The Roads to Murder: Perspectives from Those That Have Taken a Life. Part 2. An interview with Brandon Clark.

Please read Part 1 for the introduction to this project before continuing to Part 2, the interview.

On July 14, 2019, Brandon Clark took the life of a young woman he had been dating. The murder made international headlines for the role social media played in the events leading up to, and the day of the murder. Several television documentaries have covered the crime and the victim’s family helped pass a new law in regard to social media’s responsibility in disseminating harmful information about graphic crimes.

Clark has pleaded guilty to the murder and is currently serving 25 years to life in prison. There was no trial. Clark has expressed remorse for his crime publicly and to the victim’s family.

Were there decisions in your life that, looking back, you know were turning points that led you to a dark place? What were they?

  • Declining to be adopted by two different foster families
  • The decision to tell my father I witnessed my mother cheating
  • Quitting Civil Air Patrol after three years and giving up trying to succeed in school
  • Resisting mental health treatment while in foster care
  • Leaving college to get a job
  • Not joining the military with my brother
  • Staying in a toxic relationship for three years despite the toll it took on my mental health
  • Getting involved with alcohol and drugs
  • Convincing myself that I “had control” over my mental health issues

Were there red flags that your friends and family should have seen as far as your behavior or your decisions? What could they have done to help you that you know would have worked?

Yes, there were plenty of red flags. In my early teens, I started to become the typical “loner” type, wearing odd clothes and isolating myself. I was getting in trouble in school and walking out constantly. In 7th grade I was suspended from school for three months for threatening another student, and I was removed from my foster home for physically attacking my younger brother. I became fascinated with weapons and fire, would isolate myself in my room all day, and had violent fantasies. I was also cutting. I was prone to zoning out for long periods and taking long walks or drives at random in the middle of the night. I walked off multiple jobs over minor issues. Toward the end, the social media posts I’d make were what might be labelled “depressive” or “grim.”

When I was younger, I didn’t have much parental support. My parents were controlled by their own issues. Once I got to foster care my issues were noticed, but because I believed what my dad said about mental illness—that it wasn’t real and medication would harm me—I refused to speak to therapists or consider meds.

By the time I reached my mid-teens and my issues became significant, I was essentially on my own. I had gotten very good at hiding my problems and was viewed by most people as someone who was friendly, social, and outgoing. Like most teens, all I wanted were friends and relationships. I saw mental health issues as a stigma and barrier to that, so I hid them. A few people who knew me well still noticed, but they largely ignored my issues, or me. It didn’t help that most of the people I associated with had issues themselves.

By my late teens, things were worse. I would have depressive states for weeks on end, go out nearly every night to somewhere quiet and just sit there for hours. I began to think I should seek help, but I was so busy working (at least two jobs at a time) that I really couldn’t. Since I had next to no financial support, I worked all the time; however, I was making too much to qualify for free health insurance and too little to afford to purchase my own. Getting mental health treatment simply wasn’t feasible.

So I continued on like that, immersing myself in addictions and obsessions, believing I had control over my issues, and if I ever lost that control, the only person I’d hurt would be myself. Obviously, I was wrong.

What help could you have gotten on your own that you think would have helped you with your issues?

The major barriers to seeking help were denial, finances, and time. As a young adult, it’s difficult to seek it without any support. If I knew then where it would lead me, maybe I would have found a way. But I didn’t know, and neither did anyone else.

Do you think mental health professionals could have helped you with all or some of your issues? If not, why not?

Yes, if they had been willing to provide their services for free.

If you were released from prison today, how would you help yourself? Is there something you feel you would need to do to correct, on your own, for the crime you committed?

I would prioritize getting all the mental health treatment I needed. I would avoid drugs, alcohol, and unhealthy relationships, and I would immerse myself in community programs to keep me positive and busy. There is no way for me to meaningfully “correct my actions”—I took a life, not a car or a wallet. But I would really like a career where I can save lives. Sadly, many of them are off the table because of my charges, but I’m sure there’s something out there for me.

If you could go in a time machine and travel back in time, at what stage of your life would you go and start down a different path?

If I could change any of the decisions I mentioned in question #1, it would change my life path. If I had to choose one, I would have accepted the offer of adoption. It was from a great family, an older couple. The foster father was a pastor, and they were well off. I did well with them, and all of their six adult children have fulfilling and happy lives. Maybe I would’ve too, had I accepted their offer.

Is there anything you feel was missing from your relationships with your family and friends?

Everything was missing from my relationship with my family. There was no consistency, and I was constantly moving around and living with different people—first with one parent, then with the other, and sometimes with neither. My parents put their issues before my future, and I often felt like I was the parent, helping them with rides and with money. I had to figure it all out myself: how to get a job, how to get a car, how to go to college, where to live. If I wanted to visit a friend, I had to walk; if I wanted to do any kind of sport or join a gym, I had to pay for it and get myself there somehow. Even though my dad was a lifelong mechanic, I had to learn how to fix my own car. Tough love is one thing; refusing to be a parent to your own kid is another. You’re supposed to care about your child’s future. Maybe you don’t give them handouts, but at the very least you provide guidance. Some people can overcome that sort of deprivation, but I didn’t.

I had lots of great friends. The issue was that I always had to leave them behind. I’ve lived in dozens of places, never staying in one for very long (from a few months to less than three years). Because of that, I lost a lot of great friendships.

Do you feel the social subcultures you were involved in distorted your real identity? If so, how?

I’m not sure subcultures distort your identity as much as they reinforce who you already are. I liked nerdy culture because I liked nerdy media; I liked alternative culture because I liked alternative style and expression. I liked jock culture because I liked to compete and work out.

How can loved ones identify and redirect someone who is showing signs of trouble caused by web-based social engagement?

Keep them off of it or keep them busy. The internet isn’t a good place for people who are too easily influenced by it. It’s addictive. It also gives people who have no business being online the ability to communicate discreetly. Parents really have no idea what the hell their kids are doing online. Parental controls only go so far, and most kids find a way to work around them. Monitoring a kid’s online access is a full-time job. The only reasonable method is to cut off their access or severely limit it.

What has given you peace, comfort, and pleasure throughout your life?

Music, primarily. When I was having a rough day, I would put on some happy-go-lucky songs and calm down. A favorite was New Radicals, “You Get What You Give.” I also liked to take drives, visit Destiny USA in Syracuse (one of the world’s largest malls), and take long jogs. I’d take jogs at night to get away from my father when he got home.

Has anyone ever expressed regret that there were things that they could have done to help you early on with your struggles?

Most of my family has expressed some regret for not doing something they thought would’ve helped me. I’ve only heard from two friends, but they both said that, as did my family attorney from when I was in foster care. I think when stuff like this happens, everyone that’s connected has those feelings in some way.

What is something about yourself that you wish the correctional institution could know about you?

I wish DOCCS (Department of Corrections and Community Supervision) knew that I have a sincere desire to change. They don’t offer much in terms of programs to assist me in here, and most of what they do offer I haven’t been able to get into. I’ve also made a lot of effort to address my mental health issues, but all I’ve basically gotten is a minor antidepressant. I’ve had maybe three therapy sessions and no real analysis of what mental health issues I may even have. So here I am with one of the most insane and disturbing cases of this century—not to mention being possibly the only person in history to have cut his own throat and then posted a selfie online—yet I have no diagnosis. What adds insult to injury is that they have me classified as an MH-level 2V, which is the second highest level, right below 1SV, which is when you’re so mentally ill you can’t perform day-to-day functions. So they know that I’m significantly mentally ill and yet they won’t tell me how, or how to treat myself.

That’s prison culture though—they don’t really make any effort to rehabilitate you. You just get thrown in a box and treated like you’re shit and never will be shit. If they actually helped people here to change, they wouldn’t have a need for prisons and a staff of 15,000 people, would they?

Is punishment a fair response to being held accountable for committing a violent crime?

It has to be. People piss each other off, sometimes massively, and punishment is the only thing keeping many from reacting violently. The world is already an extremely violent place with consequences—imagine if there weren’t any.

That being said, there needs to be more consideration as far as the motive and mindset behind each individual crime. All crimes are not equal—one person may hurt another because they’re in an emotional state of rage or panic or delirium. Crimes of this type are often the result of specific circumstances; they don’t necessarily occur because the people who commit them are malicious. They’re often retaliatory events. Such crimes are the reason why New York, for example, has legislation like the Domestic Violence Survivors Act and the Extreme Emotional Disturbance defense. Anybody can act violently under the right circumstances.

On the flip side, there are people who will kill indiscriminately simply because they want to or because they enjoy it. There are Dahmers and Bundys out there on the prowl, looking for people (usually strangers who have done nothing to them) to torture and rape and kill. They do it for their own enjoyment and do it repeatedly. Yet it’s not on the same level as the crime committed under emotional duress. The only similarity is the action of the crime itself.

While all violent crime needs to have some form of punishment as a deterrent, the severity of the punishment should match the reasoning behind the crime.

The Roads to Murder: Perspectives from Those That Have Taken a Life. An ongoing post of interviews with those convicted of murder. Part 1

According to the FBI, there were 21,570 murders in 2020, with 16,425 in 2019. When we think of rising homicide rates, we think of states like New York and California but in 2020, Montana’s murder rates went up by 84% in one year. South Dakota’s went up by 81%. The most dangerous state is actually Alaska with a crime rate of 885 per 100k people vs New York with 351 per 100k people. There are scores of research as to the hows and whys of murder and murder rates, with all of it being controversial and incomplete. Some say murderers murder because of brain deformities, social issues and mental illness. Others say it’s because of opportunity, demonic influence and the desire to be evil. All murderers have one thing in common, they are generally shunned by society forever. Once someone is convicted of murder it’s as if a veil has been lifted off of them and we see them as something that is not human and not one of us. Murder is seen in our culture as the worst crime and in many religions, the worst sin, and rightly so. No one should have to die from a murderous act. It brings out in us the worst sorrow and anger, as it should. The truth is they are one of us and we need to reconcile that fact.

Cities across the world have been trying to reduce homicides by introducing many community programs and resources for those affected by homicide. They do show some results, but the rates still climb. There are answers if we choose to be brave enough to seek them. When we lock the murderers away and throw away the key, we throw away resources that can help us reduce homicide and crime in general. We forget they are human and have gone through their lifetime of human events that got them where they are now. In a courtroom, everything is black and white, but life isn’t. It’s a lot more complicated, and those “hows” and “whys” develop over a period of time. When a homicide happens, it’s too late. It’s like many dark roads meeting together at one point of no return. If we could somehow close some of those “roads” before someone reaches that dead end. If only there was a way of knowing how. There is, ask the ones who committed the act. Let them be a part of the process to reduce homicides. Let’s stop guessing what went wrong and be brave and listen to them. We think they are not like us, but it just takes one passionate wrong decision for one of us to go to the point of no return.

This blog post will be a continuing series of interviews with those that have been convicted of murder. It is my goal for us to understand them better and to get an idea of their life and the decisions they made that brought them to where they are now. We need their perspectives if we want answers to reducing strong acts of violence. The purpose of Perspectives On Living has been about learning and helping ourselves by seeing other perspectives. It’s about “listening”and not judging. You may know some of the people that will be interviewed and have very strong opinions on them. I’m not asking you to change your opinions. This post is about moving forward. How can we take what we know about these people and look for warning signs? What did they need early on in their lives that could have prevented the horrific outcome for the victim and the perpetrator? What as a culture are we getting wrong? Do we see ourselves going down any of the paths? Let’s be adults and work together to find answers, and make the answers work to find peace.

https://ucr.fbi.gov/crime-in-the-u.s/2019/crime-in-the-u.s.-2019/topic-pages/murder

https://www.usatoday.com/story/money/2020/01/13/most-dangerous-states-in-america-violent-crime-murder-rate/40968963/