Tariq MaQbool: Incarcerated Voices Demand Attention in New Jersey Prisons

As the call for systemic change echoes across America, sparked by the recent anniversary of the tragic killing of George Floyd and countless others, a renewed demand for better policing and judicial reforms is resonating strongly in New Jersey prisons.

This cry for justice comes at a critical time, with election season on the horizon and civil rights organizations increasing pressure on gubernatorial candidates. Yet, despite the growing clamor for reform, the voices of the incarcerated remain conspicuously absent from the conversation.

Among the cacophony of advocacy, those behind bars feel their pleas for change are ignored. “People outside don’t understand or want to hear from us about the racism we encounter daily,” says one of my fellow incarcerated men from New Jersey State Prison. “We don’t have a voice or a seat at the table. The talk of change is just that — talk. When it comes to action, there’s nothing.”

The frustration is palpable among the incarcerated, who witness the debate over police and judicial reforms yet feel abandoned by the system. The sentiment is shared by my friend Kory “Hussain” McClary, an incarcerated writer and award winning poet who has found a way to voice his frustrations through social media. “I send my tweets through a friend outside. I tweeted about New Jersey’s 12:1 ratio of black to white inmates, the highest racial disparity in the nation,” McClary explains. This statistic, from a New Jersey Criminal Sentencing and Disposition Commission report,  highlights the deep-seated racial inequities within the state’s justice system.

The reality of life behind bars is a stark contrast to the outside world’s perception. Inmates face harsh conditions, like those at Hudson County Correctional Facility when I was there from 2002-05. The facility’s administrative segregation [Ad-Seg] unit was particularly brutal, with inmates locked up for 31 hours at a stretch in freezing cells, often with nothing to occupy their minds. Protests, such as flooding cells by clogging toilets, were not uncommon — driven by a mix of frustration and the mind-numbing boredom of solitary confinement.

One notable incident involved a Nigerian immigrant who found himself in Ad-Seg after making what authorities deemed a “terroristic threat.” His subsequent treatment — deprived of blankets and toilet paper, and later brutally beaten by officers — epitomizes the systemic abuse and racism that inmates endure.

These stories highlight a duality: while the police and judicial systems are publicly condemned for their flaws and racism, the suffering of those incarcerated within these systems is overlooked. Incarcerated persons like me, McClary and our other peers strive to share our truths through our writings, hoping to shed light on our plight and inspire genuine reform.

The State of New Jersey, often seen as progressive, harbors a troubling history of racial disparities. Despite annual reports and recommendations from the New Jersey Criminal Sentencing and Disposition Commission, practical measures to address racial inequities remain elusive. Meanwhile, states like California are making strides with legislation like the California Racial Justice Act for All, which aims to rectify racially biased convictions.

If New Jersey is to move towards true reform, it could look to such initiatives as a blueprint. As election season approaches, the voices from behind bars must be included in the dialogue for meaningful change to take root. Only by addressing the systemic racism embedded in its institutions can New Jersey hope to transform its justice system and genuinely serve all its citizens.