Category — Monday Musings

How do you introduce a woman who writes one of the most popular public defender blogs, and who has inspired others to follow in her footsteps? The answer is that you don’t, because really, any words of introduction will pale in comparison with the real thing.

So without any further ado, here is Blonde Justice in her own words…

INTRODUCTION

Hi, I’m Blonde Justice, the pink-loving heroine of blondejustice.blogspot.com, and winner of the 2006 Best Blog by a Female Public Defender.

I started Blonde Justice after about 8 months on the job. I think the main reason why I decided to write was because, especially in those early days, I felt like being a PD (PD stories, client stories, court stories, prosecutor stories) consumed my thoughts. I just couldn’t stop thinking about it, or talking about it, and I knew I risked driving everyone around me crazy. I felt like I needed an outlet – and an anonymous blog seemed as good a place as any. I didn’t really think that other people would want to read it, but there it was. (And, surprisingly, they apparently do.)

Now, sometimes it’s a blessing to come home and not think about work. And it is more difficult for me to want to think about or write about work when I get home. Also, as my career has progressed to include more serious cases, I find that it’s even harder to blog about work for two reasons: (1) it’s harder to make light of rapes and murders and (2) it’s harder to stay anonymous with cases that are more likely to be covered in the news. So, sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t, sometimes I blog about reality television or lip balm or shoes.

I’ve often thought about giving up blogging. Because sometimes it’s just tough – tough to find the time, tough to think of things to write about. And I think it’d be better to go out with a goodbye than to just let it peter out, but I have a sneaking suspicion that immediately after I posted my “goodbye” post, I’d have a million things I want to write. So, I’ll hang in there a little longer. And besides, I can’t quit right after being named Best Female Public Defender Blog 2006, can I?

You started Blonde Justice in May 2004. Was there a particular blog (or blogs) that inspired you to start blogging?

Definitely CrimLaw and I’m a PD. I found myself reading those blogs and thinking, “Exactly! Me too!” or, sometimes, “Oooh, things are SO different here.” Neither of them were anonymous, so it was a challenge to me to figure out whether (and how) it could be done.

You make it clear that your anonymity is important to you. How difficult has it been to keep your anonymity for nearly three years now?

It’s not easy, that’s for sure. I’m almost definitely overly paranoid about it, but I have made the decision that if I was ever outed I’d immediately quit blogging. So, I figure, better safe than sorry.

You want to know how paranoid I am? You know what I worry about? That someone, especially a prosecutor, will use a fact from my blog to “test” me. Like, to ask me, “Hey, will you hold my newspaper for me for a few minutes? Why not, are you allergic? By the way, have you ever seen Rocky?”

So, yeah, it’s tough. Thanks, in no small part, to my extreme paranoia.

Do you think your anonymity allows you to write more freely, or is it sometimes restricting? How?

It’s definitely restricting.

There are so many things that I think about writing and then decide that it might compromise my anonymity – weather (Did she say snow storm? tornado? hundred degree weather in January?), vacations (Hey, I know someone who just came back from Djibouti too. And, now that I think about it, she does wear a lot of pink…), high profile cases, crazy stories that quickly become notorious around the office, my other hobbies (How many blonde public defenders collect pre-war confederate bottle caps?).

Even my shoes. If I posted a picture, I’d be paranoid that every time anybody says, “Cute shoes!” to me, they’re really thinking, “They’re just like the ones I saw on Blonde Justice…”

What advice do you have for young public defenders who are thinking about starting their own blogs?

It will eat up all your free time!

And if you want to be anonymous, that’s fine, but commit to it from day one and stick to it. And if you’re not going to be anonymous, then assume that everything you say can and will be held against you by judges, jurors, clients and adversaries.

And, why not ease yourself into it by joining our Blawgers Baseball League?

In checking out some things on Blonde Justice for this interview, I came across this quote of yours in a comment: “Suffice it to say that a majority of my clients are indigent. And that I’m overworked and underpaid. Sounds like a PD? Yeah, kinda, close enough, but not quite.” Can you talk about how it is different without compromising your anonymity?

I guess the only way that I can put it is that my paycheck doesn’t come from the state. Other than that, I’m a public defender.

A lot of blogs have links to Blonde Justice, plus you were voted Best Female PD Blogger and Best Personality in the first PD Blogger Awards. To what do you attribute your popularity?

I’m not sure. I didn’t expect so many people to read the blog when I started it. I guess I could attribute it to my witty writing style, but I think maybe there’s something more than that.

I think people like the fact that I write about the law in an easy, approachable way; I never cite cases and try not to get hung up on specific details of cases. And while that certainly means that you shouldn’t take anything I write as legal advice, I think it makes it so that most people who read it can say, “ok, a shoplift, I know what she’s talking about,” and follow along without needing any legal background.

And I do write about reality tv and just everyday life stuff. You’d be surprised how many of my blog readers are people who are searching for “8th and Ocean” or “Beauty and the Geek,” but I’d like to think that after a few minutes of reading the blog, maybe they’ll learn a little something about the law or the justice system. Maybe enough to keep them out of trouble, or to at least pay their public defender a little more respect.

THE PD STUFF FIVE QUESTIONS

If you weren’t an attorney, what other job would you like to try and why?

Oooh, I think it must be a sign of burn-out that I think about this one so much.

I took a travel writing class in college, and I’ve always thought that would be an awesome job. But, maybe it’s not as glamorous as it looks. Maybe it’s lonely, and I’d always be sleeping in lumpy hotel beds and wishing for my home. That’s what I tell myself at least.

I’ve thought about being a court interpreter. I envy their job, just slightly. They get to hear all the juicy details of the court system, but, at the end of the day, they don’t have any extra work they have to do ( e.g. briefs to write, trials to prepare). But at this point, it’d probably be too hard to keep from giving my own two cents on every case.

It’s going to sound crazy, but I think about going to seminary. But I’m not sure how that would be much different from being a public defender. You know, listening to people, giving advice, interpreting ancient laws.

I could be an inventor. I’ve already invented tons of stuff that got ripped off. If I just had a little more time to follow through with getting patents, I could be a millionaire. That’d be cool.

I think it would be really fun to be the DJ at baseball games. I mean, every time there’s a rain delay, they play, “Walking in the Rain.” C’mon people, I could come up with 20 more songs with the word “rain” in the title! Every time a batter draws a walk, they play “Walk Like An Egyptian.” I could come up with 50 more songs for a walk! And then, the music they play to hype up the crowd? The stadium needs someone who knows that “Jock Jams” was a decade ago. And I’m just the girl for that.

But here’s the best one: I’ve also been thinking about opening a doggy day care. I would need to buy a big property first, that’s the biggest obstacle. But I’d offer dog walking, exercise, maybe even grooming. Not that I could groom a dog, but someone could. Because people who live in apartments and work long hours are paying a dog walker anyway. So, why not pay just a little more, and have a place where your dog could play ALL DAY, socialize with other dogs, and not tear up your furniture at home? Even if you have to board your pet while you’re on vacation, you could pay me to come get your dog out of boarding and take him to day care during the day. Now, wouldn’t you feel better about that? And, perhaps most exciting, the day care will have a few webcams. So, any time, whether you’re at work or on vacation, you can check in and see how your doggy is doing at day care. How cool is that?

Best moment on the job?

You know, my first thought is to think of an acquittal or dismissal that felt really good. I had one in mind where my client was a really old guy, never arrested in his life, and he got arrested for shoplifting when he just had “a senior moment” and walked out of the store without paying for something cheap. The store security guard tackled him, and held him on the ground, fake hip and all, until the police rushed to the scene a half-hour later.

It wasn’t a lot of work for me to get the case dismissed. And it felt good, to help my client, who was in bad physical shape, and living on a very limited income. So, I was kind of shocked when he brought a small gift to my office a few weeks later. I didn’t want to accept it, it just didn’t seem right, but he insisted. It felt really nice to be appreciated like that. And it happens just frequently enough to keep me going.

But I think my best moments really are hanging out with my colleagues. I really like the way we can all come together for the common good. The craziest thing is when a prosecutor or a judge is out of line toward one of us, the way we can all come together and, through a combination of tactics, put the enemy through his paces. That’s really fun.

And it really is just fantastic to work with a group of people who have such similar beliefs and morals and convictions and to work together on cases and for our clients. It really leads to a lot of my best moments on the job.

Worst moment on the job?

I had this client, this young girl. She was 16, but she was tiny. She couldn’t have weighed more than 80 pounds. She was in jail because she had previously been sentenced to probation, and then she hadn’t showed up for her probation interview. Now she got caught committing a new crime – fighting with another girl. She cried and cried to me about how she had to get home because she had a tiny premature baby still in the hospital, and that’s why she never went to probation because she went into early labor. (How did she have time to fight this girl then? She swore she was on her way to see her baby in the hospital, just minding her own business, when this girl started fighting her.)

I begged the judge to give her another chance at probation, to get her released. I called the hospital and got proof that her baby was still in the NICU. (This took 20 phone calls, and going back and forth to the jail with different types of waivers and releases for her to sign.) I went back and forth to my client’s grandmother. I went back and forth to the judge. Finally, the judge agreed to release my client and give her another chance at probation.

My client was supposed to come back to court a week later to start probation. She never showed up. I called her grandmother who told me that she never came home the day she was released from jail. She had never even called. Another warrant was issued for her arrest.

I worried about her for a long time. I worried that something terrible happened to her. That her baby would have to grow up without her mother, that her poor elderly grandmother would be stuck raising this baby. I checked in with her grandmother almost weekly to see if my client had turned up.

And, that’s unusual for me. I have a lot of clients that fail to appear for court – and generally I send a letter that says, “You missed court, there’s a warrant for your arrest,” and that’s the end of it. I’m not my clients’ babysitter and I feel like my time is better spent on clients who care about their own case.

A few weeks later, my client’s grandmother told me that the baby had come home from the hospital, but my client still hadn’t turned up. Finally, about 5 months later, I got a call from the girl – she had been arrested on a new charge. She had stabbed someone, but she hadn’t seriously injured her. And she cried and cried to me about how I needed to get her out of jail, that she was pregnant again and she hadn’t seen a doctor and she was worried she would have another premature baby. I just felt so betrayed – that I had worried about her for months, but she had just been staying with her boyfriend, having a good time, getting pregnant. I was so angry – she has a sick, tiny baby and she doesn’t even call to see if her baby’s alive? And then she gets pregnant again? And tries to use the baby as an excuse to get out of jail again? I ultimately asked one of my colleagues to take the latest case. It was a big favor to ask, and I pretty much never do that, but I felt like there was no way that I could fight for her the way her lawyer should. There was no way I could say to a judge, “She’s 16, she’s pregnant, and she has a premature little baby at home, please release her,” knowing full well she probably wouldn’t go home, and she’s probably get better medical treatment for her baby in jail. My colleague fought for her, got the right judge (and not a judge that recognized her from her early cases, luckily) and she was released, again, to probation. That’s right, she was on probation on 3 separate cases. It was one of those situations where you can never say it, but you know the judge is making a mistake releasing someone. And you never know, I guess this could be the time when she decides to get her life straight and do what she’s supposed to do. Who am I to bet against her? As I’m sure you can guess by now, she again never showed up for her probation interview or court. The last I heard, I got a phone call from her a few months ago, asking me if she had a warrant. I asked her, “Well, did you ever go to court?” She said, “No, but I was hoping you would take care of it for me because I…” I stopped her right there, I didn’t even want to hear it. I said, “No. There is nothing I can do to take care of it unless you show up in court or you’re in jail.” She said, “But I…” And I just had to say, “Stop.” I just couldn’t bear to hear about how she’s suddenly taking responsibility for her babies to avoid jail, or is, God forbid, pregnant again. But I was really disappointed in myself that I couldn’t just suck it up and give her some kind of legal advice, just be her lawyer. But I couldn’t. I still think about her a lot. About half the time I worry for her, and for her bay, and I hope she will someday finally get her head straight. The other half the time I feel really pissed that she could be that bad of a mother, and that so many more qualified women never get to be mothers, and that it’s only her poor grandmother and her tiny babies who will really suffer.

If Heaven exists, what do you think God will say to you when you arrive?

When I meet God, He’s got some ’splaining to do. I’ve got a cross-examination coming His way. Because there’s a lot going on down here that isn’t making much sense to me.

But, what do I hope He says to me? I hope He says, “There you are. I waited a LOOONG time for you.”

If you could only pick one, who is your hero/heroine?

My grandmother, who is already waiting for me in heaven. She was cool in a way that is so different from me. She was just happy being a wife, a mother, a woman. And I think that’s cool, that she found happiness in that. She raised her own nine children, plus her sister’s kids when her sister passed away. She never had a driver’s license, because, as she would say, “Where are you going to go without your husband anyway?” My grandfather was dead almost 20 years, since before I was born, and she still respond to almost every question with either, “Well, I’m not sure what my husband would say about this,” or, “I know exactly what my husband would say about this, and it wouldn’t be good…”

Even at the end of her life, when she was blind and deaf in a nursing home, when she would figure out that it was a female doctor coming in to examine her, she would insist on calling her “nurse.” Or she would say, “A female doctor. How about that. I don’t know how good she can be if she doesn’t have enough sense to stay home with her children.”

She honestly believed, and frequently reminded me, “You know, you can’t fight city hall.”

But I feel like I always strove, and still do, even now that she’s been gone almost 8 years, to challenge her in my own way. To make her proud of me and to force her rethink her beliefs.

I like to believe that she’s up there saying, “Wow, look at that girl. She really can fight city hall.”

Thank you very much, Blonde Justice, for taking the time to give us such a thoughtful and obviously heartfelt look at the woman in the pink suit.

Next week’s guest on Monday Musings is PovertyLawyer1, the author of The Wretched of the Earth. PL1 is from Texas and he blogs about a lot of the legal issues facing the state, from appellate decisions and exonerations to police and jail procedures, and more. If you would like me to consider some questions for his interview, please email them to me.

When I first put together the Public Defender Investigator Network website, I was surprised and delighted to come across a blog called Tales of a Public Defender Investigator. To this day, the author, Sanchovilla of California, is the only voice in the blogosphere for PD investigators.

Two years later, Sancho remains the only PD investigator blogging about the job. (And blogging about his, um, “love life.” But I have decided not to open that can of worms. There are some dark places even an investigator doesn’t want to go without absolute necessity.) And while two of the three PD bloggers Sancho mentioned in his first post have since disappeared from blogging (Public Defender Dude and I’m A PD), Sancho is still going strong. His posts on current issues offer his unique perspective, plus his investigation tips on such things as myspace sites are an excellent resource for those of us out in the field.

So it is with great honor and humility that I introduce this week’s Monday Musings guest, Sanchovilla (pictured below in what I can only hope is not his online dating photo).

INTRODUCTION

My name is Sanchovilla…obviously not my real name. I’m a Public Defender Investigator in the magnificent state of California. I’ve worked in the public sector since 2002 and prior to that I worked in the private sector working a mix of civil cases and criminal cases since roughly 1994.

I’m single, never been married and I have no children. When I was younger, my life centered on my work, but as I’ve grown older and seen other defense professional’s burnout, I’ve realized that a good balance of both is the only way to survive. The balance is something I’m always working on and what I seem to battle with the most.

I started my blog two years ago this month. I remember my reasons for starting it and I think they’ve changed a bit as time has passed. I think I originally just wanted a place to vent and share some stories with anyone that might be interested in reading them. Now, I still enjoy the venting, but I also feel like I can shed some light on the work defense investigators do. We’re a group of people that for the most part remain behind the scenes. We diligently collect and organize information long before a trial date is even in the thoughts of an attorney, and once a case gets to the courtroom, we’re usually only called in from the bullpen when shit has hit the fan.

We are an essential cog in the grinding wheels of the American justice system and I want to help highlight all of the good and even the bad that we are capable of doing.

Why the name Sanchovilla?

There are a few reasons I took this nickname. I was always a fan of the fictitious stories behind Robin Hood and Zorro including all the books, movies, and cartoons. Being Mexican-American, I grew up on stories of other real-life Robin Hood’s. In Mexico, The story of Francisco “Pancho” Villa and Emiliano Zapata whose battle cry, “Tierra y Libertad” is still used today…absolutely fascinated me. Here were two people that came from absolutely nothing to become the leaders of a revolution that fought for the underdog, the underrepresented, and mostly simply…the poor.

The argument could be made that Villa and maybe even Zapata were both nothing more than a ruthless thugs whose sole purpose was to collect land and money…but still nothing takes away from the image they created of and the country they changed.

I wanted to find a name that borrowed from them and what they stood for. I was called Sancho for a few years as a nickname (not my choice), so I added it to Villa since it was close to Pancho…I would have preferred to use it with Zapata’s name but Sanchozapata doesn’t have the same ring to it.

The photograph I use as my Avatar is of Subcomandante Marcos who in 1994 became the leader of the Zapatista Army of National Liberation. The true identify of Marcos is unknown, although it is speculated that he is a wealthy Mexican businessman and now he uses his money and power to effect change in his country of origin.

How do you prefer to work a case? Do you like to be given a file and a list of questions from the attorney and be left to your own to go and find the answers, or do you prefer more collaboration with the attorney? Why?

For the most part, anytime I work a case, I prefer to have copies of everything in the file….and I mean everything! The worst thing that can happen on a case is that you and your attorney are not on the same page because you are missing a piece of the file. Not being on the same page means that you fail to follow up on something during an interview or in the regular course of your investigation because you were missing a page from a report. Unnecessary follow-up is both time consuming and non-productive.

I absolutely love lists of questions from my attorney’s. When I’m done with an investigation, I do my best to have those questions answered and if they aren’t an explanation as to why and a recommendation of what we can do to get an answer.

Some attorney’s don’t like lists at all, preferring instead to meet in person before an investigation begins. These are usually the same attorney’s that prefer that I look into a couple of issues they are concerned about and they let me do what I need to do, letting them know with emails and memo’s of anything I come up with and avenues of investigation that I’m following in the hopes of presenting a good defense.

The way I work an investigation really just varies with the assigned attorney. I have the home numbers of most of my attorney’s and they have mine. They know that I can call them after hours if I run into something during non-office hours and they know they can reach me anytime if they need an update on a case. Obviously, calling someone during irregular hours is a matter of last resort but I don’t work regular business hours and neither do my attorneys.

What kind of investigation requests do you spend the most time on at work?

Theoretically, all investigation requests should get a lot of attention from me as soon as they are in my hands. Unfortunately, in actual practice, most of my investigative efforts revolve around the more serious cases involving more serious crimes and penalties. I end up spending about 40% of my time in the office working on reports and computer research while the remainder of my time is spent in the field, doing what needs to be done.

What can a PD office can do to attract dedicated investigators and keep them happy?

Reduce the workload. Obviously, nothing can be done about reducing our clients and the resulting investigation requests, but an office that is understaffed in their investigations unit is an office with unhappy and non-productive investigators and equally unhappy and non-productive attorneys who aren’t having their requests completed on time.

I’ve always felt it important that all offices have internship programs in conjunction with local colleges and law schools. Every office I’ve ever worked at has had an intern program which has resulted in the hiring of the top interns when spaces become available.

In the same sense, I think having people from the Public Defender’s offices speaking to schools and groups is a good way of educating people unfamiliar with what we do and possibly finding potential candidates to “recruit”.

What advice would you give attorneys, especially younger attorneys, about working with investigators?

Get to know the investigator’s in your office. I’m not saying you have to become best friends with them (although it happens quite often) but don’t be afraid to ask questions of them and let them find out a little about you and how you like to operate. Go out for coffee or lunch before you ever send them a request, they will find out your likes and dislikes a lot quicker and you might even learn a few things.

I think the big thing with attorney/investigator relationships is that as an attorney, you need to be up front about what your needs are. Don’t let the investigator try and guess what you are trying to look for because it can only end badly.

In the long run, you want to be able to develop a solid working relationship because there is a good chance, they’ll be the only ones standing by you in the courtroom when things get tough and you want to know that the person you’re depending on is knowledgeable and capable of doing what needs to be done.

Very basic…I know, but there is really no magic advice I can give. Communicate with each other as much as possible, simple as that.

What is your favorite part of the job?

My favorite part of the job is really kind of strange. Of course I’m supposed to say that helping our indigent clients is my favorite part of the job, but that wouldn’t be 100% true.

As an investigator, I like coming up with the impossible interview that nobody thought I could get or even tracking down a witness that nobody believed could be found. It doesn’t happen everyday, but when it does, it makes me feel like I’m doing something that not a lot of people are capable of.

A lot of investigators in California are ex-police officers, but you aren’t. Do you see advantages/disadvantages to the ex-officer investigator?

I’ll probably get a lot of crap for this, for the most part, I would prefer to hire an investigator that didn’t have law enforcement experience.

Although I’ve met some great defense investigators with a law enforcement background and I might even work with a few, I don’t think its experience that is necessary or even recommended for the job. The best investigators I’ve worked with in the past had journalism experience, were law students and lawyers, and generally people that just had a real passion for this work.

The plus with ex-cops is the connections they’ve made while in uniform and their ability to zero in right away on questionable tactics used by detectives and street cops. This isn’t anything that can’t be learned by someone without the experience, and someone without the experience won’t be dead set in the usually heavy handed ways of law enforcement.

Any advice for people who would like to become Public Defender Investigators?

Contact your local PD’s office. Ask to speak to the Public Defender (that would usually be the head honcho of an office) and ask about intern programs or even a tour of their office. The head PD’s are usually not in court, instead they can be found in their offices trying to run the place but they’re usually not too busy to talk to a member of the public that is interested in getting involved.

If you’re still having trouble, you’re actually at one of the best places to get more information on becoming a PDI. PD Stuff is a great resource with its connections to the PD Investigator Network , you can get familiar with the lingo and work-related issues that come up on the job. Oh, and there are also PD job openings which on occasion highlight trainee positions that can get you the experience you need.

If you have the passion for the job and it’s really something you want to do, I have no doubt anyone can get their foot in the door.

The PD Stuff Five Questions

If you weren’t an investigator, what other job would you like to try and why?

I would LOVE to own or even just work at a little restaurant or bakery. I’m not very good with the baking but I enjoy it immensely and I can whip up a plate of Pork Chops Forestiere that would make you think you’d died and gone to heaven.

I like being able to start with just raw ingredients and turn it into something that makes someone ask, Wow this is amazing…You actually made this? I also like cooking for my friends and if I could just find the right sugar momma I’d also be just as happy staying home and cooking her meals everyday.

Best moment on the job?

Anytime a client says they appreciate the work I’ve put into their case. Cheesy, but true.

Worst moment on the job?

I don’t even have to think about this. My worst moment on the job is something I think about all the time…But first; let me share a passage from a book I read recently:

…I had been presented with innocence but I had not seen it or grasped it. Instead, I had thrown it into the maw of the machine like everything else. Now it was a cold, gray innocence, as dead as gravel and hidden in a fortress of stone and steel. And I had to live with it.

That paragraph is from The Lincoln Lawyer by Michael Connelly. It encapsulates my worst moment on the job and also my greatest fear as an investigator.

My worst moment involved a case I worked on a few years ago and at the risk of taking away the real impact this case had on me, I’m not able to go into too much detail for various reasons (my stupid anonymity has a big part to do with it). The story made the papers but for the most part, they twisted it to make it more exciting…making it less accurate in the process.

Our client had been accused of something horrible and he was innocent. He was killed before we could exonerate him in court and in the eyes of the public, he died guilty man. I think about that case every day.

If Heaven exists, what do you think God will say to you when you arrive?

This is tough. I’ve done a few bad things in my life and on a few drunken occasions some have speculated that I may only be doing this work to make up for it all in the end. I’m hoping that if there is a God, he will be willing to acknowledge that I did my best and learned from my mistakes.

I could ONLY hope that he doesn’t say, Ummm, what are YOU doing up here?

If you could only pick one, who is your hero/heroine?

I hate to be wishy-washy but I can’t pick just one. If you’re anyone that has stuck up for the little guy against the big bully on the playground, you’re my hero.

What the hell is it with all my cheesy answers?

Yeah, I’m sticking with the, defending the little guy against the bully answer.

Thanks, Sancho, for taking the time to share these insights from an investigator’s perspective. You do us all proud.

Join us next week for Blonde Justice’s interview here on Monday Musings. You can send me questions you would like me to ask her by emailing me.

For those of you who missed Monday Musings because of the holiday, don’t forget to check it out. This week’s guest is Injustice Anywhere…, and her interview is thoughtful, insightful, and inspiring.

You can either scroll down a little to read it, or click here to open the interview.

And don’t forget to email me questions for next week’s guest, Sanchovilla of Tales of a Public Defender Investigator.

She calls herself 123txpublicdefender123, a reflection of her roots as a Texas public defender. Her blog title, Injustice Anywhere…, not only reflects her attitude, but took on an entirely new meaning when she moved to Washington State. Although she still blogs regularly about news from the Lone Star State, her sensibilities and interests continue to catch injustices anywhere as she ensures they are brought to light on her blog.

It was with great pleasure that PD Stuff sat down with (figuratively speaking) the woman behind Injustice Anywhere… and was rewarded with a wealth of information and insight as she reflected on her job, indigent defense, and blogging.

INTRODUCTION

Almost six years ago, I met a client who changed my life. I was working at a large law firm doing complex civil litigation and white-collar criminal defense. I was making lots of money and working long hours, but I was starting to feel really bored with what I was doing. Then, I met Felicia. Felicia was an illegal immigrant, as Lou Dobbs likes to call them. She was from Cameroon, and she had fled to the U.S. after barely escaping torture and imprisonment at the hands of her government. Her initial application for political asylum in this country had been denied, and, she had been placed in deportation proceedings. Through a friend of a friend, my law firm had taken her case pro bono. Because I had done an immigration clinic in law school, I was drafted into the case with another young associate. I spent almost 200 hours working on her case. I found myself in tears more than once. I’ve never been so nervous going into the courtroom—it truly felt like a death penalty case. After we presented our side of the case, the INS trial attorney announced to the court that they no longer opposed her being granted asylum. We had won. There were tears all around that day.

When the case was over, I asked myself why the hell I was working at a big law firm representing big corporations when I could be representing people like Felicia every day. I couldn’t think of a good answer. All the money in the world couldn’t make me feel the way I felt when we won Felicia’s case. I had loved criminal law since my first year of law school, and that’s why I decided to give public defender work a shot. As hopeful as I was that it would be right for me, I don’t think I could have imagined how right it has been.

I love criminal law. I love being a trial lawyer. I love working with real clients, with real problems, on a personal basis. I love being the person who stands up for someone who has no one else to stand up for him. I love knowing that the Constitution has some meaning in my clients’ lives because I am defending their rights. I truly love being a public defender. And I know this sounds incredibly cheesy, but I can’t help it, because it’s true.

How long were you a public defender in Texas?

Four-and-a-half years.

Why the big move to Washington?

It was a combination of personal and professional reasons. Personally, my mother had recently moved to Washington, where she grew up, and where all her family lived, and I missed her. I also had been thinking for a long time about whether I wanted to settle permanently in the city where I lived, and had decided that I didn’t. Professionally, for various reasons that I’ve decided not to blog about (see below), I felt like it was time to leave my office, and make a new start somewhere. I’ve always thought Washington was beautiful and had loved the time I had spent here. I did some research and discovered the two very important things: 1) they had reciprocity admission, so I would not be required to take the entire bar exam (just the ethics portion) to get my law license; and 2) they had a number of public defender offices throughout the state. It was a tough decision to make because I left a lot of good friends and colleagues behind in Texas, but I’m very happy with how things have turned out.

What are the differences/similarities between the approach of the two states in providing indigent defense services?

The major similarity is that neither system is controlled on a state-wide level. Each individual county is largely responsible for how it handles indigent defense. The major difference is that Texas counties predominantly use private practice attorneys paid on a case by case basis, whereas Washington uses more public defender offices and contracts for indigent defense services.

Very few Texas counties have a public defender’s office. Even the county I worked in, which had the largest public defender office in the state, had a hybrid system that relied on the public defender’s office and private practice attorneys for its indigent defense. The majority of Texas counties use a system where an attorney is appointed to a specific case. That decision used to be made primarily by the judge. After some legislative intervention a few years ago, more counties have set up some sort of system whereby the judges are involved in approving a list of qualified attorneys, but don’t regularly choose which lawyer is assigned to any particular case.

I haven’t been in Washington long enough to feel like I have an expert understanding of indigent defense, but from what I’ve seen, it appears that most counties either have a public defender office where all the attorneys are employees of the county (like the office I work in) or the county contracts with an attorney or attorneys or a law firm or law firms to provide the indigent defense services. Individual judges seem largely removed from the process, and it is instead handled at the county government level or through the county’s office of assigned counsel. I think there has been somewhat more state involvement in Washington, as in Texas, since a scandal a few years ago involving the lawyer who had the contract for these services in another county. Skelly was pretty on top of this story, and could probably provide a lot more insight into that and indigent services in the state overall.

Last April you announced your arrival in Washington, and hinted you might blog about your old job, then went silent for a few months. Can you talk about what was going on?

I could talk about it, but I’ve decided not to. Blogging is a tricky thing. I am what I like to call “semi-anonymous” in my blogging, and I am always conscious about how what I say might affect my job or the people that I’m “ranting and raving” about. I feel like I’ve worked through the issues from my old job in my own way, learned from them, and just want to move forward without putting something out there in cyberspace forever memorializing a tough period in my life.

When you came back, you said you thought you had given up on blogging. Of course, we are all very happy you didn’t give up. And it makes you the perfect person to answer this question: What is the pull of the blog that brought you back?

I don’t know if I can put my finger on it exactly. I certainly love the opportunity to vent frustrations by putting my thoughts out there somewhere, whether someone is reading it or not. I also get some fulfillment from knowing that there are people out there who are interested in my experiences, even if it is only about 100 people a day. I hope that at least some of the people reading my blog are gaining some insight into the criminal justice system. I think the news media does a poor job of covering legal issues in general, and the criminal justice system is no exception. I also think public defenders get a bad rap in a lot of the discussion in the media about the system, and I like to think that I contribute to a better understanding of what we do. I also feel a strong sense of camaraderie with other public defender bloggers out there. I read their blogs whenever I get the chance, and I do feel like we form sort of a cyber-community—something beyond the community I have in my office.

You are now working in the juvenile division. What are the differences you see between working with adult clients and with juvenile clients?

I honestly didn’t have any idea how big the difference would be when I started doing juvenile work. On one level, much of the legal work is the same—I still spend about 80-90% of my time defending criminal cases (the other 10-20% is spent on the civil side of juvenile law). But, representing kids charged with crimes has proven quite different from representing adults.

One major difference is that I feel responsible for much more of what is going on in my clients’ lives than I did when I represented adults. A lot of my clients are engaging in criminal behavior due, at least in part, to their circumstances at home. With adult clients, I didn’t feel like their home lives were really my responsibility. I may encourage a domestic violence victim to get counseling or get out of the relationship, or encourage a drug addict to get treatment, but, ultimately, advice and encouragement was where my role ended. They were adults, and it was their responsibility to get their lives in order. With kids, it is very different. They don’t have the same legal rights or life experience or maturity and understanding to just “get their lives in order.” If they are legally ordered to live with their parents, they can’t just leave, even if they wanted to. If they have parents who aren’t physically abusing them, but also aren’t providing them at all with the supportive home environment that parents need to provide their kids as they are facing difficult choices in their lives, then it is hard for them to make the right choices. This is where I feel the responsibility to step in. Sometimes, I am finding safe housing for a child either through a relative or community services. If the parents won’t cooperate, we sometimes have to use the civil side of the system to make that happen. I spend a lot of time just talking to my clients about the fact that they DO have a right not to be hit or molested by their parents, and finding ways to get them to the services that they need. I have been appalled at some of the situations my clients have been living in for years, with little to no intervention by the authorities. I do feel responsible to do what I can, but I obviously find myself unable to solve all these problems. That is the part of juvenile work that is so heartbreaking. If I can “fix” anything at all, it is often only temporary, or just a small part of their life, and then I just hope that other people will do something to help the other parts, or that, if they don’t, the kid will somehow manage to come out of it without being so damaged that they can’t live a productive adult life. With the huge percentage of adult clients, letting go after the case was over was pretty easy. With a lot of my kids, that is really, really hard.

What words of wisdom would you like to share with relatively new public defenders?

Don’t do it unless you believe in what you are doing. You will rarely get fulfillment from this job if you are relying on the gratitude of individual clients. Don’t get me wrong. The moments when you get that are fantastic—I have shed many tears in those moments. But, in my experience, they are few and far between (albeit more frequent in juvenile cases than they were in adult land). I believe that your reward—your fulfillment—has to come from knowing that the rights of everyone in this country are being protected because of the work you and your fellow defense attorneys are doing for individual clients each and every day.

THE PD STUFF FIVE QUESTIONS

If you weren’t an attorney, what other job would you like to try and why?

There are a lot of things I’d like to do, but don’t think I really have the skills to do. I’d love to be some sort of journalist or writer. The problem is that I’m not a very good writer. I would also love to have Charlie Rose’s job—to get to spend my days meeting and interviewing interesting people from all areas of life—politics, art, sports, business, science, etc.—would be an absolute dream.

Best moment on the job?

It’s really hard to pick just one. Any of my cases where I won a not guilty verdict for someone I believe was a victim of domestic violence, but ended up being charged as the perpetrator, would be up there as a “best moment.” Getting a no-bill (no indictment) from the grand jury in an aggravated assault with a deadly weapon case where my client had stabbed her live-in boyfriend in self-defense ranks up there with all of those, too.

Worst moment on the job?

Any time a client I truly believed was innocent was convicted, whether in trial or by his/her choice to plead guilty. Sadly, there were too many of these, especially the latter.

If Heaven exists, what do you think God will say to you when you arrive?

I agree with Feige that this is a tough one for an agnostic . . .

“Even when you didn’t believe in me, you still tried to do the right thing, so come on in.”

If you could only pick one, who is your hero/heroine?

I’ll go with my professional hero–Johnnie Cochran, Jr. O.J. may have been his most famous client, but he spent plenty of time representing the downtrodden as well. And nobody did it better than him, in my opinion. Nobody.

Thank you, Injustice Anywhere…, for taking the time to share with PD Stuff’s readers your thoughtful and considerable insights.

Next week’s guest on Monday Musings is Sanchovilla of Tales of a Public Defender Investigator. If you have some questions you would like me to consider for Sancho, please email them to me by late Tuesday so I can get the questions to him in plenty of time.

You can also schedule your own interview on Monday Musings. Simply email me with some information about yourself and an upcoming open date (the MM schedule is near the top of the sidebar).

Journalist Kevin Davis has very graciously agreed to be interviewed for PD Stuff’s Monday Musings on April 2, the day before his book Defending the Damned hits the bookstores.

Defending the Damned: Inside Chicago’s Cook County Public Defender’s Office is described by Publishers Weekly as a “skillfully crafted narrative look at the Murder Task Force of Chicago’s public defender’s office….Davis ably captures the drama of the courtroom and makes a powerful case for the necessity of the often unpopular public defenders within the criminal justice system, conveying their dedication to obtaining justice for their clients.”

You can read more about Kevin and his book at his website.

When David Feige’s book Indefensible: One Lawyer’s Journey Into the Inferno of American Justice was published in June, 2006, Publisher’s Weekly wrote, “In this dramatic first book, Feige skillfully shares his wisdom and his humanity and sheds light on a justice system that too often works irrationally.” Karl Keys of Capital Defense Weekly said, “Indefensible is compelling because it marries the sad interchange between reality and idealism that is life in the realm of public defense.”

In addition to his book, David has written articles including “Innocence by the Numbers” in the Boston Globe and a recent article about an Austrian designer of solar homes in Lexus Magazine. David also has a blog titled, appropriately enough, Indefensible.

In this first entry of PD Stuff’s weekly interview feature, David kindly takes the time to tell us some news about what he is doing now and to offer some further insights into the world of indigent defense.

INTRODUCTION

Though I’m not doing much direct representation right now, I was a public defender in New York City for more than a dozen years. I started my career in 1991 at the Criminal Defense Division of the Legal Aid Society. I was in the Brooklyn office during the high-crime years of the early 90’s. Somewhere around 1995 I migrated north to Harlem where I was a staff lawyer at the Neighborhood Defender Service of Harlem. When The Bronx Defenders was awarded the contract to become the alternate provider in the Bronx, I signed on–one of the original eight people who opened the doors on September 1^st 1997. I’m extremely proud of my association with the office and I’m awed by the phenomenal place it has become. I think being the Trial Chief of The Bronx Defenders may well be the best job in all of criminal defense work—it was certainly thrilling for me.

Over the years I’ve tried all kinds of cases (the last being a bench trial on resisting arrest charges and the one before that a two-month false confession murder 1). But even as the Trial Chief of the office, I believed that going to trial is always a failure—that win or lose the fact that you have to gamble with someone’s life means that all your other legal skills and persuasive skills have been unable to secure a just and certain outcome, and so you’re left with no choice but to pick twelve and roll the dice. Do we go? Sure we do. But I don’t think we should see trial work as our raison d’etre.

I left The Bronx Defenders in 2004. In 2006 INDEFENSIBLE, my book about a day in my life there was published by Little, Brown & Co. I’m still writing (and doing a very limited number of cases) but the most recent news is that last month I took a job as a Professor of Law and Director of Advocacy Programs at Seton Hall Law School in Newark.

If the budget for The Bronx Defenders were tripled, where would you spend the money?

Because I fundamentally believe that holistic representation is the best model for our work, I’d certainly hire more lawyers to lower caseloads a bit, but would spend the bulk of my newfound wealth on social workers, investigators, civil lawyers and other seemingly ancillary but actually critical programs.

Our clients deserve more from us than just patching them up and sending them home (or worse to jail or prison). And sometimes even winning a trial (though clearly a great legal outcome) won’t salve or solve the real problems that brought a client into the system in the first place. Only by being able to deal with all of a client’s legal problems: housing, benefits, family, immigration, etc. can we start to make dent in the things that are really driving the criminal justice part of the system.

Any thoughts about police and testilying?

They do it all the time, and strangely they believe it to be the right thing to do. It’s tough being a cop, and very tough to feel like you’re constrained by rules that other people don’t have to follow. I think it’s that frustration that leads police officers to lie in order to achieve what they think is a more profound kind of justice. Ends and means.

What is the state of indigent defense in New York City and, if different, in New York State?

Indigent defense is under-funded everywhere, but things are much better in the city than elsewhere in the state. There are many places around the state (the very rural areas) in which court takes place in a barn, presided over by a justice who may not even be a lawyer. In fact there is a terrific series of articles written by the NYT about the injustice of these justice courts.

Obviously things are quite different in the city which now has a number of vibrant defense organizations featuring different models of representation.

I should say that I think that the creation of the alternate providers has done great things for the state of indigent defense in New York City. (For those who aren’t familiar with the system, each of the four large counties in New York City has a primary provider (The Legal Aid Society) and an alternative provider. In the Bronx, The Bronx Defenders, is the alternative provider, doing about 15,000 criminal cases per year).

There’s been a lot of criticism over the years from the Legal Aid Society and others about the alternate defenders. But I’ve worked at both places, and there’s no question in my mind that not only does The Bronx Defender offer superior representation, but that the creation of the office and it’s presence in The Bronx court system and in the Bronx community has been a great boon to the clients, the system and the borough.

In Indefensible you take the gloves off in some of your descriptions. Have you faced any kind of backlash?

Yes and no. The reality is that judges don’t like bad publicity and they do many of the things they do because there is no real public scrutiny of what happens in the run of the mill cases. I’ve always believed that being willing to go out and publicly hold systemic players to account gives you more not less power.

You say in Indefensible that you believe public defenders are best when they have a short career span (as public defenders). Are there exceptions to that rule? Also, do you think the quality of the representation is hindered by the loss of more-experienced public defenders, or do you think that is offset by the decrease in burnout because of quicker turnover rates?

I don’t think I really said that, and I certainly don’t mean it as you’ve put it. I do think that turnover is essential in a PD office. What you want are devoted powerful advocates who will work their butts off and swing for the fences. I think that characterizes the younger more motivated lawyers better than some of us older folks. While there is obviously value in experience, I haven’t seen that many people who have done with work for 20+ years who still have the same fire.

I think the best offices are bottom heavy, with enough experience at the top to insure that no matter what happens there are people with experience there to help.

Speaking of burnout, what advice would you give young public defenders whose ideals and passion are hitting or are about to hit the wall of the daily realities of the job?

To quote the book: “Trust yourself, pace yourself, forgive yourself”

Given the volume of cases, a public defender has to make an almost unfathomable number of snap decisions during the course of the day—take the plea or get a trial date, deal with the DA or go straight to the judge, send a client to the grand jury or just wait for trial. Every one of those decisions has potentially catastrophic consequences for a client and being an effective decision maker requires a preternatural confidence. That’s the first part—trust yourself—trust your instincts. Generally they’re good.

Second, remember that no matter how hard you work, and no matter how efficient you are, no amount of work will ever be enough. There is an inexhaustible supply of clients and almost every single one of them will need more than you have to give. There is never going to be enough money, enough time or enough compassion to do much more than triage. Even when you do focus on someone, their needs are often so beyond your capacities that no good will come of the effort. Accept this as a condition of your life and work as hard as you can for as long as you can every single day, and then when it’s finally time to go home, accept that you’ve done all you can do—pace yourself.

The problem is that with all that volume, with all those decisions, you will screw up. It’s inevitable. Every public defender is going to make mistakes, and those mistakes are going to take a terrible, inexcusable, and unforgivable toll on the lives of the clients you love. It’s just going to happen. You will err, and someone will go to jail because of it. Somehow, to survive in the work, you need to find a way to forgive the unforgivable, to accept and acknowledge that you’ve screwed up, and recognize the price of that screw up without becoming so paralyzed that you can no longer do the work. As bad as you may think you are, clients need you—they are desperate for decent lawyers. Don’t be your own worst enemy. Forgive yourself—or you’ll burn out in two years.

THE PD STUFF FIVE QUESTIONS

If you weren’t an attorney, what other job would you like to try and why?

Either a food and travel writer or a foreign correspondent. That said, I loved writing the book, I’ve had a blast with my recent writing projects, I’m really enjoying Seton Hall Law School, and without sounding too Pollyannaish I feel very lucky to have had the opportunities I’ve had and to have been able to do the things I’ve gotten to do.

Best moment on the job?

Getting a no-true bill in a murder case.

Worst moment on the job?

1. Listening to the bereft howling of a young girl as a judge sentenced both of her parents (one of whom was my client) to 25-life.

2. Watching an innocent client get convicted after I screwed up the trial.

If Heaven exists, what do you think God will say to you when you arrive?

Tough for an agnostic to answer this one, but I’d like to think that when I’m gone people will remember me as someone who always gave more than he took and usually took abundantly.

If you could only pick one, who is your hero/heroine?

Bill Clinton. I’ve never seen a man so engaged with the world, so happy to be alive, so astonishingly productive and so utterly fearless. Clinton taught us to value achievement, fight like republicans, but believe like progressives. He was terrible on criminal justice, but great on life.

Thank you, David, for taking the time to share your thoughts with PD Stuff’s readers.

Next week’s guest on Monday Musings will be the author of Injustice Anywhere…, a public defender who began blogging while in Texas and is now practicing in Washington State. If you have some questions you would like me to consider for her interview, please email them to me. You can also email me to schedule your own interview.

David Feige, author of the blog and book titled Indefensible, is our upcoming guest on the new feature Monday Musings. If there are questions you would like to ask David, you can email them to me and I will select some questions to toss at him in his interview.

Click here to learn more about this new feature on PD Stuff and to get signed up for your own Monday Musings interview.

Each Monday a public defender or related professional is featured in an interview format. The featured guest writes his or her own introduction, then answers some questions sent in by readers, along with some set questions that each guest is given.

The schedule of guests on the sidebar includes links to the Monday Musings interviews of those who have already been interviewed, as well as links to information about (or the blogs of) upcoming guests.

You can get signed up by sending me an email and giving me some info about yourself and the Monday you would like to reserve. The only requirement is that you be involved in indigent defense. You don’t need a blog, just an interest in shedding some light on the work of indigent defense.