Maybe it's just a Southern thing. When a young black person gets in trouble and there's a concerned, non-family member white person who feels compelled to jump into the fray and protect the young black person. In the instance I'm thinking about, I heard from a client's church youth group leader, Ms. Dupree, last week. Great name for the white lady with the thick as peanut butter southern accent. Eudora Welty could have written her dialogue.
So Ms. Dupree called me to talk to me about her protege. I called her back and she said she had the client's mother on the other line. "Ah told her, no offense, but [Client X] is just dumb." She talked about my client and his family. "Theyah good people. Not church people, but theyah workin' people." Oh, my. Ms. Dupree's hierarchy: 1. God; 2. Church People; 3. Working People; 4. No Account People; 5. Trash.
She talked about taking my client to church with her. "He'd just call an' beg me to take him to church." A teen-aged boy begging to go to church with a white woman? I'm thinking a buffet lunch after church was involved. Or a ride to and from church in a really nice car.
Ms. Dupree related my client's phone call from jail (unclear if he called her or his parents) in which he detailed the events that resulted in his arrest. (As an aside, I love it when clients tell their whole story on the jailhouse phone. You know, the phone that tells you before you even get connected to the other party that your call is being recorded? Recorded for use in court against you by the District Attorney's office? So, no offense, but maybe Ms. Dupree was right about my client's mental ability.) Ms. Dupree related that my client tearfully told his parents that "he went with the othuh boys to buy, and I quote, 'weed'." I'm trying to listen to what she's saying, but I also thought: remember this, don't forget her phrasing, this is awesome. I also wished for the phone system we had when I worked in the PD's office in Tifton. Those phones had a record button and you could record any phone conversation allowing one to replay it, if one were so callous, to entertain co-workers with the crazy stuff people said to their or their family member's lawyer.
Without the record button on my phone, I had to go from office to office doing my impression of Ms. Dupree for my co-workers. I doubt I did her justice (pun intended).
We'll leave for another day an analysis of why I think it is okay to mock and ridicule people like Ms. Dupree. Today I want to think about the noblesse oblige angle of Ms. Dupree. Her phone call and conversation with me assumes that my client's mother and father are not capable of communicating with their son's lawyer or that they are ignorant of the need to do so. It is the manifestation of an antebellum mentality that a white person needs to step in and make sure this "good boy" is taken care of or he'll be ground into dust by the system. Her tone with me indicates that she thinks of us as a team, that I am complicit in her mission to take care of this "good boy". That he is not capable of taking care of himself and that his family is not capable of taking care of him. That we, as white people, have invented the system so we must guide other races through it because they cannot possibly navigate it on their own.
In these situations I do not, but I wonder whether I should, point out to the Ms. Duprees of the world how insulting their meddling behavior is. Is that my responsibility? I worry that by not pointing this out I am somehow complicit in what the Ms. Duprees are doing. Silence = Assent at some level, right? I believe Ms. Duprees mean well, but do their good intentions inoculate them against outrage at their paternalistic (or is it maternalistic?) and racist world view?
Monday, January 10, 2011
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Egocentricity
I have a client who keeps coming back. Okay, I have a lot of clients who keep coming back, but this guy is different from most. He's a soft-spoken, intelligent guy with full-blown AIDS (according to his self-diagnosis). He's an addict and he steals from people he knows, from people who trusted him. Every time he comes back he tells me how sorry he is that he is back and that he is making more work for me. Are you kidding me, dude? Your little penny ante crap case is barely a blip on my radar. What makes more work for me is when you call me multiple times per day from the jail and leave a message each time asking the same questions, telling me the same information, relaying the same delusional wishes, wanting me to talk to the same irrelevant people. That is work. That is a motivation suck. It's not your case, it is your perseverating freaking personality.
And speaking of perseverating, I had another client, a white guy in his 20s whose drug of choice is whatever you've got on hand, who called me for two days in a row every hour of the workday and left the same message each time he called. No kidding. 9:10 a.m.: "What have you heard about my plea deal?" 10:20 a.m.: "What have you heard about my plea deal?" 11:13 a.m.: "What have you heard about my plea deal?" And on and on and on for two solid days. Even if you felt the need to call every hour, what is the thought process that leads you to leave the exact same message every time you call? She'll call me back sooner if she knows I've put 15 messages on her voice mail? She'll definitely know what I want because I've left 15 messages that ask the same question? I do not know, cannot pretend to know, how this would ever seem like a good idea.
Dealing with addicts, as so many of our clients are, is incredibly difficult. Their brains have been damaged by drug abuse and they quite simply are not wired the same as those of us who think logically. The overriding characteristic is that of egocentricity. They are the center of the universe - theirs, their family's, and, they presume, mine. Even when I try to explain to them that they do not define my world, it's hopeless. They cannot understand.
And speaking of perseverating, I had another client, a white guy in his 20s whose drug of choice is whatever you've got on hand, who called me for two days in a row every hour of the workday and left the same message each time he called. No kidding. 9:10 a.m.: "What have you heard about my plea deal?" 10:20 a.m.: "What have you heard about my plea deal?" 11:13 a.m.: "What have you heard about my plea deal?" And on and on and on for two solid days. Even if you felt the need to call every hour, what is the thought process that leads you to leave the exact same message every time you call? She'll call me back sooner if she knows I've put 15 messages on her voice mail? She'll definitely know what I want because I've left 15 messages that ask the same question? I do not know, cannot pretend to know, how this would ever seem like a good idea.
Dealing with addicts, as so many of our clients are, is incredibly difficult. Their brains have been damaged by drug abuse and they quite simply are not wired the same as those of us who think logically. The overriding characteristic is that of egocentricity. They are the center of the universe - theirs, their family's, and, they presume, mine. Even when I try to explain to them that they do not define my world, it's hopeless. They cannot understand.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Why Do You Lie?
And tell me you have no prior convictions before a bond hearing where the ADA will have your GCIC? And tell me you have no idea why you were arrested when the police found you in someone else's house hiding in a closet with a pillow case full of electronics? And tell me you need to get out and help your sick mama/grandmama/wife/girlfriend/child when they say they haven't seen you in a month and do not know why you thought they were sick? And tell me that you are my client when you call me on the phone from the jail and you do not sound like my client and when I tell you that you are not my client, tell me that you are my client and you just have a cold? And tell me you will hire a paid lawyer when we both know we are stuck together?
Just wondering.
Just wondering.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
November 27, 2010 Defendin' ain't easy
My purpose for writing this blog is to record my interesting and funny experiences as a public defender. My memory is so crummy lately that I need to write stuff down in order to remember it. Wish I had started in 2005 when I started as a PD in Lagrange, GA, but better late than never.
I filed a habeas petition for a client and we finally had the hearing last week. I testifed for a couple of hours last Tuesday afternoon about my ineffectiveness in his case. I'm going to ask for a copy of the transcript for my personal Sherismithsonian (with acknowledgement for patterning my name after the Aerosmithsonian - unlike their collection, my archive does not include panties thrown at me. Thank goodness no panties have ever been thrown at me.) Testifying made for an interesting change. Elizabeth Grant represented my client and did her usual very thorough job. The prosecutor was Reed Newland who had worked in the PD's office before jumping ship earlier this year. I screwed up in this case by handling a guilty plea for my client in a statutory rape case soon after I'd inherited the caseload from another attorney who left our office. At the time I handled the plea, I should have known but did not know that the guy had some mental health issues and some functioning deficit issues. Since entering his plea, the guy has had 3 or 4 probation violations and 2 or three new charges for failure to register as a sex offender. No way this guy can ever successfully comply with the sex offender registration requirements. The only way to sort this out was to admit I'd screwed up and try ot undo the plea.
I'm a big proponent of admitting when I screw something up. It's always better to admit it yourself than to have to hear someone else say it first. Especially easy to admit screwing up in a situation like this one, where my admission of screwing up might actually help straighten out this guy's sentence. It's not like I don't mess things up on a regular basis being human and everything, but thank goodness most of my screw ups are not directly responsible for a negative consequence to my client. The worst part of the whole thing was how the judge, Reed, and Elizabeth all treated me about it. They all made sure to tell me that it gave them no pleasure to have to point out my failings. Umm, okay. Did they think that I would take this personally? I claimed ineffective on myself, people. Elizabeth said early and often that we as public defenders (and she as a former public defender) get put into impossible situations where we make mistakes. Yep. They seemed to be tiptoeing and buttering up to try to make sure I knew that they were not judging me for having screwed up.
It just felt weird.
The tiptoeing and buttering gave me the impression (incorrect, I'm sure, knowing all the people involved) that they all looked down on me but were carefully conspiring together to make sure I did not notice it. Why did it feel that way? Just the three against one logistics? I don't think so. In the courtroom everyone gangs up on the PDs: the judge, DA, cops, probation officers, some Clerks of Court (BL and that hag in Turner Co.), some court reporters (Hi, CW), alleged victims and their friends and family members, and last but not least our very own clients. As I said, I'm pretty sure Elizabeth, Reed, and the judge do not look down on me. The judge likes me and has complimented me on my performance at trial. Reed knows that given half a chance I can wipe up the floor with him. I think Elizabeth sees me as an equal, or at least in the same general zip code.
I just hope the judge lets this guy withdraw his plea. Then I assume someone else (sorry, Ryan) will have to unravel the rest of the mess.
This is already a longer post than I planned, but one more note about the events of last week. I experienced the uncomfortable vortex of a case where I really disliked my own client, I thought he was guilty as charged, and I really, really liked the alleged victim. Boy was that a mess. Thank goodness a completely irresistible plea offer was made. I did not want to try that case where I was going to be put into the position of making a very nice, very smart, very vulnerable and badly treated young person look like a manipulative liar to defend a client whom I believed to be a (extra points for the irony) manipulative liar. Yes, folks, it's the situation that all my non-pd friends believe I live on a daily basis. You know, the friends who say "How can you do that job?" This kind of situation occurs a lot less often than most people think. And that's a good thing, because I for one would have a hard time doing this job if I were in the vortex routinely. I disliked this client so much that I hated for him to even get such a good plea deal. He took the deal and the case is over. Amen.
I filed a habeas petition for a client and we finally had the hearing last week. I testifed for a couple of hours last Tuesday afternoon about my ineffectiveness in his case. I'm going to ask for a copy of the transcript for my personal Sherismithsonian (with acknowledgement for patterning my name after the Aerosmithsonian - unlike their collection, my archive does not include panties thrown at me. Thank goodness no panties have ever been thrown at me.) Testifying made for an interesting change. Elizabeth Grant represented my client and did her usual very thorough job. The prosecutor was Reed Newland who had worked in the PD's office before jumping ship earlier this year. I screwed up in this case by handling a guilty plea for my client in a statutory rape case soon after I'd inherited the caseload from another attorney who left our office. At the time I handled the plea, I should have known but did not know that the guy had some mental health issues and some functioning deficit issues. Since entering his plea, the guy has had 3 or 4 probation violations and 2 or three new charges for failure to register as a sex offender. No way this guy can ever successfully comply with the sex offender registration requirements. The only way to sort this out was to admit I'd screwed up and try ot undo the plea.
I'm a big proponent of admitting when I screw something up. It's always better to admit it yourself than to have to hear someone else say it first. Especially easy to admit screwing up in a situation like this one, where my admission of screwing up might actually help straighten out this guy's sentence. It's not like I don't mess things up on a regular basis being human and everything, but thank goodness most of my screw ups are not directly responsible for a negative consequence to my client. The worst part of the whole thing was how the judge, Reed, and Elizabeth all treated me about it. They all made sure to tell me that it gave them no pleasure to have to point out my failings. Umm, okay. Did they think that I would take this personally? I claimed ineffective on myself, people. Elizabeth said early and often that we as public defenders (and she as a former public defender) get put into impossible situations where we make mistakes. Yep. They seemed to be tiptoeing and buttering up to try to make sure I knew that they were not judging me for having screwed up.
It just felt weird.
The tiptoeing and buttering gave me the impression (incorrect, I'm sure, knowing all the people involved) that they all looked down on me but were carefully conspiring together to make sure I did not notice it. Why did it feel that way? Just the three against one logistics? I don't think so. In the courtroom everyone gangs up on the PDs: the judge, DA, cops, probation officers, some Clerks of Court (BL and that hag in Turner Co.), some court reporters (Hi, CW), alleged victims and their friends and family members, and last but not least our very own clients. As I said, I'm pretty sure Elizabeth, Reed, and the judge do not look down on me. The judge likes me and has complimented me on my performance at trial. Reed knows that given half a chance I can wipe up the floor with him. I think Elizabeth sees me as an equal, or at least in the same general zip code.
I just hope the judge lets this guy withdraw his plea. Then I assume someone else (sorry, Ryan) will have to unravel the rest of the mess.
This is already a longer post than I planned, but one more note about the events of last week. I experienced the uncomfortable vortex of a case where I really disliked my own client, I thought he was guilty as charged, and I really, really liked the alleged victim. Boy was that a mess. Thank goodness a completely irresistible plea offer was made. I did not want to try that case where I was going to be put into the position of making a very nice, very smart, very vulnerable and badly treated young person look like a manipulative liar to defend a client whom I believed to be a (extra points for the irony) manipulative liar. Yes, folks, it's the situation that all my non-pd friends believe I live on a daily basis. You know, the friends who say "How can you do that job?" This kind of situation occurs a lot less often than most people think. And that's a good thing, because I for one would have a hard time doing this job if I were in the vortex routinely. I disliked this client so much that I hated for him to even get such a good plea deal. He took the deal and the case is over. Amen.
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