By Carla B. Monteiro
Special to the Reporter
The inequities in our mental health system can follow individuals into the criminal legal system. For Black women, who already face glaring disparities in mental-health diagnosis and treatment, the consequences can be particularly profound.
Take the case of Latarsha Sanders, a mother of four from Brockton who was found guilty of murdering her two young sons and is currently serving a double life-sentence without the possibility of parole. Her case raises serious questions of equity in the justice system, particularly following the trial of Lindsey Clancy, who killed her three children and claimed insanity in a proceeding that ended in a mistrial last month.
In February 2018, Sanders’s two younger sons— Edson “Marlon” Brito (8) and La’Son Brito (5)— were found dead in their beds by the police. The young boys had been stabbed by their mother days earlier. A candle was found wedged in La’Son’s throat. Sanders told authorities that the stabbings were a component of a “voodoo ritual.”
In the days before the killings, family members described significant changes in Sanders’s behavior and appearance. Her breathing was abnormal, her eyes appeared dark, and her clothing was disheveled. She had slapped her mother, attacked her sister, and expressed that she needed to protect her two younger children from her mother and sister. She also made comments about fearing the “Illuminati and voodoo.”
On the day the killngs were discovered, Sanders told first-responders that people were “trying to kill” her. She was diagnosed with anxiety and stress at a local hospital, where the emergency department doctor concluded that she was not experiencing psychosis. She was administered a dose of Ativan (lorazepam), a benzodiazepine, and was discharged to police custody hours later. This was despite her statements to police about “someone following her” and to EMTs that two people were “trying to kill” her.
Although these statements alone cannot establish that she was experiencing psychosis, they raise questions about whether her reported paranoia and other behavioral changes warranted a more comprehensive psychiatric evaluation.
The National Institute of Mental Health defines psychosis as “a collection of symptoms that affect the mind, where there has been some loss of contact with reality. During an episode of psychosis, a person’s thoughts and perceptions are disrupted, and they may have difficulty recognizing what is real and what is not.”
A data analysis by Black Health highlighted that, in 2024, about 54 percent of Black adults in Massachusetts who sought assistance for mental health needs reported finding difficulty in accessing treatment. Black women are at high risk of experiencing anxiety and depression and are less likely than white women to receive an accurate diagnosis, referrals, and access to treatment. Only 12 percent of Black women who experience symptoms of mental illness seek help, which prolongs and exacerbates symptoms.
I have personal experience with symptoms related to anxiety. Years ago, I presented to local clinics and hospitals thinking I was dealing with shortness of breath. I reported that I had not been able to eat or sleep for days. Each time, they sent me home without resources, and once a provider told me to “just take deep breaths.”
It took years for me to seek help, and even longer to receive a proper evaluation and diagnosis of anxiety. I wasn’t diagnosed until my 30s, by which point my symptoms had worsened significantly, and I developed agoraphobia, which is an intense fear of and avoidance of certain places and situations. I did not leave my house.
My experience was very different from Sanders. Still, it showed me how easily symptoms can go unrecognized when someone does not yet have a diagnosis or an established connection to mental-health care.
I couldn’t help but wonder how long Sanders had been struggling with her mental illness. Did she, or those around her, recognize that her changing behavior might be related to mental illness? Did she receive referrals for psychiatric evaluation, care coordination, or other services? Was there any follow-up?
I also think about how often others, including healthcare providers, may have overlooked, minimized, or dismissed her symptoms and experiences due to their own biases and assumptions related to her race.
Her medical records were initially excluded from her original trial. In August, the state’s Supreme Judicial Court ordered a new trial be held because Lartarsha’s medical history was not included in her first trial.
After her arrest, she was diagnosed with paranoia and schizophrenia. Medical providers stated that she was experiencing severe mental illness, marked by paranoia, auditory hallucinations, and fixed delusional beliefs when she took the lives of her two sons. Experts also indicated that hyperthyroidism and a vitamin D deficiency might have been possible factors related to her psychosis.
Black women’s mental health is frequently marginalized in discussions surrounding violent crimes. They often do not receive the same level of compassion and support afforded to White women. Latarsha Sanders’s story should push us to ask what happens when those inequities follow Black women from the mental-health system into the courtroom and whether we recognize their suffering only after tragedy occurs.
Carla B. Monteiro, a Dorchester resident, is a licensed independent clinical social worker, and a licensed alcohol and drug counselor.
