Friday, February 03, 2006

Calling It Quits

Anyone who has checked my blog in the past few weeks will have noticed the lack of recent posts. I've been very busy at work and at home. As much as I would like to blame my lack of posting on my schedule, I realize this is just an excuse. Other bloggers have the exact same demanding job as I do, as well as greater family responsibilities, yet they find the time to post. If I am honest with myself, I realize that I am simply not finding time to post.

One of my problems is that I have struggled over the past month to come up with topics on which to post. The public defender/criminal law blogosphere is full of interesting niches, all of which I consider to be amply covered by excellent bloggers. Some post primarily about developments in criminal law in general or about a specific area of the law. Others act as editors, providing us with interesting public defender and criminal law stories from around the country, along with their considerable insights on them. Still others provide fascinating war stories from their personal lives and from their work.

It is in this last area that I hoped to find my place. However, as I sat down in front of my computer, I realized that I was unwilling to share my personal life with complete strangers. This didn't bother me because I thought that my job as a public defender would provide me with plenty of interesting stories to share on the blog. It did. Being a public defender provides one with a few heart-warming and amusing stories and many compelling, heart-breaking stories. The problem is confidentiality.

The confidentiality paradox is this: While a story that provides few details protects a client's confidentiality, it rarely is interesting to its reader. While a story that provides a lot of detail is interesting to its reader, it does not adequately protect confidentiality.

I still have great stories and I get more everyday. However, I am unable to share them with you, even from behind the cloak of anonymity. Some bloggers have been able strike that balance between protecting client confidentiality and providing interesting content. I respect the bloggers who are able to do this, but I can not.

The truth is, what I have learned over the past couple months is that I enjoy reading public defender blogs far more than I enjoy trying to write one. I enjoy being a public defender much more than I enjoy writing about it.

So that's it. I can not say for certain that I won't try this again in the future, but this will be my last post for a while. I leave with an even greater admiration for the public defender/criminal law blog community than I had when I began. I want to thank all of you for welcoming me into your community so readily. It has been a pleasure receiving your e-mails and comments, your insights and encouragement. I still plan to continue to visit all of your blogs which inspired me to take a stab at blogging in the first place.

Thank you for reading by blog.

-Mike

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

The Prison Experience


I clicked on two articles tonight that I thought go together nicely.

First, David at Indefensible had a great post on January 13 (sorry, the perma-link seems to be broken) referencing a New York Times article about a Minnesota judge being sent to prison and facing some of the very inmates whose sentences he either ordered or upheld. Of course, he discovers the true nature of the prisons to which he's been sentencing people.

I also found this article, about a questionable study on prison rape.

SAN FRANCISCO - A bitterly disputed, government-sponsored study has concluded that rape and sexual assault behind bars may be rampant in movies and books but are rare in real life.

When inmates have sex, it is usually by choice, and often engaged in as a way to win protection or privileges, said Mark Fleisher, a cultural anthropologist who specializes in prisons and crime at Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland.


...

“To take the position that it’s not a problem and prisons are safe places is asinine,” said Reggie B. Walton, a federal judge and chairman of the National Prison Rape Elimination Commission, set up under a 2003 federal law. He said Fleisher’s conclusions are “totally inconsistent” with what he has learned during 30 years in the criminal justice system.

Based on my admittedly limited experience with my incarcerated clients, I have to agree with Judge Walton, rather than Professor Fleisher.

My anecdotal evidence aside, the article outlines several details that undermine the credibility of the study. Professor Fleisher conducted no literature review, provided no explanation of his methodology, and refuses to share the data supporting the conclusions.

And, oh yeah, the study confirms his previously held belief that prison rape isn't all that common:

He said his findings were no surprise to him, though he admitted his conclusion “flies in the face of what everyone believes.”

Sure thing, Professor.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Viva la New Jersey!

Say what you want about New Jersey, but I think it's a damn good state.

I went to law school in Philadelphia, just across the river from New Jersey and I visited the Garden State many times over those three years. The boardwalk-lined beaches are beautiful. It's the home state of Frank Sinatra, Bruce Springsteen, and Bon Jovi.

And now, they've stopped executing people.

Thanks to Karl at Capital Defense Weekly, who was there to witness the moment personally. Check out his post.

Native Americans in Child Protection

The Rapid City Journal is running a two part article on the interaction between the Native American community and South Dakota's child protection system.

Part One
Law seeks to keep children's tribal identity intact
Editor’s note: This is the first in a two-part series of stories about placement of American
Indian children removed from their homes. Tomorrow: Commission prompts improvements.

By Steve Miller, Journal Staff Writer

As an American Indian boy growing up in Ainsworth, Neb., Dwayne Stenstrom knew he was different from everybody else. And not in a good way.

In 1968, when he was 8 years old, Stenstrom was taken from his mother on the Winnebago Reservation in eastern Nebraska. She had a drinking problem. He and an older brother were placed in foster homes, ending up with white foster parents in Ainsworth.


Part Two
State improving compliance with Indian Child Welfare Act
By Steve Miller, Journal Staff Writer

The article focuses on the identity issues caused when a Native American child is removed from his birth parents and placed with a non-Native American family. In 1978, Congress passed a law called the Indian Child Welfare Act (ICWA) in an attempt to combat this problem. However, critics of South Dakota's system say that state officials are not complying with ICWA. Two years ago, the state formed a commission to investigate the problem.

ICWA can give rise to some awkward moments in our courtroom. When a new case comes into our court, the State is obligated to investigate whether ICWA's requirements might apply to that case. The first time a parent appears in court, the prosecutor asks the parent a series of background questions. Name, address, date of birth, etc.

The next question often prompts some puzzled looks and funny answers if I don't have a chance to warn my client that it will be asked:

Prosecutor: Are you or any member of your family a member of any Native American tribe?
Parent: Um....Do I look Indian to you?

No. No, she doesn't. She actually looks very white/black/Asian. But if I don't warn my clients about the question ahead of time, they make a face that seems to say "Why the hell would you ask me that question?" and often say something inappropriate.

Of course, aside from the technicality that the State has to make a good faith inquiry into ICWA issues, there is also the practicality that one's heritage is not always apparent from looking at them. For every ten confused looks or sarcastic answers, we get at least one person telling us that, yes, she is 1/2 Native American.

Other good responses I've witnessed have been:

Prosecutor: Are you or any member of your family a member of any Native American tribe?
Parent: Yes, I'm a U.S. citizen.

Prosecutor: Are you or any member of your family a member of any Native American tribe?
Parent: What does that mean?
Prosecutor: Do you have any Native American ancestry?
Parent: Huh? What is Native American?
Prosecutor: [stammering, trying with all his might to resist the urge to put one finger behind his head and start chanting "woo-woo woo-woo"] Um, I mean, are you Indian?
Parent: Oh. No.

Friday, January 06, 2006

Everyone's a Critic

Man held for hitting urinal work
A 77-year-old Frenchman has spent a night in custody in Paris after attacking a plain porcelain urinal considered to be a major artwork.



The headline for this article on BBC's home page reads:
"Urine trouble now: Man held for damaging famous sculpture."

When I first read that, I thought that he had urinated into it. Understandable mistake. Could have happened to anyone. But no. Apparently, that's what he did in 1993.

This incident might be a little harder to defend.

The Pre-school Al-Qaida Cell

My last post featured a child's quote that seemed just a bit too perfect. Here's another one, clearly the quote of the week:

“I don’t want to be on the list. I want to fly and see my grandma.”
- Four-year-old Edward Allen's reaction to being told he is on the TSA's "no-fly" list.

A dangerous combination of Bush fear-mongering and tragic lack of common sense apparently delayed a family's air travel last month.

4-year-old turns up on government ‘no-fly’ list
Confusion over boy's name trips up family’s journey home for the holidays


Updated: 3:58 p.m. ET Jan. 5, 2006

HOUSTON - Edward Allen’s reaction to being on the government’s “no-fly” list should have been the tip-off that he is no terrorist.

“I don’t want to be on the list. I want to fly and see my grandma,” the 4-year-old boy said, according to his mother.

Sijollie Allen and her son had trouble boarding planes last month because someone with the same name as Edward is on a government terrorist watch list.

My favorite part of the article is when, on the return trip, the ticket agent tells them that they should be grateful that the airport people aren't bigger idiots. I'm curious as to the exact nature of the "other process" mentioned in the article.

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Child Abuse Reporting in the Media

I feel like I should apologize for the lack of posting recently. Not much has been going on here since our judge is on vacation. As much as I complain about his decisions, he is a nice guy (deep down) and it is certainly more interesting to work here when he is on the bench and I can be in court. At the very least, it gives me material for my blog.

I'm always on the lookout for child abuse/neglect stories that reach the mainstream media. Two parents were arrested yesterday after they left their children home alone while they went on vacation.

Police: Calif. couple leaves kids home alone
Children's father, his wife get a dog-sitter but leave boys without care


The article is a great demonstration of the way the mainstream media usually reports child abuse and neglect. In short, I beleive that it is misleading and irresponsible.

Updated: 8:20 a.m. ET Jan. 5, 2006

MANTECA, Calif. - A married couple who got a dog sitter for their puppies but left the man’s young children home alone while they vacationed in Las Vegas were arrested Wednesday, police said.

Well, the fact that they got a dog sitter is hardly relevant to the neglect. The reporter is simply looking for an interesting "angle" for the story. In abuse and neglect stories, that "angle" is usually a demonization of the parents. More on this particular "angle" later.

Jacob Calero, 39, and Michelle De La Vega, 32, were taken into custody as they arrived home on a flight to Oakland. They had left town Friday to celebrate the new year, authorities said.

2006 is off to a bad start for them.

The couple apparently told 9-year-old Joshua to look after his 5-year-brother, Jason, who is autistic. The children spent one night alone before police found them.

The fact that the 5-year-old is autistic is admittedly relevant here. The fact that he has special needs makes this worse.

'These kids are helpless,' grandmother says
The grandmother, Libbey Holden, said she called police because she had suspected the couple left the children at home in San Ramon, about 35 miles east of San Francisco.

“I had big concerns,” Holden said. “These kids are helpless.”

Joshua said his father and stepmother got each other puppies for Christmas, which they brought to De La Vega’s mother to care for before leaving town.

“I thought they loved them more than us,” Joshua told The Associated Press during an interview at his maternal grandmother’s apartment. The children’s mother died in 2003.

Come on! Are you kidding me? The 9-year-old really said that? That quote is just a little too perfect.

The converse of demonizing the parents is building sympathy for the victim. First, they give you that heart-breaking line. Then, just in case you weren't feeling enough sympathy for the poor child and his autistic brother, they throw in the line about their mother being dead.

He added that he and his brother ate cereal for breakfast and cooked frozen dinners in the microwave.

See, this is why they didn't leave the puppies home alone. The puppies can not get their own cereal and frozen dinners. Not to mention that the kids are probably toilet trained and the puppies are not. I'm not trying to be funny here, I'm trying to explain the rationale behind the "interesting angle" that the reporter is using. The reporter is trying to make it sound like the parents have more concern for the puppies than they do for their children. The real reason is that the children are more capable of functioning on their own.

It's not because they love the puppies more than you, Joshua.

“I didn’t know who I could call in an emergency. Even if I called my father, he’s far away, so there wouldn’t be much he could do,”

Calero and De La Vega each were being held on suspicion of two felony counts each of child endangerment. Bail was set at $200,000.

Kids found in OK shape
Police found the children asleep in their beds Saturday night. A gas fireplace was on, but they found nothing out of the ordinary.

Here we go. Finally. Two-thirds of the way into the story, the reporter finally tells you that no harm came to the kids. I repeat, THE KIDS WERE NOT HARMED. The reason this is buried down here is because no one would read a story about unharmed kids. Again, the reporter is just trying to make the story more interesting.

“It appears that the food and the environment were set up for them to be alone,” San Ramon Police Sgt. Brian Kalinowski said.

Ok, so this shows planning and intent. But it also shows that the parents had some concern for the kids well-being.

Officers began calling Calero’s cell phone Saturday, but he didn’t call back until Tuesday. “We get the sense that they felt no urgency for them to return home,” Kalinowski said.

I would love to hear that voice mail message:

"Hello, this is Officer Kalinowski of the Manteca Police Department. Would you please come home so we can arrest you for child endangerment?"

Calero and De La Vega have requested lawyers and have refused to talk to police, Kalinowski said. Felony child endangerment carries a maximum sentence of six years in prison.

Well, of course. That's what guilty people do. They hire lawyers and refuse to cooperate with the police. This is just old hat for them. Way to make the parents look like hardened criminals!

Calero is a plumber and De La Vega works in a dental office, police said.

Rule of Child Abuse Journalism #8: If you must humanize the parents, only do it a little and do it at the very end of the article.

Ok, I'm not saying that what the parents did was not wrong. Clearly, if these facts prove to be true, they have neglected, maybe even endangered, their children. However, there is also an element of irresponsibility in mainstream news reporting of child abuse and neglect.

This case is not a typical "home alone" case. The parents we defend in child protection court don't usually go on vacation and leave the kids home. They are people with debilitating drug addictions that have rendered them incapable of caring for children whether they're physically there or not.

They are poor people who have to work multiple jobs to make ends meet. These people don't have money for child care, nor do they have employers who are understanding of parents who miss shifts to care for their children. Unlike the parents in the news story, most of the parents we represent don't have a support network of family and friends to help them with child care emergencies.

That's the danger of this type of news reporting. If this is the only type of story that you show people, the public will start to think that this is the archetype of child neglect. It is not. The archetypical neglectful parent is much more complex than the caricature presented in this article. She is less financially able, less malicious, and far more sympathetic.

This type of article is the reason that people cringe when I tell them I am a public defender, then cringe even more when they find out I represent parents accused of abuse and neglect.

I'm not saying that this article is inaccurate, but it does have an agenda. It clearly places shock value and moral outrage above presenting a balanced, engaging, nuanced story. In that way, it is more like a tabloid story than a mainstream news story. The sad thing is that this type of article is typical of major newspapers, television news, and internet news sites.

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

From Abused Child To Public Defender

The Chicago Tribune has run a two-part article about an abused child who grew up to become a public defender in Chicago. The story is mostly in the public defender's own words.

Part One
Part Two

(Note: If you plan on reading these articles, check them out soon. Like most newspapers, the Tribune only allows free access to its articles for the first seven days after they are published.)

The interesting thing to me is the way Ms. Donald empathizes with and forgives the parents and foster parents who abused her. Indeed, with her law degree, she could have become a public guardian, representing the children in abuse and neglect cases. Instead, she chose to work for the public defender, the office that defends adults (i.e. parents) in abuse and neglect and in criminal cases. No word in the article as to whether she ever worked in their child protection division.

This article holds an important lesson for public guardians. Even though, as a child, she suffered for her parents mistakes, she still considers them her family and wants them in her life. In our county, the public guardians are notorious for being anti-parent and anti-reunification. Most of them will do whatever they can to separate their clients from parents whom they perceive as dangerous or even simply bad influences. I will be showing them this article, especially the part where, as an adult, Ms. Donald seeks out her father to renew their relationship.


EDIT: 12/28/05

I've decided to post the entire articles here since they will soon disappear from the Tribune's website.

PART ONE

Dawn Turner Trice

Public defender's story is one of faith, determination

Published December 26, 2005

This is the season for giving and, as Brunell Donald has come to understand, one especially invaluable gift is the gift of forgiveness.

Donald is a 30-year-old Cook County public defender. When she was a toddler, her father was carted off to the penitentiary for selling drugs. At 10, she watched helplessly as her mother was brutally murdered.

By the time Donald went to college, she'd been a ward of the state for 8 years, living in foster and group homes.

If you follow child welfare statistics, you'd see the unmistakable pattern that suggests wards don't often fair too well. But, as you'll see, Donald is a woman of uncompromising faith and determination. She isn't one to cower in the face of great odds.

I started talking to Donald a couple of months ago. When I finally sat down to write, my words didn't seem to do justice to her remarkable journey. So, I decided to step out of the way and allow her to tell her own story. This is the first of two parts, in Donald's own voice--with minor editing from me.

My mother was a drug addict. My father was involved in the sale of narcotics. He went to college but dropped out and decided to pick up a street trade.

My mother was from a small town outside of Birmingham, Alabama, and my father was from Chicago. They met when she was in her late teens; he was in his late 20s. My parents never married but they lived together.

I can remember being a little girl and everything seeming normal for a while.

But when I was 3 or 4 years old, the feds raided our apartment on the West Side. My father was later convicted for selling drugs and sentenced to 10 years in the penitentiary. My mother and I would visit him there, and I remember eating vending machine hamburgers and playing cards with my dad. That was my joy.

Then, one day, my mother stopped taking me to visit him. She never told me why.

After my father left, we lost our provider and my mother had to fend for herself. She started prostituting and using drugs. I remember her being on welfare. Two years after my father went away, my mother had my sister. I remember all of us standing in the church line for cheese and canned goods.

By then, we were living on the North Side. It was so weird what went on in that house. I didn't realize how dysfunctional it was until I was an adult. I remember the prostitutes coming over. They would stop by to change their wigs, wash the makeup off their faces and wash their bodies, all in the bathroom sink.T

hey would also eat my Frankenberry cereal. I never could keep enough. They were prostituting all night and by morning they'd be so hungry.

My mom would press their hair and cook meals for them. My mother was a caretaker of people.

But bad things sometimes happen to good people. My father was violent and when he lived with us. She would call the police when he hit her. They would come but my mother never pressed charges. When he left, the beatings stopped, but the pain didn't.

The last year my mother was alive was 1985. In July, I threw her a birthday party. I was only 9 years old. I invited all of her friends and family. We had cake, spaghetti and chicken.

I turned 10 years old Aug. 5. By November she was dead.

A drug dealer wanted $250 dollars that she owed him. She couldn't pay him so my mother, sister and I went on the run to relatives' houses for a couple of weeks.

We came back on Nov. 4, 1985. The next day, the dealer knocked on our apartment door. I opened it.

He came in and said, "Hey, Vonne."

My mother sent me to my room. From the hall, I could hear him saying, "Where's my money?" In my room, I turned on the television to watch a cartoon. Then I heard her scream.

I ran out to the living room to see him stabbing her over and over.

I started to scream and he said if I didn't shut up, he'd kill me too. By the time it was over, he'd stabbed her 39 times.

When I was 5 years old, I told my mother that I was going to be a lawyer. I was watching an old "Perry Mason" rerun. My mother said, "Your momma ain't a lawyer; your daddy wasn't a lawyer, so how you gone be a lawyer?"

Over the next few years, all of my interactions with the police and court system during my childhood were pretty rough, but they prepared me for who I am today.

----------

On Tuesday, more from Brunell Donald and the gift of forgiveness.

mailto:dtrice@tribune.com

Copyright © 2005, Chicago Tribune


PART TWO

Dawn Turner Trice

Forgiveness a priceless gift

Published December 27, 2005

In Monday's column, I began a story about Brunell Donald, who says the most precious gift during the holiday season is the gift of forgiveness.

Donald is a 30-year-old Cook County public defender who landed in the child welfare system at 10 years old.

With her mother brutally murdered on Nov. 5, 1985, and her father estranged from the family, having served time in the penitentiary, Donald spent eight years of her life being shuffled between group and foster homes in the Chicago area.

This is part two of Donald's story, in her words.

When my mom died, I didn't know death was permanent. I saw her stretched out on the floor that last time and I thought she was going to get up. She had gotten up before after she'd been beaten.

When I saw her in the casket, I kissed her forehead. It was freezing cold, but I still didn't know she wasn't coming back.

Though my father attended my mother's funeral, we lost touch afterward, and my sister and I became wards of the state.

- - -

We wound up in the foster home of a close friend of the family. She believed wholeheartedly in corporal punishment--beating with broomsticks, belts, and pots and pans. I'm not saying we were perfect, but getting beaten was the last thing we needed.

My sister and I were in that house for five years. After that, we went to live in Evanston with my great aunt, who had a doctorate. She had a beautiful home. But by then, I couldn't appreciate it. I was so hurt and angry. I was rebellious.

For years I was an insomniac because I was afraid of being awakened in the middle of the night to be beaten for some transgression that happened earlier in the day.

After a year, my aunt was like, "You have to go." I left but my sister stayed.

I ended up in a group home in Aurora at 16. I was there for a year and a half. I would sneak out at night while there, too.

But, through it all, I never missed a day of school. I had wanted to be a lawyer since I was 5. Even when I was doing wrong, I was still going to school.

- - -

When I was 16, I met my mentor. He was my pediatrician. He told me years later that he'd never met anyone who was so smart and articulate who'd come through the child welfare system.

I've always known about college and I knew that was the path I was on. My mentor said that if I ever needed anything, I could call him for a letter of recommendation, advice or just to talk. He never expected anything in return. He helped me find financial aid. School would let out and I wouldn't have a home to go to, so he helped me find places to stay.

- - -

I went to undergraduate school at Northern Illinois University and then to law school at John Marshall Law School in Chicago. I passed the bar the first time.

He told me that just because people had more money than me, that didn't make me inferior. Before I met him, I rarely felt good enough. I was a fat kid and never had the right clothes. He was a big self-esteem booster for me.

An elementary teacher was another mentor. She was the first person who helped me realize my voice had power. She would enter me into oratory contests and spelling bees. When I told her I was going to be a lawyer, she believed me. She believed in me.

- - -

Still, my life had a big hole in it. I didn't know my father. On the outside, I was working hard and striving, but I was depressed and angry with the world.

My father and I were reunited in 1996. I was about to graduate from college. We started slowly, meeting during holiday get-togethers with other family members I didn't know. We cried together. We're still building, moving forward.

I love my father very dearly. I'm a strong believer in the Bible. It says honor thy mother and father. It doesn't say honor them only if they have led perfect lives.

In his 61 years of life, my father has made mistakes. So have I. So who am I to judge? I knew I had to forgive him for not being there for my mother and me, and for the path he chose.

I had to forgive the woman who beat my sister and me for five long years. I had to forgive the man who murdered my mother. He's now serving a life sentence in prison.

- - -

At the beginning of the year, I'll begin work in the felony trial division in the courthouse at 26th and California. My father had been incarcerated there many times. Now I'll be standing up there as a defense attorney.

Yes, I'll be defending murderers. And those who have wronged people in other ways. But I am there to defend the Constitution. Everyone is innocent until proven guilty.

As a Cook County public defender, I tell my clients I can relate to them. I know what murder is like firsthand. I know what misery is like firsthand.

In my office, I give away `U-Turn Permitted' fliers. I tell my clients that I'm a witness they can change their lives.

----------

mailto:dtrice@tribune.com


Copyright © 2005, Chicago Tribune

Thursday, December 22, 2005

It's a tragedy for me to see the dream is over...

Would-Be Cop Charged With Growing Pot In Woods
Monday December 19, 2005 5:40pm

Wheaton, Md. (AP) - In a small wooded area of Wheaton, investigators say something was growing that definitely should not have been.

It seems someone set up a marijuana garden in Matthew Henson State Park. Most people never knew it was there, about 100 yards off Georgia and Hewitt avenues. But police spotted it from the air a few months back and set up a surveillance camera.

They quickly caught a man pouring a mixture of water and fertilizer on the plants. The Maryland National Capital Park Police wound up harvesting 121 plants, worth 1,000 dollars apiece. Then they showed people in the neighborhood pictures of the suspect.

That led them to arrest 22-year-old Alvaro Quinonez - a Montgomery College student studying criminal justice so he can be a cop.

Instead, he faces a variety of criminal charges.

Great. Now I have a Milli Vanilli song stuck in my head.