Every day, more gruesome details emerge of the inhumane conditions inside the detention facilities maintained by agents with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). There are countless reports of forced labor, sexual and physical assault, filthy facilities, and people crammed into cells.
Last year, thirty-two people died in ICE custody, marking the agency’s deadliest year in more than two decades. Tragically, the casualties continue to pile up in 2026, with thirteen in-custody deaths through early March.
These horrid conditions have prompted people across the nation to speak up and wage resistance. Many civil rights groups are suing the federal government over these conditions, and the states of Michigan, Maryland, and New Jersey are suing to stop the construction of new detention centers.
However, for too many Americans, the conditions behind ICE walls are hauntingly familiar. Millions of people have experienced institutionalized cruelties in our nation’s prisons and jails.
ICE facilities mirror our nation’s longstanding incarceration philosophy: cultivate fear, warehouse people of color, and dehumanize and demean those behind bars, all under the guise of “public safety.” There is a destructive core belief that incarcerated people are less than human.
The National Institute of Justice estimates that at least 6,500 people die each year behind bars in the United States, the world’s leading incarcerator. These are mothers, fathers, grandparents, and siblings who entered government custody alive and left in coffins.
Some of these deaths are fueled by substandard nutrition, medical neglect, and violence inflicted by officers, all chronic features of incarceration. There have been documented instances across multiple states of moldy meals, insufficient caloric intake, and delayed or denied medical treatment.
At the same time, meaningful family contact is routinely restricted. Visitation is frequently limited, and transfers can move loved ones hundreds of miles away with little warning.
Forced labor is also rampant. About 800,000 incarcerated people are required to work in prisons nationwide, often earning between thirteen and fifty-two cents per hour for regular prison jobs, according to a 2022 report from the ACLU. In several states, incarcerated workers earn nothing at all. Refusal to work can result in punishment, including solitary confinement or loss of family visitation.
As a longtime advocate of legal reform and a clergyperson who believes in the sacredness of all of God’s children, it’s clear to me that we need a vastly different approach to public safety, one grounded in public love. We need to build a legal system that prioritizes restoration, universal human deservedness, and repair. In so doing, we reaffirm the enduring dignity of every human being, curb state-sanctioned violence, and strengthen communities across the country.
I’ve seen firsthand how powerful it can be to have people-centered programming in prisons. I lead Union Theological Seminary’s Master of Professional Studies program, which offers incarcerated New Yorkers the opportunity to earn a master’s degree. Through rigorous study of theology, ministry, and social justice leadership, students graduate with the skills to lead effectively within and beyond prison walls.
Since the program was created by the New York Theological Seminary in 1982, almost 600 students have graduated. Many have gone on to become influential leaders within the prison population, serving as counselors, mentors, and mediators.
Research is unambiguous that prison programs that center people’s humanity—namely education, therapy, the arts, and mentorship—are of far greater benefit for incarcerated individuals and their communities. Prisons with such programs experience lower levels of violence, and incarcerated participants are far more likely to find employment and contribute to the public good after returning home.
As ICE’s bloody rampage continues to draw outrage, including the unjustifiable killings of protesters like Renée Good and Alex Pretti, may we not forget the deaths of detained immigrants like Geraldo Lunas Campos and Víctor Manuel Díaz.
May we also remember Messiah Nantwi, who died at Marcy Prison at the hands of corrections officers, and Margo Diaz, who died in Clinton County jail. ICE does not exist in a vacuum; it’s a product of a criminal legal system that accepts and exacts death as routine and unavoidable.
It’s time to tear out these roots and atone for such state-sponsored sin. We need a legal system that centers universal human deservedness and belonging and does everything possible to support basic human flourishing.
This column was produced for Progressive Perspectives, a project of The Progressive magazine, and distributed by Tribune News Service.