Day brunch. But for many African mothers, there was no joy to be found—not while their children remain hostages of the colonial state.
The march started with a rally featuring statements from the African National Women’s Organization, Operation Stop CPS, Harriet’s Wildest Dream, and Philly Voices for Change. Longtime revolutionary 81-year-old Reverend Annie Chambers was given the Legacy Award for dedicating her life to the defense of Black children and families in Baltimore.
On the periphery of the rally, Black women dressed as the Handmaid character dotted the park holding signs that said, “This is not fiction. It’s the reality for thousands of Black mothers in the U.S.” Referencing The Handmaid’s Tale, the action reframed the dystopian narrative, reminding onlookers that the reality depicted in the story has long existed for Black women in this country—our children stolen, our bodies controlled, our lives criminalized.
This visual, coupled with Black women chanting, “Fist up, fight back, we’re here to take our kids back,” in the background was powerful.
Marching with determination
By the time the march began, the temperature had risen. It was hot. But the people were ready. They laced up their sneakers, rolled out in wheelchairs, grabbed their water bottles, pulled wagons filled with small children, and prepared their strollers for the two-mile route ahead. It would take ninety minutes to complete, but no one was deterred.
Leading the march were three young drummers who had practiced for weeks to perfect rhythms that would complement the chants. This is their third year at the march.
As we moved past monuments, tourists, and families enjoying lunch, the drums announced our presence. First, you heard the beat—then came the sight: masses of Black women and children, fists raised, voices strong and powerfully present.
We paused at the African American History Museum, where just a week prior, demonstrators had gathered in defense of the institution against attacks from the Trump administration. There, the Handmaids ripped off their robes in protest. Mashai Small, president of the local branch of ANWO and an impacted mother, staged an impromptu die-in, embodying the grief and rage that Black mothers whose children have been kidnapped often feel.
When we concluded at the front of the White House, back at Lafayette Square, the participants were tired and hot, but still amped up and ready to continue the fight wherever they were headed next.
More than a protest: A revolutionary strategy
The BMM is not just another protest. It is a converging point for revolutionaries, parents, organizers, and everyday people who recognize that family policing is a colonial weapon of war.
We are building a movement that cuts to the root of the system. And we’re gaining strength each year.
To end family policing, we MUST destroy the colonial mode of production. In our lifetime.
And we will.
Uhuru!
