Analyzing the systemic racial issues highlighted by Robert Brooks’ tragic demise
The tragic death/murder of Robert Brooks while in the custody of New York City corrections officers is yet another grim chapter in America’s ongoing struggle with police brutality and systemic racism. Brooks’s death and the subsequent release of images and video showing officers beating a handcuffed man evoke haunting parallels to lynchings, where perpetrators acted with impunity, often in front of onlookers who did nothing. While District Attorney Letitia James and other officials swiftly condemned this heinous act, the silence from broader law enforcement circles underscores a persistent and systemic issue.
Too often, job stress is used as a rationalization for the excessive force employed by police and corrections officers, particularly against people of color. While no one denies that law enforcement is a demanding profession, the reality is that stress cannot and should not serve as a shield for brutality. Not having a job is stressful. Raising Black sons in a world where their lives are constantly at risk is stressful. Living in a high-crime neighborhood is stressful. These realities, however, do not justify preemptive violence or excessive actions, so why should it excuse taxpayer-funded assaults and murders perpetrated under the guise of law enforcement?
After 9/11, American Muslims were placed under intense scrutiny and repeatedly called upon to condemn the actions of a few extremists. Society demanded they disassociate from these perpetrators, reinforcing an unfair collective responsibility. Yet, we see no similar demands for law enforcement to condemn or disavow their colleagues who abuse their power. Instead, criticism of police misconduct is often met with accusations of being “anti-law enforcement,” creating a false dichotomy: either you support all actions of law enforcement, or you’re against them entirely. This mentality—a “Blue Code” of silence—is eerily akin to the “no-snitch” culture criticized in communities plagued by crime.
The images of officers beating a defenseless Robert Brooks are an affront to any notion of justice or humanity. It is chilling to imagine the glee and complicity of others who stood by as this taxpayer-funded brutality unfolded. And while there are commendable law enforcement officers who uphold their duty to protect and serve, those who perpetrate such acts of violence tarnish the badge and erode public trust.
For those who deflect by pointing to “Black-on-Black crime,” the distinction must be made clear: crimes within a community are not taxpayer-funded. Law enforcement officers, by contrast, are entrusted with a higher standard of conduct. Their actions are supposed to embody fairness, justice, and the rule of law. When they fail, the betrayal cuts deeper, and the consequences reverberate further.
There is a troubling tendency, particularly among white Americans, to justify or minimize police violence against Black individuals. Many reflexively scrutinize the victim’s past, even when the offenses are non-violent or irrelevant to the situation. This selective focus shifts the narrative, making the abuse more palatable. The real question we must ask ourselves is this: if Robert Brooks had been white, would he have been treated differently? The answer—painfully obvious to many—reflects the deeply ingrained biases within our society and its institutions.
My own experiences underscore the pervasive nature of this problem. In the early 1990s, while in police custody, I was threatened with physical violence—once with being thrown down the stairs while handcuffed and another time with being choked by an officer for as he said, “being a smart-allicky nigger”. These moments were not isolated; they were indicative of a broader posture of asserting authority through intimidation and dehumanization, particularly against Black men. For too long, these abuses went unrecorded, unseen by the wider public. How many more cases like Robert Brooks exist—uncaptured by bodycams or phones?
The constant fear for my sons weighs heavily on me. Every time they leave their houses, I am exasperated, hurt, and terrified that they might not return. No parent should have to live with such a burden, yet this is the reality for countless Black families in America. The trauma is compounded when the broader society—through silence or justification—signals that it does not value Black lives equally.
Consider the treatment of Dylann Roof, a white supremacist who murdered nine Black parishioners in South Carolina. He was captured alive, provided a meal from Burger King, and allowed to face justice in the courts. Contrast this with the countless Black individuals who have been killed during arrests or while in custody for far lesser offenses. The disparity is stark and undeniable.
If we are to move forward as a society, we must confront these uncomfortable truths. We must demand accountability from those entrusted with public safety and reject the excuses that perpetuate injustice. For those who continue to justify these actions, perhaps it is time to ask yourself: do you truly value Black lives as you do your own? Hate and indifference have unintended consequences, and the cost of ignoring them is far too great. To the MAGA enthusiasts, understand this is what Black people of sound mind hear and think of when we hear Making American Great Again…taking Black people back in time where their dehumanization and maltreatment was commonplace. That slogan bears great caution, anxiety and need to understand the trauma it invokes.
#SystemicRacism. #RobertBrooks #Change
