海角大神

鈥楾hat鈥檚 the warrior spirit.鈥� Why Valerie Castile is determined to honor her son.

Valerie Castile is a mother of the movement. She was thrust into that role after the July 6, 2016, killing of her son, Philando, by Jeronimo Yanez of the St. Anthony police department.

Like Sybrina Fulton, the mother of Trayvon Martin, and U.S. Rep. Lucy McBath, the mother of Jordan Davis, Ms. Castile has since used her personal tragedy as a platform for advocacy and policy change.

Ms. Castile founded the Philando Castile Relief Foundation, not just in the spirit of her son鈥檚 sense of philanthropy, but as a policy-shifting mechanism in Minneapolis and across the country that can be described in three words: Feed the children.

Mr. Castile had a reputation of making sure no child was hungry under his purview. The standard he set during his time at J.J. Hill Montessori School was maximized statewide through his posthumous foundation. Ms. Castile鈥檚 donations toward removing student lunch debt 鈥� clocking in at more than $200,000 鈥� inspired Minnesota to become the fourth state to pass a free breakfast and lunch program at all public schools in 2023. Other efforts include a memorial scholarship and holiday giveaways.

鈥淲hatever I do, I have the community in mind. I want my people treated with the same respect and dignity that you give other people,鈥� says Ms. Castile. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 the warrior spirit, and it鈥檚 embedded in all of us. But there are certain things that may happen to you in life to bring that spirit forward.鈥�

That sense of reflection has grown into a series of memorials and reminders, one of which is the Philando Castile Peace Garden, adorned with African Adinkra symbols, at the site of his death. On July 6, there was a Restoration Day and candlelight vigil. It will be followed by a community cookout on July 7, on what is called Unity Day.

鈥淭he garden is a place of self-reflection and to come to your own conclusions about your life and what you can do to improve the community,鈥� she says.

鈥淚 wanted my son to have a chance鈥�

In a room in her home full of mementos of her son, she talks about a nickname that suggests her sense of leadership predated her son鈥檚 death.

鈥淢y mother called me 鈥榁alerie.鈥� 鈥� But my father called me 鈥楥aptain,鈥欌�� Ms. Castile says, surrounded by paintings and proclamations in a place she says is 鈥淧hil鈥檚 Room.鈥� 鈥淗e called me that because I had a lot of friends [growing up] and they would come to the house with me. He called them my 鈥榮curvy crew.鈥欌��

She laughs and smiles wide at the memory of her father. It is a smile similar to Philando鈥檚, despite her insistence that her son looks like his dad 鈥渄own to his teeth.鈥� It is also a grin that belies her hard upbringing in St. Louis.

鈥淢y parents were living in what they called Cochran [Gardens] in downtown St. Louis. It was a project. 鈥� We grew up in poverty,鈥� she says as she straightens her back. 鈥淓verything was brick. Even the playgrounds were brick. No such thing as dirt and grass.鈥�

鈥淓very project was concrete. They just threw down concrete and stacked Negroes on top of themselves.鈥�

As one of six children, Ms. Castile鈥檚 sense of community and family was forged out of necessity. She and her family lived on the 11th floor.

鈥淭he [project] only went up to 11. Mind you, there were two elevators, and they were always broken. If they weren鈥檛 broke, they stunk,鈥� she says with a laugh. 鈥淲hen my mom went to the grocery store, we had a system. ... One of us would have to walk from the first to the third floor, then hand the bags to someone going from the third to the sixth floor. Someone would eventually come down to nine and take them up to the 11th.鈥�

Ms. Castile鈥檚 father moved to Minnesota in the late 1960s, and whenever she visited him, she noticed a dramatic shift in the way of life. Minneapolis represented something different, and she vowed that whenever she had children, they would live there. She became pregnant at 26.

鈥淚 wanted my son to have a chance. 鈥� I wanted to have a fresh start,鈥� she says. 鈥淏ecause in order for you to change your life, you have to change your environment. You have to change the people that you hang out with, regardless of who they are. You have to transition yourself.鈥�

鈥淗e鈥檚 a miracle baby鈥�

Philando Divall Castile was born July 16, 1983, his name a reminder of the relationship between mother and son. 鈥淧hil鈥� is a root of the Greek word 鈥減hilia,鈥� meaning friendship and affection.

鈥淔rom the very beginning, he was a surprise. He鈥檚 a miracle baby,鈥� Ms. Castile said. 鈥淏ack before I got pregnant, I would go to the clinic, and they said I couldn鈥檛 have kids. For me to get pregnant, I thought that was special within itself.鈥�

His birth changed everything for the Castiles. Mom got a job 鈥� two jobs 鈥� to make sure her son had everything he needed. Her daughter and Phil鈥檚 sister, Allysza, was born almost a decade later. And then, Phil wanted what so many kids wanted in 1996.

A pair of Jordans.

鈥淚 said, 鈥業 can鈥檛 afford those shoes! Because when you get done wearing them, you can鈥檛 eat 鈥檈m. You need a job,鈥欌�� she recalls. 鈥淚 went to downtown Saint Paul and signed the paperwork [for him to work] right there at Selby Avenue.鈥�

His first job? Helping to repaint and repair discarded bikes for kids. It was the start of a lifetime of service to children, plus a few odd jobs here and there.

Selby is a somber spot now. According to Ms. Castile, the building that housed Philando鈥檚 first place of employment now features a mural of people killed by police.

Eight colorful bells lay in a corner in Philando鈥檚 room, one for each letter of his name. In 2022, kindergarten students at J.J. Hill Montessori School, where he worked as a cafeteria supervisor and mentor, were the stars of a video called 鈥�.鈥�

Protection and healing are a common theme in this room. There鈥檚 a shiny green amulet that Ms. Castile wears as part of her necklace. It matches the tattoo on her right shoulder: the Eye of Horus, an ancient Egyptian symbol that represents well-being and protection.

鈥淚 know how to fight鈥�

July 6. It鈥檚 always a tough date for Ms. Castile and her family. In recent years, they have partnered with Falcon Heights to honor Philando on the 6th and 7th.

And even though it鈥檚 been almost a decade since Philando鈥檚 death, one question remains 鈥� a question that has fueled Ms. Castile鈥檚 鈥渨arrior spirit.鈥�

鈥淗ow can a simple traffic stop go from zero to a murder? How could that happen?鈥� she says.

Mr. Yanez, then , pulled Mr. Castile over on the pretense of a broken taillight near the Minnesota State Fairgrounds, Mr. Yanez said later. Mr. Castile, who had a permit to legally carry a firearm, disclosed he had a gun in the car. Within seconds, Mr. Yanez shot him several times in front of Mr. Castile鈥檚 girlfriend and her 4-year-old daughter.

A year later, Mr. Yanez was acquitted of manslaughter and charges of recklessly discharging a weapon. Protests erupted across the Twin Cities.

鈥淭he easiest thing that I could have done would have been nothing,鈥� says Ms. Castile. 鈥淏ut hell no. I know how to fight. I鈥檓 gonna fight you the way you fight others 鈥� with knowledge, with respect, with integrity.鈥�

She and the foundation made national news in 2019 after Ms. Castile made an $8,000 at Robbinsdale Cooper High School to clear students鈥� lunch debt. The foundation鈥檚 work ultimately led to Gov. Tim Walz signing the Free School Meals for Kids bill in 2023, but not before the Castile name was heard on the Minnesota State Capitol floor.

鈥淗e was known as the lunch man, or Mr. Phil, at J.J. Hill. He knew every student鈥檚 name and he never let any of his kids go hungry,鈥� state Sen. Clare Oumou Verbeten in March 2023.

鈥淚 knew they would pass that bill after her speech,鈥� Ms. Castile says. 鈥淪he shamed them. We shamed them.鈥�

Ms. Castile describes her crusade as a journey. She has met with the actor Kerry Washington, the late civil rights icon John Lewis, and others. She also mentions the singer Alicia Keys, whose 鈥淕iants鈥� exhibit is currently on display at the Minneapolis Institute of Art. Phil鈥檚 room was there once as well, so to speak, in a 2018 exhibit called 鈥�.鈥�

Her Phil is resting in Calvary Cemetery in St. Louis now, alongside giants including Dred Scott. The Supreme Court decision that bears Scott鈥檚 name was also a miscarriage of justice. But Ms. Castile remains undeterred.

鈥淚 know what my destiny is now. God has revealed that to me,鈥� she says. 鈥淗e has given me an assignment and a mission, and I鈥檓 just playing follow the leader.鈥�