I've been thinking a lot about justice lately, and the many sides it takes to get there. Working in a court for the last six months has been fascinating in many ways-- even though it's just class B and C misdemeanors, it's a side of life I've never been acquainted with beyond a traffic ticket or two. Let me tell you, there is a shocking amount of shoplifting going on. Wal-mart, Smith's, and all the other stores that have ever examined my receipts are not being paranoid. One lady took a birthday cake and when the judge asked her why she said, "It was my birthday."
I'm such a Lawful Good alignment that it can be difficult for me to imagine what would lead to a person to become a repeat offender. Some of the defendants come in and clearly have drug problems and/or mental health problems. It's really sad. It can also be frustrating trying to explain the system to them, and being yelled at for your trouble. I'm trying to help you! But in their mind I'm the face of The Law, and that has come to have a very negative connotation for them.
Sitting at the clerks' table keeping minutes for a bench trial yesterday, I was struck by how the trial is a triangle, with all three sides being crucial: the police (the state), the legal defenders (lawyers), and the judge (or jury).
I've been pretty vocal in the past about my strong belief that the police system is flawed, and that police brutality is unfortunately still a real threat to minorities, especially black men. This is still true. But it is not now, nor has it ever been true, that I am anti-police. Working in the court you talk to a lot of officers. The overwhelming impression I've gotten is one of duty and truly trying to protect and serve the community. My stance that body cams should be much more widely used, and wrongful violence should have immediate negative consequences is not saying, "All officers are like this." It's because the vast majority aren't, and they should be protected from the bad apples.
Being a member of the police force is like being part of a family that literally risks their life, and that bond is tighter than anything most of us can imagine. They see the seedy, crime underbelly of the city, and that can be a jaded perspective, but I believe that most honestly want to help improve things. That may be through arresting or charging people, which obviously the defendants don't see as a positive thing.
That brings us to the second point of the triangle, the defense. Legal defenders do a lot of work in my court, because we have a lot of low income people who wouldn't be able to afford an attorney of their own. Watching Hillary, our legal defender, work is amazing. She's clearly not in law for the money, she's in it for heart. She fights for people who have no legal experience, no idea what's going on. She stands at the podium and turns into a force of nature arguing for burden of proof and chain of custody and saying, this isn't what happened. They shouldn't be convicted. She stands up for people who would otherwise not know where to start with a defense. She also sees the lowest of the low, but she doesn't see the solution in incarceration.
Sometimes she wins, sometimes the state wins. But they both are crucial, two sides of the same coin. The third, deciding factor is the judge or jury. This must be a neutral position. These rulings must not be tainted by emotion or bias. The judge knows the law, and can only rule by what has been proved in court. The jury is carefully selected and given strict instructions about what can and cannot be considered. Our judge is an amazing lady, the first black judge in Utah. She doesn't allow emotion to color her rulings, she explains them all with cold, hard logic. I love her.
I'm in a play, 12 Angry Jurors. It's a gender mixed version of the 1957 film 12 Angry Men. A man is on trial for murder. What's a reasonable doubt? What is more important- the life of the murdered man or the life of the accused murderer? The play is set in 1963, and my job gives me a great appreciation for how much hasn't changed, in this regard. Almost everything else is radically different than it was in the sixties. But the law-- the lawyers, the prosecution, the verdict-- the process is still the same. The judicial branch is the most impartial of the three branches of government, and it is crucial to preserving law and order.
I have a lot that I could say-- about how oddly emotional I've gotten after helping someone understand what an arraignment is, or being told, "I was scared to come to court, but it wasn't so bad." We've seen tons of societies with corrupt justice systems, and the law is a joke. The Gilbert & Sullivan show Justin and I did this summer was exactly like that. Justin played a corrupt (typical for the era) judge who sings, "All thieves who could my fees afford/ Relied on my orations/ And many a burglar I've restored to his friends and his relations!" It was funny, but if that was our reality, how terrifying.
The law is not a matter of emotion, it's fact. Even on the lowest level, where I work, it has to be neutral. The state brings officers to testify for the prosecution, the legal defender cross examines and speaks for the defense, and the judge or jury rules on the matter. We HAVE to be able to trust our judges.
It's important. It's really, really important.
