When her boyfriend of three years proposed to Cheryl McWhorter in front of his own family, she didn’t want to embarrass him by saying no. A deeply religious person, she asked God three different times if she should marry him. “Each time, something weird happened,” she says. But she didn’t heed the warnings.
At her wedding, her friends cried “like they were at a funeral,” she remembers.
After spending most of her Las Vegas honeymoon in a hotel room by herself while her new husband gambled, Cheryl experienced domestic abuse for the first time on the Saturday after her own wedding. In front of a family member, her husband grabbed her by the hair and shook her.
Soon, she found out he had lost his job but hadn’t told her. He had also lied about his credit and hadn’t paid his rent in months.
She left him once for a few months but, like so many victims of domestic violence, she went back. Soon after her son Noah was born in fall 2004, her husband started abusing her again. In denial about being a victim, she was giving up on herself, she says, likening it to “spiritual suicide.” He would hide her phone and keys from her, so she got into the habit of having extra keys made and stashing them around the house.
Meanwhile, “I felt if I did everything perfectly, he wouldn’t have anything to be mad about,” she says.
When he would start taunting her, she would drop to her knees and pray. Usually, that would make him stop, until one day, on March 29, 2006, it didn’t work. When she fell to her knees, he pulled her back up.
Dressed only in her bathrobe and slippers, she ran to unstrap her son from his high chair and, holding him on her hip, fled out the front door while the man who had just threatened her for the last time – all 6 feet, 5 inches of him – stood there aghast. She believes the Holy Spirit froze him in his spot there in the living room.
Out on the sidewalk in front of her two-story home in Pinson, just north of Birmingham, she didn’t know where she was going. She just knew she had to get away. “I would have walked clear to (my hometown of) Montgomery,” she says.
As she rounded the corner, she saw a Jefferson County sheriff’s car. The officer recognized her as the principal from the Alabama Department of Youth Services Chalkville campus, a youth facility for girls. He accompanied her back to her home, where her husband had found his legs and escaped.
The officer stayed with her while she packed as much as she could, then he filled her car up with gas and followed her to the interstate.
“The police have not been back to my home since,” she says. Her abuser served a year in county jail, and they have since divorced.
But that long-ago day, while she was walking, holding her child close, she vowed that she was done. The words “No More” came to her mind. She would eventually record the song she wrote about her experience, with the proceeds going to victims of domestic violence.
“I honestly believe we have the responsibility to share out testimonies to encourage other people,” she says.
Happiness and heartbreak
Though she’s had a 25-year career in education – five years as an English teacher, 10 years as a school principal and the past 10 years in administration with the Alabama Department of Youth Services school district – singing has been Cheryl’s lifelong passion.
When she was seven years old, growing up in Montgomery, her father, the pastor at a small church near her home, would call her up to sing hymns like “Precious Lord” and “His Eyes on the Sparrow.” Her mother was the lead singer of an a capella group, and Cheryl learned to harmonize by singing along with her.
She lived with her close-knit family of three older siblings in a small house with one bathroom. Though they didn’t have much space, they were always taking in family members. “I love knowing my parents were like that,” she says.
Her father hadn’t finished high school, and her mother returned to college at Alabama State University at the same time Cheryl’s older sister attended. Her mom ended up getting a master’s degree in education and was a beloved teacher at Carver Elementary School. Known for being strict but loving, she occasionally brought home students who “cut up a lot.”
Cheryl’s love of singing was validated when she entered her first competition at age 14. She won on the local and state level and was accepted into the Creative and Performing Arts Center at Carver High School, which later became Booker T. Washington Magnet High. She and her best friend, Leonardo Nettles, had a friendly competition for being named the annual Most Valuable Performer – an honor she didn’t win until he graduated a year ahead of her.
During her senior year, she skipped school and drove to Tuscaloosa to audition for the Stillman College choir and was awarded second chair in the alto section. She also was offered a full scholarship to Stillman but, when her parents found out, they refused to let her go.
“It was such a heartbreaker,” she says. “But I could not force myself to go without my parents’ blessing.” Instead, she reluctantly enrolled at Alabama State, where she wanted to major in music but was strongly persuaded by her mother to switch to education.
Her friend Leonardo, who did go to Stillman, died of cancer during his sophomore year. “He was Brian McKnight before Brian McKnight came on the scene,” she says. His loss was “a devastating blow” to Cheryl.
While she was in college, her father suffered a stroke. She took a couple of years off to nurse him back to health. “I was always a daddy’s girl,” she says.
After earning her degree, she started working for the Department of Youth Services because she wanted to be “a great disciplinarian like my mom,” she says. She thought that “in order to be the best, you should be able to handle the worst kids.”
After teaching in a Montgomery public school for a few years, including serving as a girls’ volleyball coach, she accepted an offer to become principal at the youth facility for girls in Chalkville.
“The music bug was still there,” she says. She would open for local jazz artists she brought in to perform for the students. She started a show choir. “I had a ball,” she says. “We celebrated everything. I had a good time working with the girls and the faculty.”
She occasionally sang at weddings, too. Then, in 2009, she auditioned for BET’s “Sunday Best” in Atlanta. Out of more than 3,000 people, she was in the top 12. In order to continue in the competition, she would have had to take a leave of absence, which she couldn’t afford to do. Knowing that BeBe Winans thought she had talent was enough for Cheryl. “I got confirmation that I could continue as a gospel artist,” she says.
In 2016, she recorded a “jazzy, R&B-style” album, “Cheryl McWhorter: My Story, My Song,” which included “Throw Back Praise” as a tribute to her mother. She sang the song on the “Bobby Jones Gospel” show and performed at his retirement luncheon in St. Louis. He advised her to stick to traditional gospel music, which is her favorite because singing it makes her feel close to her mother, who died in 2008.
Her second album, “New Wings,” featuring all traditional gospel music, should be out in June. On Saturday, Feb. 29, Cheryl will sing at the Selma Bridge Crossing Jubilee.
No More
Cheryl’s lifelong love of singing and her songwriting ability helped to turn the humiliation of being an abused wife into something positive that’s helping others.
Gospel recording artist and educator Cheryl McWhorter Featherstone of Birmingham shares her story of surviving domestic violence so that she might help others escape from similar situations.
In 2017, she released “No More,” the song that came to her on the day she walked out on her husband at last, in an effort to raise funds for victims who want to leave their abusers. After the song came out, she started a support/prayer group on Facebook, where she shared her story, and the response was overwhelming. The group evolved into the No More Domestic Violence Awareness and Prevention organization, which is in the process of becoming a nonprofit.
For the past three years, No More has partnered with the North Alabama YWCA to create a calendar featuring 12 domestic violence victims, each glamorously photographed, telling their stories of survival. With the funds raised from the downloadable song and sales of the calendar, No More provides funds for transportation to safe houses, hotel fees and moving expenses.
The calendar serves as an inspiration for others, says Cheryl, who has been happily married to Ken Featherstone since July of 2018. “We do that because victims need to see that they can survive.”
To listen to Cheryl’s music, visit her website, www.cherylmcwhorter.com. For more information about No More, send Cheryl an email at NoMoreDVorAbuse@gmail.com.