Members of the Massey Commission issued a joint statement following Thursday's sentencing of Sean Grayson.
"While the judge imposed the maximum sentence allowed, the statement reflects the reality that no ruling can undo the harm caused or the trauma left behind. It also underscores that this moment cannot be treated as an ending. The work to address the failures that led to Sonya Massey’s death must continue," the commission said.
The statement:
Today, former Sangamon County deputy Sean Grayson was sentenced to 20 years in prison (the maximum for 2nd degree murder) for the killing of Sonya Massey. The defense asked for a slap on the wrist. The court rejected that minimization and chose real accountability.
When the sentence was delivered, the courtroom exhaled and there were collective sighs of relief. Not because justice had been fully served, but because, for once, the system did not look away. For once, the loss of a black woman’s life at the hands of law enforcement was not discounted, deferred, or diminished.
Still, let us be clear: this sentence does not bring Sonya Massey back. It does not erase the terror she went through in her final moments. It does not undo the lifelong trauma inflicted on her family, her loved ones, and a community forced to bear yet another unnecessary and tragic death.
“Sonya’s death will follow me for the rest of my life. It is a permanent reminder of what happens when power is exercised without humanity, when a life is treated as disposable. One heinous act shattered an entire family- and that damage does not fade with time” said Sontae Massey, Sonya Massey’s cousin.
And as Sonya’s mother, Donna Massey, concluded her statement, she ended with her daughter’s final words, “I rebuke you in the name of Jesus.”
That damage is the truth of today. Sonya Massey was not a threat. She was a human being. She was entitled to care and dignity, and instead she was met with violence by someone entrusted with authority.
This was not a failure of judgment in a split second. It was the predictable outcome of a system that too often confuses power with permission and authority with immunity. The maximum sentence is not mercy. It is the bare minimum acknowledgment that what happened was wrong, devastating, and irreversible. But justice does not stop at one courtroom, one verdict, one sentence.
If we allow this moment to stand alone, if we treat it as closure, we almost guarantee repetition. Real justice demands that we dismantle the conditions and the system that made Sonya’s killing possible: inadequate oversight, insufficient accountability, broken crisis-response systems, and a culture that too often tolerates violence instead of preventing it.
The grief in the courtroom today will not disappear tomorrow. Neither should our anger. Neither should our resolve.
The work to fix this system and to build one grounded in humanity, accountability, and care has not ended. It has only just begun. We owe Sonya Massey more than words. We owe her a transformation worthy of her life.
