A Mother’s Promise: How Wanda Cooper-Jones Turned Grief Into Change After Ahmaud Arbery’s Murder

In 2020, Ms. Wanda Cooper-Jones made a promise no mother should ever have to make — a vow to fight for justice for her son, no matter how long or how painful the road ahead would be. Her youngest, Ahmaud Arbery, was only 25 when he was murdered for being a Black man jogging in a suburban Georgia neighborhood.

Even with a cell phone recording of the murder taking place, it would be months before anyone was even arrested. It wasn’t until 2022 that those three men would be sentenced to life in prison, plus an extra 20 years, for killing Arbery, with a federal appeals court upholding their hate-crime convictions in November 2025.

In those early days after Cooper-Jones laid her son to rest, she had to try to piece together the truth of what happened. She had no way of knowing then that, once the truth came to light, her grief would transform into a mission. A mission for “Maud.” A public movement for change.

Five years later, Cooper-Jones is still fighting: Not only for her son, but for the right of every young Black boy to run freely without fear. Through the Ahmaud Arbery Foundation, she has built safe spaces centered on community, mental wellness, and belonging.

This year, as an honoree in Adidas’ Honoring Black Excellence initiative and a feature voice in their Community Archives zine, she’s continuing to tell Arbery’s story in service of the next generation.

The sportswear brand entered Cooper-Jones’ life in the aftermath of her son’s murder, and has become a major contributor to the Ahmaud Arbery Foundation — sponsoring the foundation’s annual community run every February, and giving out $75,000 in scholarships to young men from Arbery’s high school.

I had the privilege of speaking to Cooper-Jones, and in our conversation, she spoke vulnerably and openly about turning her pain into purpose, the power of community, and the legacy her son left behind.

Scary Mommy: You’ve spoken about the promise you made to Ahmaud — to get justice for him, no matter how hard the journey was. What does that promise mean to you now?

Ms. Wanda Cooper-Jones: It means that we really, truly got justice for Ahmaud... at the state trials, and also the federal trials. The three men responsible for taking Ahmaud away from us, they're now doing life sentences and will not be free again.

I want to add that when we laid Ahmaud to rest, we were thinking that we were laying his body to rest because he went in someone's home and was committing a crime. We didn't know that Ahmaud had been chased and hunted and killed. So I really regret putting him away, apologizing for not being there when he needed me to be there.

SM: Does seeing a federal appeals court uphold the hate crime convictions bring closure, or is justice something that feels more like an ongoing commitment?

WCJ: Justice is an ongoing commitment because we got justice in the judicial system, but Ahmaud is never coming home again. And I'm faced with that each and every day.

SM: The Ahmaud Arbery Foundation is rooted in creating safe spaces for young Black boys to run freely. When did it first become clear to you that this mission was something you were being called to do?

WCJ: Shortly after Ahmaud was killed, we had some changes in legislation here in the state of Georgia, where they repealed the citizens' arrest law. Also, Governor Kemp gave us the Hate Crime Law. When those two things happened, I wanted to make change in the community, not just in laws, but in the community that we live.

SM: You’re teaching boys about physical and mental wellness. Why was it important to you that mental health be part of this foundation’s work?

WCJ: When I lost Ahmaud, he was having some mental challenges. To go through that episode of our lives, I was a single mom just trying to figure it out. And I wanted, in the name of Ahmaud, for any child that is going through some mental challenges, I want to be that safe place for them.

SM: A mother’s love is powerful, but a mother’s grief is indescribable. What has motherhood taught you about strength in the years since losing Ahmaud?

WCJ: In the very beginning, I had several dark days because it was 74 days before we even got an arrest. Just staying strong. I read my Bible, I meditate ... also, I didn't do it alone. I did it with the whole community, not just in the state of Georgia, but all around the world. So my advice to any mom who goes through this is to just remain strong, pray, and trust God.

SM: Has it been a source of comfort in a way for you, hearing from other moms who have been through something similar?

WCJ: Yes, ma'am. Every May since 2021, I've been attending the Trayvon Martin Foundation Circle of Mothers retreat, where all of the mothers come together. And unfortunately, we share the same pain. I’ve actually gained a lot of sisters there. We text, we call, and it's just a little community among us.

SM: Community has been such a driving force in your work. What has community given you in moments when you felt like giving up?

WCJ: In May of 2020, when the video first came out, I was overwhelmed, but I had people not just in Brunswick, but all across the state of Georgia, all across the world who would call, who would text me and send me messages on social media, just letting me know that I wasn't alone and they were going to fight and scream justice for Ahmaud as well as myself.

SM: For families who feel marginalized or unheard, what advice would you give them about advocating for justice?

WCJ: You got to use your voice. In the beginning, I wasn't very vocal because I thought I had to be perfect to tell my story. What I would tell other moms is to tell your story — and only you can tell your story, no one else. Tell it, mean it, and walk it.

SM: Your journey has already inspired countless Black parents, activists, and young leaders. How do you stay connected to your own sense of purpose while carrying the weight of such a large legacy?

WCJ: It is, but I see a therapist twice a month. I've been doing that for the last four years. In the beginning, I was taking those sessions really light, but when I go now, I give my all in it. And when you put in the work, you get changes. In the beginning, I wasn't putting in the work, but now I am. And I'm better. I think I'm better.

SM: When you think back to Ahmaud — your “Quez” — what’s one thing you want the world to never forget about your son?

WCJ: That Ahmaud Arbery wasn't just an African-American young man who was running through a community. Ahmaud was a young man having some mental challenges, and he was using running as a sense of therapy.

Ahmaud was my baby boy. He has two older siblings. He's a grandson, he's an uncle, and Ahmaud Arbery had people who really, really loved him. To take his life away was, I mean, it was just brutal.

The main thing I want to take away is change. We got some changes here in the legislation in Georgia, but not only that, I want when they hear Ahmaud Arbery, they reference him as change.

This interview has been edited lightly for length and clarity.