Alarm Bells No One Heard

On December 13th, 2025, two students, Mukhammad Aziz Umurzokov and Ella Cook were murdered in a school shooting at Brown University, with nine other students injured, and a community terrorized. The gunman, a former Brown Engineering student during the early 2000s, entered a classroom in the Barus and Holley Engineering building, where students studied for their final exams just shy of winter break. 

Brown University sits on Narragansett land in Providence, Rhode Island, and like many elite institutions in the United States, it was built with wealth tied to the Atlantic slave trade and the labor of enslaved people. In recent years, Indigenous activists have reclaimed portions of land formerly owned by the university, part of a broader Land Back movement challenging the legacy of settler institutions.In historically contextualizing Brown University, the violent and tragic event of December 13th can be understood as occurring at an institution with violent and tragic origins. 

A Continuation of Exploitation, and a Practice of Silencing 

Behind Brown University’s status as an elite Ivy League institution is a long history of labor disputes and accusations of exploiting the workers who keep the campus running. Between 2023 and 2024, “Brown faced the most new federal Unfair Labor Practice charges in the Ivy League,” with 15 cases listing the school as a defendant. The University’s labor environment is marked by stagnant wages, poor working conditions, and intimidation tactics against employees. 

Despite an ever increasing tuition of $74,568, and the University President’s salary sitting at more than $3.1 million, a 700% increase since 2012, conditions for the University’s low-wage workers have remained subpar at best. Recently during a historic blizzard, with the largest snowfall recorded in Providence, Brown University dining hall staff were made to sleep in cots, previously given hotel rooms or campus housing during inclement weather. 12 active labor unions at Brown University  represent a myriad of workers, including graduate and undergraduate students, service staff, and security. 

As for security services, much of this sector is contracted out by the University to third parties, a tactic commonly used by large institutions to evade meeting adequate working standards and conditions. For the past two decades, “Brown has pursued a policy of outsourcing low-wage labor.” In a report published by The Indy, one contracted security worker sold his blood twice a week to sustain a living given his meager wages.

In October of 2025, the Brown University Security Patrolperson’s Association, a union representing campus police officers, security officers, and building guards, issued a vote of no confidence in Brown University Police Chief Rodney Chatman and Deputy Chief John Vinson. Following the school shooting of December 13th, Police Chief Rodney Chatman was placed on administrative leave. As outlined by the Brown student publication The Daily Herald, the statement released by the union cited a “deep concern among the membership regarding the direction and leadership of the Department of Public Safety,” including the reorganization of the department to increase the number of administrative positions, fear of retaliation, technology failures, and a toxic workplace environment. Prior, in August of 2025, the union issued another unanimous vote of no confidence based on “serious concerns over the failed leadership, contract violations, and policies that jeopardize public safety and the sergeant’s well-being.” In this former vote of no confidence, issues such as a breakdown in the relationship between campus security and the Providence Police department, staff shortages, decreases in morale, violations of state law, and retaliation were also cited. 

Earlier in the year, before the votes of no confidence, Brown’s Department of Public Safety employees raised alarming safety concerns regarding bomb and shooting threats. As per workers, the Department of Public Safety altered written reports and did not “adequately [disclose] information to the Brown community regarding these threats.” 

When employees attempted to escalate these issues, they were ultimately dismissed by management. In at least two shooting or bomb threats made against the school since 2021, workers' concerns were not taken seriously, and the threats were not addressed well or at all by higher ups. This trajectory would continue into November and December of 2025, when a worker tried to ring the alarms again. 

Alarm Bells Rung with No One Listening

I spoke with Derek Lisi, a custodial staffperson at Brown University, primarily assigned to the Engineering Research Center, just behind the Barus and Holley building where the December 13th shooting unfolded. Lisi began working at Brown University 15 years ago, having worked in construction beforehand. “This place has changed since when I started,” Lisi opened with. He went on to describe feeling part of a tight-knit community when he first started, with friendly supervisors who he felt wanted to see him and other colleagues do well, “[they] wanted you to make it.” Now, Lisi, a unionized staff member who often finds himself having to stick up for people, sees that everything has become “more business oriented…it’s run like a business.” Custodial staff have become micromanaged, constantly watched, and, in Lisi’s words, “the brunt of the blame.” Despite his treatment, Lisi never stopped fulfilling his role as a member of Brown’s community, looking out for others, especially when something “feels off.” 

Lisi first spotted the would-be shooter on Brown’s campus in November of 2025. “I don’t know how no one noticed the guy. Maybe people are afraid to speak. I got a lot of intuition.” While taking out the trash, Lisi would see the individual walking in and out of the building, and peering into classrooms. He saw the shooter again on December 5th, and, feeling suspicious about his presence, decided to follow him. “We’re told to clean and that’s it, not do security stuff,” Lisi said, but his gut feeling told him to defy his instructions. Lisi pretended to take out the trash so that he could follow the individual, when the man noticed him and started walking away quickly. At around 8:45 in the evening, Lisi found a security member, who was later found to be employed by Event Staff Services (ESS), a third party security company contracted by the University.“I told [the ESS security personnel], ‘Something is weird about that guy — go check on him,’” Lisi said. The guard responded that he wasn’t there to investigate and had instead been assigned to monitor a pro-Palestine protest that ultimately never took place. Brown University, like many U.S. campuses, has also cracked down on pro-Palestinian student protests, arresting, reprimanding, and suspending students calling for divestment.

On December 13, 2025, two students were killed and nine others injured when the man Lisi had flagged weeks earlier opened fire in a classroom. The shooting occurred on a Saturday. Lisi called the FBI tip line immediately after the public release of limited surveillance footage, which was scarce due to the lack of cameras in the building. During the five-day search for the shooter, he attempted to contact the tip line 11 times before finally getting through. Someone followed up with him the following Monday, when he provided a description of the individual and his encounters with him. Lisi later learned that before contacting him, the FBI had first called the Brown Police Department “to see if I am someone that would lie.” A whistleblower later said delays were caused when federal investigators were unable to fly from Washington, D.C., to Rhode Island and were instead forced to drive following mismanagement by FBI Director Kash Patel.

 “[The school] didn’t care about what I had to say about anything,” Lisi said in reflecting on how he felt when he learned that he encountered the shooter and tried to raise his concerns. ESS is still contracted by Brown University. Aside from one school employee, no one from the university contacted Lisi to check his wellbeing following the incident, or to ask follow-up questions. Several reports were made about the lack of security of the building long before this, Lisi explained. “We complained about this building being open access, anyone can walk in…Why won’t they admit there were no cameras? The security was real lax for a long time here.”

The Aftermath

I also spoke with a Brown University student, who opted to remain anonymous. In reflecting on how their school handled the aftermath of the shooting, “it’s deeply frustrating,” they began. “I don’t even want to say negligence, because it feels purposeful. They choose to spend their money on certain things — school safety is deeply underfunded, but they choose to invest in genocidal companies.” 

In the months after the tragic event, Lisi described an increased police presence on campus, with questions about the source of funding for such resources, given the many budget cuts made by the school in recent years. The student said they opposed the university’s increased policing and questioned whether it actually improved safety. “They’re not even doing that correctly,” they said. “You can still get into buildings, they’re not checking bags at events. It’s not working and it’s very performative.” Instead, the student said the increased police presence has made the campus feel less safe. “Outside various student-centered buildings, there’s a police car almost all day with its lights on,” they said. “The way they’re moving, you’d think the students did something wrong. There’s no regard for how students feel about the heightened police presence.”

The student pointed to practical safety measures the university could implement instead, such as expanding shuttle services. “I rely on off-campus shuttles a lot,” they said. “Sometimes it takes me an hour to get a ride because there aren’t enough shuttles.”

The ongoing FBI investigation is unfolding under a federal administration that has increasingly targeted universities over campus protests and diversity initiatives. Critics, including civil liberties organizations and faculty groups, say the campaign reflects an anti-intellectual push to discipline universities and suppress dissent on issues like Gaza. Over the summer, Brown University capitulated to the Trump administration in a standoff over federal funding, wherein the school eventually agreed to a $50 million deal, requiring Brown to make reactionary and surface-level investments into the Providence community, suppress Palestinian advocacy further, and adopt anti-trans policies. 

In the same breath, “if the FBI wasn’t investigating [the shooting],” Lisi explained, “ Brown is very quick to sweep things under the rug. They want this to go away, and they want to escape this, but they can’t. It's too big.” The student also spoke about the federal investigation, expressing frustration that parts of the campus community had not responded with greater outrage toward the institution. “Not enough people are upset at Brown. Not many people are seeing that the federal government and Brown are on the same side.” 

In the aftermath of the shooting, the university launched Ever True, a campus initiative intended to address the events of December 13 with mental health resources and new safety plans. “In the beginning, it felt wholesome,” the student said. “But over time it started to feel very disingenuous. It’s another way for people to praise the institution when it needs to be held accountable.”

Brown the institution has rushed to establish a sense of normalcy, but Brown the community has not moved on. “No amount of money is going to bring an individual back,” Lisi said in reflecting on Ella Cook and Mukhammad Aziz Umurzokov, the two students who tragically lost their lives. “[The school should install] a memorial or a plaque…I don’t think they’re going to. Those people in corporate don’t care.” 

While Lisi cannot help but wonder whether he could have done more, he also knows the shooter appeared determined to carry out an act of mass violence — and that it should not be the responsibility of community members to compensate for institutional failures. The university’s efforts to silence workers and protect its image ultimately exposed the campus community to a level of violence that will remain etched in its memory. The Brown community now joins countless others in the United States who have feared for their lives in places of learning, and a wider global population shaped by war, gun violence, and militarism driven by profit.

Powerful institutions often project an image of benevolent leadership while the underpaid workers and community members who actually look out for others are ignored or sidelined. “I was at a [basketball game],” Lisi said, “ the mayor and the [Providence Police chief] are there, standing up and getting a round of applause. Oh good job. Good job? Where? Two kids died, kids are traumatized, but you did good jobs. I always knew what they thought of me, but now I really know.”

The anonymous student also criticized the university’s treatment of staff after the shooting, pointing to a recent incident in which dining hall workers were made to sleep on cots during a blizzard. “The way they continue to treat staff at this school, despite the fact that they were the ones that made sure people were fed and taken care of during the lockdown, it’s such a slap in the face because the school made this really big show to thank them, but what they really need is respect.”

The student also reflected on their wellbeing after the shooting. “I look over my shoulder more,” they said. “Especially with ICE present in Providence, it adds to the feeling of being unsafe.” While some of their peers have experienced multiple school shootings or other instances of gun violence, for many, “it’s uncharted territory. It’s a confusing time for me…people just don’t know what to do.”

For Lisi, coming into direct contact with the shooter has left him with a feeling of unease. “I locked eyes with a murderer. It’s weird. I get an eerie feeling coming here.”