Generate an explanation for the given claim using the provided supporting material from the paragraph. Please consider the following points while generating an output. 1) The claim will always have supporting proof in the paragraph, and the paragraph will have a clear point of view supporting the claim. 2) There can be instances where direct correlation to the claim is not available. Make use of the sentences in the paragraph to provide a corresponding output supporting the claim. 3) The explanation should be at least one and at most twelve sentences long.

Paragraph: The American Civil Liberties Union's Rhode Island chapter announced Friday it filed a federal class action lawsuit with Disability Rights Rhode Island and the ACLU's National Prison Project, alleging constitutional violations of the rights of prisoners with serious mental illness. The suit was filed on behalf of inmates. Corrections Department spokesman J.R. Ventura says they've trained staff on best practices and partnered across state agencies to guarantee high-quality mental health care. He says they "strongly dispute" the ACLU's claims. The suit accuses the department of subjecting people with serious and persistent mental illness to prolonged solitary confinement, despite knowing the serious risk of harm these conditions pose. It seeks changes to how inmates are housed. Claim: Lawsuit filed over treatment of inmates with mental illness.
Civil liberties advocates are suing the Rhode Island prisons department over its treatment of inmates with mental illness.

Paragraph: Roy treads carefully as the water rises to his knees, seeming for a moment to lose sight of his prey. Then in one swift action he steps back, takes aim and shatters the outback calm, and a crocodile, with a single booming shotgun blast. I am definitely not in Sydney anymore. For more than 10 years I have dreamed of photographing the daily lives of Aboriginal Australians in the northern-most tip of the Northern Territory, Australia's rugged "Top End". Their Arnhem Land reserve - closer to Bali than Sydney - covers an area of around 97,000 sq km (37,500 sq miles), has a population of around 16,000 and access for non-Aborigines is by invitation only. Australia's Aborigines are the custodians of the longest unbroken cultural tradition on Earth, having migrated Down Under from Africa via Asia between 40,000 and 60,000 years ago, and connection to the land is practically written into their DNA. But the arrival of European settlers in the 18th century marked the beginning of a painful disenfranchisement. Massacres are still tearfully remembered and today the majority of Aborigines live in abject poverty. Last year, while on patrol with the Indigenous Australian Army unit known as NORFORCE, I met Sergeant Norman Daymirringu, a Yolngu Aborigine, who invited me to go hunting with him near Ramingining, located a bumpy and dusty 600 km drive east of Darwin. Norman is allowed by tradition to share his ancient culture with those he deems worthy, and I was honoured to have been told the Yolngu people's creation stories and shown their sacred sites. But entering Arnhem Land as a "White Fella" means changing gears and seeing the world through a completely different set of eyes, a great challenge for a photographer. For example, an outsider might struggle to understand a site such as "Dog's Tongue", an orange rock amid a barren salt pan, but for Norman it is an integral part of the creation of the universe. The rock has tipped over from its normal position and Norman, as custodian of the land, affords me the rare honor of watching as he puts it back in place, where it has stood for countless millennia. At Yathalamarra, a community consisting of around a dozen houses, we pick up some relatives for the hunt and head on foot to an isolated billabong. With the sun blazing and temperatures reaching 40 degrees Celsius, or 104 Fahrenheit, I am getting pessimistic, when suddenly Roy fires his shotgun. At his feet lies a dead crocodile. Roy pulls the beast from the water, while Marcus keeps lookout. Not far from the shoreline the water starts moving. Suddenly Marcus pounces and, from just beneath the surface, he pulls another crocodile, this one a bleating baby. Roy is nervous about crossing the billabong carrying a heavy dead crocodile, but wanders downstream and grabs a boat hidden in the bushes. Using a stick as a paddle he navigates towards us, throwing the two crocs onto the muddy shore. Wow, its over, I think. We can head off with a great catch and potential feast awaiting. Roy has other ideas: "It's easier to carry them without all that skin," he tells me. Any butcher would have been extremely impressed with the skill he showed at filleting this massive beast. The baby was carried out alive. As we are leaving, Roy wraps the intestines in leaves, as nothing that can be eaten is wasted, and he and his sons walk the few kilometers back to the car with crocodile meat and a goanna lizard slung over their shoulders. As for me, I walked away with a unique insight into their culture and some photographs that not many others have had the privilege of taking. Claim: Hunting for pictures, and crocodiles, in remote Aboriginal country.
We are deep in a forest crowded by Australian paperback trees, the air thick with humidity but eerily silent save for the screeching of tropical birds, when Marcus shouts: "Look, crocodiles!" As a Reuters photojournalist, I'm a trained observer, but I can't see any crocs. I can't see anything beyond mud and what little water is left in the small billabong. Aboriginal hunters Marcus and Roy, a father and son team, take off running past a herd of water buffalo and by the time I catch up Roy is standing ankle-deep in murky water, his shotgun pointed at the surface. Hang on a minute: wasn't your son pointing at crocodiles in that water ten seconds ago? Is this safe?

Paragraph: "Harrowing images of wooden caskets being lowered into mass graves in New York City circulated on social media as the city responded to the COVID-19 pandemic. The images and related video footage are accurate depictions of recent burials on Hart Island in the Long Island Sound. That said, there have been some misconceptions about the mass graves. Posts about the grave site were flagged as part of Facebook's efforts to combat false news and misinformation on its News Feed. (Read more about our partnership with Facebook.) First, mass burials didn't begin on Hart Island during the COVID-19 pandemic. The city has used the location as a public cemetery for over 150 years, burying unclaimed people and those whose loved ones can't afford private burials. Second, not all locals who die from COVID-19 are being buried there, as some posts have suggested. The site is still designated for deceased people with no known next of kin. But as the city struggles with the mounting death toll amid the pandemic, burials on the island have dramatically increased in recent weeks. There are usually about 25 burials on the island each week, the New York mayor's press secretary Freddie Goldstein told CNN. But that number has climbed to nearly 25 each day. The island's interment operation is managed by the city's Department of Correction, and inmates usually assist in the burials. But that has changed since the pandemic. DOC spokesperson Jason Kersten has said that city inmates are not currently involved with the burials: ""For social distancing and safety reasons, city-sentenced people in custody are not assisting in burials for the duration of the pandemic. Contracted laborers are performing this important work under DOC supervision,"" according to a report by the Gothamist. Bodies are ordinarily held at the city's morgues anywhere from 30 to 60 days, Goldstein said. But to make room for the influx of deceased individuals during the pandemic, the city's medical examiner's office announced a new policy of holding unclaimed bodies for only up to 15 days before they are transferred to the island. New York City's Hart Island has been used as a public cemetery for unclaimed bodies since the 1800s, but the city's staggering death toll amid the COVID-19 pandemic has dramatically increased the number of burials on the island. Social media posts about the burials are mostly accurate, but many need additional information." Claim: Images show COVID-19 victims being buried in mass graves in New York City.
Photos and video footage showing dozens of caskets being buried in large trenches on Hart Island in New York City are legitimate. Not all local COVID-19 victims are being automatically buried there. The site has been used by the city since the 19th century as a public cemetery for unclaimed people and those whose families can't afford private burials.