Focusing on the lives and deaths of Trayvon Martin and Kalief Browder

Two upcoming TV events feature the parents of two young men who died under very different but tragic circumstances–Trayvon Martin and Kalief Browder.

This weekend on Book TV (C-SPAN2, February 25 and 26), Trayvon Martin’s parents, Sabrina Fulton and Tracy Martin, discuss their new book, Rest in Power: The Enduring Life od Trayvon. 

The interviewer is black journalist Wesley Lowery whose book (The Can’t Kill Us All, Little, Brown and Company 2016) chronicles the aftermath of the deaths of black men at the hands of police in Ferguson, Baltimore and other cities.

George Zimmerman, a volunteer neighborhood watchman shot 17-year old Trayvon as he walked home from a local store (with candy and a soda) on the evening of February 26, 2012, in Sandford, Florida. Since that horrific night, his parents have moved to the forefront of the criminal justice reform movement. Sybrina is one of five black mothers referred to as “The Mothers of the Movement.”

KALIEF BROWDER

Next week, Rap mogul Jay-Z debuts Time: The Kalief Browder Story about the brief, harrowing life of the Bronx teenage, who committed suicide in 2015. The six-part docu-series airs on Spike TV on Wednesday, March 1, at 10:00 p.m.

Kalief’s story grabbed media attention and angered Americans across the nation when the facts of his arrest, two-year solitary confinement, and subsequent bouts with depression came to light. (In 2010, he had been charged with robbery and was housed at New York City’s Rikers Island jail; he was never tried.)

Upon release , Kalief attempted suicide for a second time. Despite efforts to continue his education and find his place on the outside, he never overcame the mental and psychological effects of beatings at the hands of correctional officers and inmates.

His mother, Venida Browder, filed two lawsuits against the city, yet, sadly, she died in October 2016, following a series of heart attacks.

Akeem Browder, Kalief’s older brother and founder of the “Campaign to Shut Down Rikers,” vows to pursue justice on behalf of his brother and their mother.

UPCOMING: Tune in on Monday, March 6 to my Spreaker podcast, “One Mother’s Voice.” I will feature a “Tribute to Venida Browder: Mother Turned Criminal Justice Activist.” 

Through the Camera’s Lens: Prisons

Most Americans will never see the inside of a prison.

Movies and TV shows provide the only glimpses they will ever get into a mysterious world based on stereotypes of dangerous, disturbed, or devious inmates and corrupt or cruel prison guards (more accurately, correctional officers).

On the other hand, prison dramas frequently fall back on familiar stock characters to evoke empathy: the wrongly accused, the illiterate, or the mentally ill. Think: The Shawshank Redemption starring Tim Robbins as banker Andy Dufresne accused of a double murder for which he professes his innocence. He suffers years of abuse at the hands of the warden and a sadistic guard but after years in prison triumphs.

Graphic depictions of rapes, assaults, and killings so common on television (Oz, HBO 1997-2003; Prison Break, Fox Broadcasting 2005-2009) and in film fascinate viewers for the same reason that onlookers gawk at a horrific traffic accident–they are smugly sure that such bad things will not happen them.

What makes real prisons so intolerable for real inmates are isolation (from family and friends), numbing monotony, and grinding boredom. Likewise, bad food, limited or no programs, grim surroundings, and hundreds of seemingly petty rules make serving time a spirit-destroying experience.

Not surprisingly, the threat of violence is exacerbated among inmates forced to live in close proximity to so many others.

It takes very talented writers, directors, and actors to capture the essence of prison life in an empathetic, but honest, way and to reflect the range of personalities and mindsets of those who society deems irredeemable–murderers, drug abusers, rapists, swindlers, gangbangers, and thieves.

Netfix’s Orange is the New Black, Season Two (which in the interest of self-disclosure I admit I have never viewed), seems to fit this criteria in its hit series about life in a women’s prison. In the July 2014 edition of The New Yorker, Emily Nussbaum writes:

If the show had a mission statement, it was to restore the humanity of women so often portrayed as monsters or as lurid victims… (and) it’s more uncompromising about its characters, at once more nuanced and more damning.

It is unlikely that prison reform will ever become a national priority until public misconceptions about prisoners (influenced by movies and television) are grounded in truth.

Perhaps then, citizens will demand that correctional institutions focus equally on the “care,” as well as the “custody” aspects of their missions. After all, what happens to inmates largely affects how they return to society–either hateful or hopeful.