Renee Nicole Good identified by mother as woman fatally shot by ICE a!

For him, this isn’t politics. It’s absence.

The neighborhood where Renee lived has been forced to relive the moment again and again. Residents describe the shock of hearing gunshots in a place that usually held dog walkers and evening joggers. They talk about the flashing lights that lingered long after the scene was secured, about the feeling that something fragile had been torn open and left exposed. People who didn’t know Renee personally still feel the weight of her death because it happened so close, so suddenly, so publicly.

Local leaders urge calm while investigations unfold. Federal agencies promise reviews. Statements are issued, carefully worded, legally precise. Each one seems to widen the gap between procedure and humanity.

What gets lost is how small the margins were. How quickly an encounter escalated. How little room there was for de-escalation, for hesitation, for grace. In those seconds, power and vulnerability collided, and only one side survived.

Renee’s mother says her daughter would have hated being reduced to a statistic. She would have hated being spoken about only in terms of how she died. Renee believed that people were more than their worst moments, more than their final ones. She believed that context mattered, that stories mattered, that listening mattered. Continue reading…