Kalief Browder: A Decade Later

Support for this podcast and the following message come from Sutter Health.

Whether it's prenatal care or post-menopausal guidance, Sutter's team of OBGYNs, doctors, and nurses are dedicated to building long-term relationships for lifelong care.

With personalized care plans for every patient, it's their commitment to supporting every woman at every stage of her life.

Learn more at Sutterhealth.org.

This message is brought to you by AppleCard.

Did you know AppleCard is designed to help you pay off your balance faster with smart payment suggestions?

And because fees don't help you, AppleCard doesn't have any.

So if your credit card isn't Apple Card, maybe it should be.

Subject to credit approval, AppleCard issued by Goldman Sachs Bank USA, Salt Lake City Branch.

Variable APRs range from 18.24% to 28.49% based on creditworthiness.

Rates as of July 1st, 2025.

Terms and more at Applecard.com.

And now, a next level moment from AT ⁇ T Business.

Say you've sent out a gigantic shipment of pillows and they need to be there in time for International Sleep Day.

You've got ATT 5G, so you're fully confident, but the vendor isn't responding.

And International Sleep Day is tomorrow.

Luckily, ATT 5G lets you deal with any issues with ease, so the pillows will get delivered and everyone can sleep soundly, especially you.

ATT 5G requires a compatible plan and device.

Coverage not available everywhere.

Learn more at ATT.com/slash 5G network.

This is the New Yorker Radio Hour, a co-production of WNYC Studios and The New Yorker.

This is the New Yorker Radio Hour.

I'm David Remnick.

Take a moment and think back to your high school years, where you lived, who your friends were, what you were into.

Now imagine that your junior and senior years of high school never happened.

And instead, you had spent those years trapped in a jail cell without ever being convicted convicted of a crime.

This is not a story out of Kafka, it's what happened to Khalif Browder, a teenager from the Bronx.

When Browder was just 16, he was held for robbery and assault charges after allegedly stealing a backpack.

He spent three years on Rikers Island, New York City's notorious jail complex, waiting to go to trial.

New Yorker staff writer Jennifer Gonerman wrote about Browder in 2014, and the case put a spotlight on all the failings of New York City's justice system.

Delays in the courts, the overuse of solitary confinement, teenagers charged as adults, brutality on the part of corrections officers.

Two years after Browder got out of jail, he took his own life.

His suicide became national news and was mentioned by President Obama in an op-ed condemning the overuse of solitary confinement.

Shortly after Browder's death, a court ruled that conditions at Rikers Island were so bad that the jail was put under federal oversight.

Things did not improve.

So far this year, seven people have died at the jail or shortly after being released.

And last month, New York City lost control of the jail when a federal judge said she would appoint an outside official to run it.

The 10th anniversary of Browder's death was on June 6th.

Jennifer Gonnerman went back to the recordings from her hours of interviews with him, and you can hear her pen scratching in the background as she took notes.

I met Khalif about nine months after he got out of jail.

This was early in 2014.

Here, it should feel well as hot.

Yeah, no, so I just have like a bunch of little questions that are more.

We get together near his lawyer's office.

Usually, Khalif showed up wearing a hoodie with one earbud in his ear, the other dangling down.

I have a whole list of stuff I'd type in.

He came across as shy and quiet, but when I would turn on a tape recorder, he would talk, sometimes for two or three hours at a stretch.

Not just about his time in jail, but about his life before when he was still just a sophomore in high school.

I'm not gonna talk to you and tell you I was a good kid and did all my work.

I did do my work, but I did fool around with the girls and the kids playing in the hallways.

I was a kid doing what kid did.

Playing around in the bathroom, sometimes get the hallway passed, play around in my friend's classroom whatever the teacher be like get out i'll be like all right i'm kill miss i'm gonna go with my class stuff like that flirt with girls in the hallway right kind of thing right

khalif's life as a high school student ended late one night in may of 2010.

to be honest i thought it was just a routine stop and search or stop and frisk

when they came out the car They told me and my friend to put our hands on the wall and I just thought it was a search.

Yeah, don't worry about it.

We're just going to go to pre-seed.

We just want to figure out some things.

Most likely you're gonna go home.

I know I didn't do anything so I said, all right, I'll go to the precinct, but then I'm gonna come home.

But it didn't, I never went home.

Khalif was taken over the bridge to Rikers Island, where he entered a whole different reality.

That whole Rikers Island thing is one big misunderstanding.

Like the right and wrong is weird in there.

Like what's right to them isn't right.

And what's wrong isn't wrong.

It took a whole lot of getting used to it in there.

For most of Khalif's time on Rikers he was in solitary confinement, usually a 12 by 7 foot cell for at least 23 hours a day.

He got sent to solitary for fighting with other inmates but once you got there it was very easy to rack up more and more days and the worst time of year was the summer.

They have a vent and it blows heat for some reason.

I don't know why.

You think that it would blow cold air, but it's heat.

If you put your hand next to it it's heat

the vents did serve another purpose though all day long inmates had conversations through them i'll fake befriend somebody what do you call it fake befriend right because i'm not really trying to become your friend but i'm talking to you but then they feel like they're your friend and then they want to talk about all this other stuff i don't want to talk about that

gang stuff or I robbed this person or I shot this person a bunch of dumb stuff and I don't want to hear that.

And then there's times when they talk to themselves and yell at themselves and bang their heads on the wall all day and they're very loud.

You know it's real because they'll be in an event with you for about a month or two and they do it all day, every day.

So you know it's not a game.

What if it's 11 o'clock at night?

That could be going on 11 o'clock at night?

No, 11.

It'll be 4 a.m.

in the morning and then dude will be kicking, yelling to the top as long as I

Then you try to talk to them, but they don't understand what you're trying to say because they're mentally disturbed So they get mad and then they start doing it more

I Mean I had one dude he was talking to himself all day every day He's actually have like how we're having a conversation just like that with himself all day That's the type of person where once in the blue moon I really listen to and just laugh to myself.

Like there was a time when, you know, he was talking about a video game, Grand Theft Auto, and one of the Grand Theft Autos that he was talking about, I actually played it.

So when he was talking to himself about it and the stuff you do in the game, I was actually laughing because he was telling the truth.

But when you're trying to go to sleep and he's yelling and that goes out the window, you're like, it's not even funny no more.

It's really annoying.

Jennifer Gonerman speaking with Khalif Browder.

More in a moment.

Support for this podcast and the following message come from Sutter Health.

From life-changing transplants to high blood pressure care, Sutter's team of doctors, surgeons, and nurses never miss a beat.

And with cardiac specialty centers located in the community, patients can find personalized heart care that's close to home.

Learn more at Sutterhealth.org.

WNYC Studios is supported by Quince.

Fall is here and you need some fun new basics, but you don't want to drop a fortune.

Quince has you covered, literally.

High-quality fabrics, classic fits, and lightweight layers for changing weather, all at prices that make sense.

I've ordered so much from them, and honestly, I love it all.

Quince has closet staples you'll want to reach for over and over, like cozy cashmere and cotton sweaters from just $50, breathable flow-knit polos, and comfortable lightweight pants that somehow work for both weekend hangs and dressed-up dinners.

The best part?

Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes.

Besides the wardrobe staples, I've also been loving the home goods.

The Quince bath sheets make me feel like I'm at a high-end spa, and I've been sleeping like a baby on their 100% European linen sheets.

Keep it classic and cool with long-lasting staples from Quince.

Go to quince.com/slash radio hour for free shipping on your order and 365-day returns.

That's q-u-in-ce-e.com/slash radio hour to get free shipping and 365-day returns.

Quince.com slash radio hour.

This message is brought to you by AppleCard.

Did you know AppleCard is designed to help you pay off your balance faster with smart payment suggestions?

And because fees don't help you, AppleCard doesn't have any.

So if your credit card isn't Apple Card, maybe it should be.

Subject to credit approval, AppleCard issued by Goldman Sachs Bank USA, Salt Lake City Branch.

Variable APRs range from 18.24% to 28.49% based on creditworthiness.

Rates as of July 1st, 2025.

Terms and more at AppleCard.com.

Comcast Business High Five Hotline.

I signed my business up for the five-year price lock guarantee, and I can't stop high-fiving people.

That's perfectly natural when you sign up for Gig Speed Internet and Advanced Security.

Locked in at a great rate for five years.

Really?

That's great news.

High-five, everybody!

The Comcast Business Five-Year Price Lock Guarantee is back, but only for a limited time.

Sign up today.

High five.

Ends 9-21-25 for new customers with qualifying bundles.

Current customer eligibility varies by service and area.

Guaranteed rate applies to the monthly service charge, excluding taxes, and fees.

Our restrictions apply.

apply.

Khalif missed his junior and senior years of high school.

Teenage inmates do attend classes on Rikers, but because Khalif was in solitary, all that he had was something called self-study.

A correction officer would slip worksheets under his door and pick them up a few days later.

The way I see it was like they put me in jail for something I didn't do.

I might as well try to do something.

So I used to take the school thing serious.

I used to really be looking forward to taking a test.

And the will come and then she'll pick up people's schoolwork and I'm on the top tier.

And I'll call her, CEO, Mitch, come such and such cell on the top.

I got work for you.

Hey, I'm coming up there right now.

Then they don't come.

Then you call the captain, Captain, my work, what's going on?

I'm going to find out.

Just give me an hour.

I'm going to come back.

I'm going to see what's going on.

Before you know, the shift's changing.

You're like, dad, you're trying to really progress.

You really, this is school.

You're not talking about anything else.

You're talking about school.

And they still don't even respect it

all day i'm thinking about dad i'm hungry i'm hungry i'm hungry i used to actually beg this correction officers they would fix surfing the food and there's always extras but it'll be you know two three slices of bread left over but i'm hungry so i would ask him i would say you know can i get that bread and he would tell me no no, you don't want that.

Why not?

Because it's the end piece of the bread.

I don't care if that's the end piece of the bread.

I'm hungry.

I want that bread.

Nah, you don't want it.

And they'll tell me no.

Khalif endured violence on Rikers Island at the hands of correction officers and other inmates.

But when I asked him, what was the worst part of being on Rikers?

He didn't say the violence.

It was the hunger.

Sometimes, if you made a guard mad, When he came around with the meal trays, he'd skip your cell.

You're just stuck in a cell and you're you're getting starved and you're hungry and then at nighttime, you can't even go to sleep because your ribs are touching.

Literally, how can you not get angry at that?

Just being in a situation where you can't do nothing and

you're helpless, that's very stressful.

And you're just powerless.

When it's hot, and the walls are sweating, the heat's coming out the vent, you didn't get in the shower past two days, your cell's dirty, and then you read all your books already and you're just sitting there.

That's very stressful.

Like, it's crazy.

Do you feel yourself changing?

Like, I don't know, getting more angry or short-temper?

Or

the anger would come when I would be in my cell and I would get starved.

And then when I try to talk to their superiors, when I try to talk to them, they just walk away from me, and then I'm in my cell.

So it's not like I could tap his back and be like, hey, I'm talking to you.

There was one way to get the attention of a captain.

When the officers delivered the food trays and picked them up, they had to unlock the slot in the cell door.

If you were quick enough, you could shove your arm out through the slot and keep it there.

The inmates called this holding your slot.

Because if you don't hold your slot, you're like an unheard voice.

The correction officers will not put you in the shower and they'll disrespect you or do all types of stuff to you.

And you can't tell nobody.

You'll try to talk to the captain.

They'll just keep walking on you.

Nobody wants to hear you.

You You have no voice.

If you hold your slot, they give you more days on that?

It depends because you got some captains that they talk to you.

They work it out with you.

Like, what's going on?

Like a regular person.

Right.

But then you got some of them, oh, you're holding your slot.

I don't care.

Write him up.

So when you take matters into your hands, and it's like a double-edged sword, it might work and it might not work.

I used to tell my mom the stuff the correction officers used to do to me.

And it's like, I remember the days when I used to be able to come to my mom be like mom I need help da-da-da Something would happen to me in school my mom would be there get me out of trouble but now I'm in jail and the correction officers are violating my rights my mom can't even help me it is a weird situation my mom was always able to help and now my mom was just crying on the phone just it was out of her hands

So it's stressing and then especially during the times like Christmas and Thanksgiving when I'm in solitary confinement, and I call my mom, but then they're telling me, we're eating this, but you're doing this, we're doing that.

And I'm just sitting in solitary confinement for something I didn't do.

A few times, the stress seemed to overtake Khalif.

One night, he tied his bed sheet into a noose and tried to hang himself from his light fixture.

By then, he had been on Rikers for almost two years and was still waiting for his case to go to trial.

Every six or eight weeks, he was brought to the Bronx to stand before a judge.

Every time with the court, it was always that side of me that's telling me like, you're gonna go home.

But then I tried not to hype myself up because it hurts when you think you're going home and then you don't go home.

That's all I used to cut in my mind.

I can't wait to go to trial so I gotta prove I didn't do it.

That's all I used to tell myself, I want to go to trial, I want to go to trial, I want to go to trial.

And no trial, no trial.

And I used to tell myself, why aren't they ready for trial?

I don't understand.

Finally, after Khalif had made 30 trips back and forth to court, a judge told him that he could go home today.

All he had to do, she said, was to plead guilty.

The first thing that came to my head is for them to offer me something like that, they have to know they're wrong.

So if they know they're wrong, there's no point in taking it.

And I told her, I didn't do it.

I'm not saying I did sign down and didn't do.

She's like, I'll let you go home today.

You won't have no probation.

But she said a bunch of things that sounded good.

And it really was tempting, too.

It was a lot mentally because half of you wants to get out of there and the other half don't want to leave just over the strength of a principle.

You know all of that put together just made my head go crazy.

It's astonishing but Khalif turned down the offer even though he knew that if he went to trial and lost he could get up to 15 years in state prison.

After that court day, I cried and I said, yo, what if I made a mistake?

I always knew that there's always people that's innocent that go to trial and they blow.

You know, like, what if I go to trial and I do blow?

Dudes that was fake my friends in there, they used to tell me, Khalif, why?

Just take it, go home.

I told them, bro, you don't understand how I feel right now.

I didn't do this.

I've been in here 30-something months.

You think I'm going to just take that?

It's all okay, and I'm going to just go home.

No.

So all the other guys on Rikers, they don't understand what you're talking about, right?

They're like, they don't make any sense to me.

Right, they call me all types of names.

You're dumb, you're stupid.

If that was me, I would have said I did it, went home.

And I'm not gonna lie, I mean, it did get to me.

When I used to talk like that, I used to go to my cell and lay down and think, like, you know, maybe I am crazy, or maybe I am going too far, but I just did what I felt was right.

At his next court date in the spring of 2013, the judge dismissed the charges against Khalif Browder altogether.

He moved back home into his mother's house in the Bronx and enrolled in a GED class.

But he could not stop thinking about that day in court, how nobody had apologized to him or even acknowledged the fact that he had just lost three years of his life.

You can't understand it if you've never been to Rakish Island.

It's not like out here.

Out here,

you can just live life and go about your business.

And there, there's no living life.

There's no life at all in there.

It's just it's just a how.

It's one big how.

There's no happiness to it at all.

If like we weren't sitting down and I wasn't asking you about this, do you think you would be thinking about it otherwise?

I think about jail and the stuff that happened in there and the stuff that I've seen in there every day.

I just

feel as if there's no way that somebody could possibly tell me to just get over it and stop thinking about that stuff.

There's no way.

Is that something that people say to you?

I mean, some people feel as if I need to get over it, but, you know, it's not easy to get over it.

In the spring of 2014, Khalif found out that he had passed his GED exam on the first try, and he was ecstatic.

He enrolled at Bronx Community College, eventually earning a GPA of 3.5.

But his mental health problems continued.

He had attempted suicide, and a few times he was confined in a hospital psychiatric ward.

On a Saturday afternoon, I got a phone call.

I saw that it was Khalif's attorney, and I knew that it was bad news.

He wouldn't usually call on a Saturday.

Khalif had killed himself.

We went to his house that night.

His parents, siblings, cousins, aunts, and uncles were there, and everyone seemed to be in shock.

On the second floor, his father showed me where Khalif had pulled an air conditioner out of the wall, looped a cord around his neck, and pushed his body out through the opening.

He was 22 years old.

Now when I listen back to my interviews with Khalif, I wonder why did he spend so many hours confiding in me, a stranger, about the worst experiences of his life.

i know he wanted his suffering to count for something so that other people wouldn't have to go through what he endured but i also think about how in the end khalif never got his day in court and i think he really just wanted the chance to finally tell his story

My friends that was in the school, they didn't know anything because I bumped into a few of them.

They would ask me, where you been?

I haven't seen you wow.

I told them, like, I was arrested, I got locked up.

And I had to tell them the sob story.

What do you tell them?

Like, how do you tell the short version of that story?

I would tell them how I got arrested for something I didn't do.

Took me 37 months to prove that I didn't do it.

Khalif Browder, who died 10 years ago this June, talking with the New Yorkers, Jennifer Gonerman.

That's the New Yorker Radio Hour for today.

Thanks so much for listening.

See you next time.

The New Yorker Radio Hour is a co-production of WNYC Studios and The New Yorker.

Our theme music was composed and performed by Meryl Garbis of Tune Yards, with additional music by Louis Mitchell.

This episode was produced by Max Balton, Adam Howard, David Krasnow, Jeffrey Masters, Louis Mitchell, Jared Paul, and Ursula Summer.

With guidance from Emily Botine and assistance from Michael May, David Gable, Alex Barrish, Victor Guan, and Alejandra Deckett.

The New Yorker Radio Hour is supported in part by the Torina Endowment Fund.

Comcast Business High Five Hotline.

I signed my business up for the five-year price lock guarantee, and I can't stop high-fiving people.

That's perfectly natural when you sign up for Gig Speed Internet and Advanced Security.

Locked in at a great rate for five years.

Really?

That's great news.

High-five, everybody!

The Comcast Business five-year price lock guarantee is back, but only for a limited time.

Sign up today.

High five!

Ins 9-21-25.

For new customers with qualifying bundles.

Current customer eligibility varies by service and area.

Guarantee rate applies to monthly service charge, excluding taxes and empties.

Other restrictions apply.

My name is Madeline Barron.

I'm a journalist for The New Yorker.

I focus on stories where powerful people or institutions are doing something that's harming people or harming someone or something in some way.

And so, my job is to report that so exhaustively that we can reveal what's actually going on and present it to the public.

You know, for us at In the Dark, we're paying equal attention to the reporting and the storytelling.

And we felt a real kinship with the New Yorker, like the combination of the deeply reported stories that the New Yorker is known for,

but also the quality of those stories, the attention to narrative.

If I could give you only one reason to subscribe to The New Yorker, it would be

maybe this is not the answer you're looking for, but

I just don't think that there is any other magazine in America that combines so many different types of things into a single issue as The New Yorker.

You know, like you have poetry, you have theater reviews, you have restaurant recommendations, which for some reason I read even though I don't live in New York City.

And all of those things are great, but I haven't even mentioned like the other half of the magazine, which is deeply reported stories that honestly are the first things that I read.

You know, I'm a big fan of gymnastics, and people will say, oh, we're so lucky to live in the era of Simone Biles, which I agree.

We're also so lucky to live in the era of Lawrence Wright, Jane Mayer, Ronan Farrow, Hatrick Rad and Keefe.

And so to me, it's like, I can't imagine not reading these writers.

You can have all the journalism, the fiction, the film, book, and TV reviews, all the cartoons just by going right now to newyorker.com/slash dark.

Plus, there's an incredible archive, a century's worth of award-winning work just waiting for you.

That's newyorker.com/slash dark.

And thanks.