On December 9, 2024, Robert Brooks was beaten to death by corrections officers at Marcy Correctional Facility in New York State. He was restrained, compliant, and handcuffed, yet he was punched and kicked repeatedly until he could no longer move. The next day, he was dead. The footage from body cameras shows what anyone familiar with prison life already knows—violence in these institutions isn’t an anomaly; it’s part of the system.
This tragedy is part of a long history of abuse in New York prisons, one that disproportionately targets Black and indigenous people of color. Robert Brooks’s death echoes the case of Samuel Harrell, who died at Fishkill Correctional Facility on April 21, 2015 following a violent encounter with corrections officers. Although Harrell’s death was officially ruled a homicide, conflicting medical evidence and the absence of video documentation shielded the officers from prosecution. These cases reveal the systemic violence and lack of accountability that define the culture of incarceration, leaving vulnerable individuals without justice. A System Built on Hypocrisy The prison systems across this country claim to be about justice, accountability, and rehabilitation, but where is the justice when officers act as judge, jury, and executioner behind closed doors? How can accountability exist when abuse is normalized and complaints are routinely ignored? From the moment you step inside, you learn quickly that officers rule by force, and anyone who dares to challenge that authority faces swift and brutal retaliation. I’ve seen it firsthand. As a 17-year-old locked up at Rikers Island, I’ve experienced and witnessed beatings that left people broken—physically and mentally. During my nine years in the state correctional system, I saw the violence at a more ruthless level. Additionally, as an inmate grievance representative, I’ve read story after story about assaults in the Special Housing Unit (SHU) while at Gouverneur and Fishkill correctional facilities. These complaints were rarely taken seriously or lead to excessive retaliation. Without the public’s eye, abuse thrives, and the silence of those in power only deepens the problem. The Role of Race in Prison Violence Let’s not ignore the racial dynamics at play. Robert Brooks was a Black man. Samuel Harrell was a Black man. The officers involved in their deaths? Predominantly white. This is not a coincidence. Black people make up about 15% of New York’s population but represent nearly half of its prison population. This isn’t just about violence; it’s about a system that devalues the lives of prisoners, especially the Black lives. In facilities like Bedford Hills, Black women face similar patterns of abuse. Whether it’s physical, verbal, or psychological, the underlying message is the same: their humanity doesn’t matter. The racial bias within these walls mirrors the broader inequities outside of them, perpetuating a cycle of oppression. Body Cameras: A Partial Solution Body cameras have pulled back the curtain on some of this abuse, but they’re far from a perfect fix. In Brooks’s case, the footage shows what happened but lacks audio because the cameras weren’t fully activated. This conveniently leaves gaps in accountability. Without comprehensive recordings, officers can still operate with relative impunity. The fact that it takes body cameras to expose these atrocities speaks volumes about the system’s priorities. It’s not about protecting the people in custody; it’s about shielding the institution from scrutiny. A Call for Accountability Beyond Reform Let me be clear: I don’t believe prisons can be fixed. They aren’t designed to rehabilitate; they exist to punish and control. But even within this inherently violent system, people shouldn’t be abused, beaten or killed. The sentence was the punishment, and that should be enough. Anything beyond that is state-sanctioned abuse, plain and simple. We must hold the officers involved in Brooks’s death accountable—not just fire them but prosecute them. This is about confronting the culture of violence that jails, prisons, and institutions of confinement breed. The public needs to care. Without outside pressure, these stories will keep repeating themselves, buried behind walls designed to silence the truth. This Event is More Than Just Another Tragedy The deaths of Robert Brooks and Samuel Harrell are not isolated incidents; they’re symptoms of a system that thrives on violence and dehumanization. We can’t just shrug these tragedies off as rare events. Every person who enters a prison deserves to serve their time without being subjected to abuse. If you’re skeptical, ask someone who’s been inside. Ask them about the “routine” assaults, the lack of accountability, and the way complaints vanish into thin air. The culture of prisons isn’t broken—it’s functioning exactly as intended. And that’s the problem. Isaac I. Scott is Five-time Change Agent Award winner, Multimedia Visual Artist, Journalist, and Independent Consultant.
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EDITOR IN CHIEFISAAC I. SCOTT, Archives
January 2025
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