By OBBM Network Editorial Staff

Derived from an episode of Locked In With Ian Bick.

What does it feel like to join a street gang at seven, watch siblings fight over rival colors, and later spend a decade behind bars? In a candid conversation with Ian Bick, Curtis “Rolex” Carter Phillip recounts a life shaped by the harsh realities of Roosevelt, Queens. From early exposure to guns and drugs, through a brief stint in high school football, to a misguided plea that landed him in a federal RICO case, his story offers a raw look at how community, family dynamics, and limited resources can push youth toward crime.

Growing Up in a Neighborhood Where Gangs Were the Norm

Phillip describes his childhood as “just like any other kid growing up, want to play sports, have fun,” but quickly adds that his world was also saturated with “early drugs, guns, things like that.” Living on Roosevelt Avenue, the neighborhood was a patchwork of rival crews. “My brothers, I have an older brother, a stepbrother. He was a blub. My other brother was an outlaw. And then my sister was a Crip,” he explains, noting that despite each sibling’s affiliation, family ties outweighed gang loyalty. The constant banter—calling each other “Blood” or “Crip”—was more teasing than hatred, yet it gave Phillip a front‑row seat to the competing ideologies that defined his block.

By the early 2000s, local cliques such as “Wolfpack,” “Certified,” and the self‑started “G.I.N.” were the social fabric of his community. He joined his first group, Wolfpack, at about seven or eight years old, often hanging out with older relatives and neighbors who were already entrenched in street life. “It was no different than fraternities or things like that,” he says, framing the gangs as a form of camaraderie rather than pure criminality.

School, Sports, and the Thin Line Between Opportunity and Trouble

Phillip’s academic record was modest; he describes himself as “decent in school, not the best, but not the worst.” Limited resources at home—no computers, few extracurricular options—meant that many of his peers found solace either in the streets or on the football field. He dreamed of becoming a wide receiver, a goal that briefly offered a positive outlet. However, in Roosevelt, the worlds of sports and gangs often overlapped. “A lot of the people that was in sports was also in gangs,” he notes, illustrating how athletic talent alone could not shield him from the surrounding violence.

Coaches and teachers “always try to steer us into the right path,” yet Phillip acknowledges that the ultimate decision lay with the youth themselves. When he finally left middle school after ninth grade, a looming sense of inevitability pushed him toward a fateful night that would alter his trajectory.

The First Arrest and a Misguided Plea

At sixteen, Phillip was arrested for a robbery he insists he did not commit. Pressured by older brothers who warned him against probation—a “trap” in their view—he accepted a plea deal that offered eight months in Nassau County Correctional Center instead of a potential six‑year sentence. “It felt cool? Nah, it was never cool to go to jail,” he reflects, underscoring the harsh reality that the criminal justice system often leaves young offenders with limited choices.

The experience in the juvenile facility introduced him to a street organization called Certified, which, unlike the formal gang he’d known, was a loose collection of neighborhood kids. “I got into a lot of fights that year,” he recalls, noting that many such groups eventually fizzle out as members drift apart. The eight‑month stint, however, cemented a self‑fulfilling prophecy: “Now I’m already a criminal, I’m already labeled. Even though I didn’t do something, I might as well commit crime because if I’m going to jail for somebody else’s crime, I might as well go to jail for my own.”

Federal RICO Charges and a Decade Behind Bars

While battling liver failure that required a transplant, Phillip faced a federal RICO indictment that resulted in a ten‑year prison sentence. The severity of the charge highlights how local gang activity can spiral into federal prosecution, especially when authorities target organized crime networks. During his incarceration, Phillip’s health struggles continued, but the experience also forced a period of introspection.

He admits that his decision to take the plea in his first case set a pattern that led deeper into the criminal justice system. “I should have never copped out. I should have gone to trial even if I would have lost. I wouldn’t have ended up in the situation that I ended up in,” he says, expressing regret over a path he now sees as avoidable.

Lessons Learned and the Road Ahead

Phillip’s story is a stark reminder of how socioeconomic deprivation, familial dynamics, and community culture intersect to shape life outcomes. He stresses that early exposure to gang life is often less about hatred and more about survival and belonging. “Initially, you don’t look at it like that. You look at it as your friends and y’all sticking together,” he explains, highlighting the misguided perception of gang membership as a form of protection.

Looking forward, Phillip hopes his narrative can serve as a cautionary tale for parents, educators, and policymakers. By improving access to resources—computers, after‑school programs, mentorship—communities like Roosevelt might offer alternatives that steer youth away from the streets. As he puts it, “It’s ultimately the kid’s decision, but the environment plays a huge role.”

Phillip’s journey from a seven‑year‑old gang member to a federal inmate underscores the urgent need for community‑focused interventions that address the root causes of gang affiliation. While his past cannot be erased, his reflections provide valuable insight into breaking the cycle of violence and incarceration for future generations.

The full episode of Locked In With Ian Bick is available on OBBM Network TV.