Le sigh . . . Friday night thoughts
At this stage in the game, I still don’t really understand bond. I mean, judges have been passing out $50,003 bond for simple crack possession, $75,003 for possession of a firearm. Is this normal? I’ve not been able to talk to any attorneys about it yet, but the other interviewers have been seeing it so much it’s normal to them. What is the purpose of these super-high numbers? Mr Transient is not going to find $7,500 . . .
Most people I interview have tattoos, and they spend a lot of time absent-mindedly inspecting them. Especially forearm tattoos. I know it’s kind of just something to do with the eyes and hands, but it is very interesting all the same. I kind of mark time by it.
I hear a lot about guys failing to update their addresses. As sex offenders, no one will lease to them, and so they stay with some friends while saving up for a house down-payment. I can understand where they're coming from; who wants your friend’s information in a sex offender database, when they’re just helping you out for a month? And when you do buy a house, what if a day care opens up three houses down? Do you have to move? No one has ever explained any of this.
An unfortunate aspect of interviewing is the typical logical fallacy. For example, an inmate will say, “Why would I touch a gun?!?! I’m a convicted felon!! There’s no way I would pick up a gun!! I know what that would cost me!!” To him, that sort of argument makes total sense, and should be included not only in the text of his narrative, but also in his formal defense. But the fact is, the world doesn’t work this way. The argument is dead the second it sees the light.
I worry that people have a hard time admitting to me they’ve done something unlawful. If they’re hesitant at first, I can sometimes draw it out of them, but not always. I wonder how to make myself more approachable in this respect. I’m horribly curious and maybe they find this offensive? I try to be very professional about it, though. Hrmmm.
I’ve had some people lie to me lately. Personally, that’s okay, because really, what do I care. But I do care about their defense. And, starting next week, if I feel I’m being lied to, I’m going to say something about it. I owe it to their defense to at least make the overture, say, “Listen, I don’t think you’re being completely honest with me. That’s okay, but be aware that I’m writing down what you’re telling me, and it’s all your attorney will have to go on. When he talks with the State Attorney, when he defends you in front of the judge, it’s all going to rely on this story. Be sure this is the one you want to be telling me.” Or something similar. Does anyone have any ideas on what to say? I don’t want to say the wrong thing.
A guy today leaned in close and said to me, “Have you ever seen a kid shit in the corner? I mean really, shit in the corner? And then his sister comes and cleans it up with sheets?? Ain’t nobody every teach them to use the bathroom? What kinda life is that? When you’re six years old and shittin’ in the corner? They like little animals! Animals!”
I still remember my first interview with a tremendous amount of fear. My little room didn’t face a bubble-mirror, so I had no idea when the guy was going to come in. And I didn’t yet know the groans of the sliding glass doors, or the clicks of the interior doors leading to the elevators, so every time I heard a sound, which was a lot, I thought it might be him. I was scared to death. Not of the inmate – though my eyes had not missed his stats: 6’4”, 290 lbs. – but I was scared of doing poorly. Scared of offending him with my very presence, scared he’d think I was judging him. Think, “What the hell is this tall white girl doing, coming in here and asking me about my business?” But I think, interview-wise, I did okay. And on a personal level, the guy got choked up, we talked for a while, it was very difficult for him. It’s difficult for everyone, as you’d imagine, but some are more open with it than others. It’s something I’ll never forget.
I caught our Supervisor reading one of my client’s narratives, and wave away someone trying to ask her something. This really makes me happy; I try to make them like a story, so they read like a story, keep the reader’s interest. I have the inmate tell me their whole story first, then I go back and we write it down, detail by detail. At this point I’ve got a good idea of its timing, and how I need to format it structure. And then we go. Some are more difficult than others.
Apparently the pickles at lunch are really, really, really good.
The first black guy I interviewed did not want to be in the same room with me. So I tried to be very very nice, probably was too nice. He was reticent, trailed off all his sentences, kept his head down, rubbing his forearms, and just made it clear I wasn’t going to get anything out of him without dragging it out. This didn’t upset me personally, I just wanted him to be happy, feel comfortable with me – this was part of his defense, after all. So I got all his information, the interview was over, and just as soon as I said “Thank you,” I mean just as soon as I said Thank you, he changed 180 degrees. He smiled, gave a laugh, shook my hand, and said, “You’re all right, you just keep doin’ a good job. I know you have to pay your bills, so just keep on smiling. That’s what I try to do. Have a good day,” shook my hand again, and about flounced out of the room. Laughing like he’d just had the best time. I broke out into a smile, after I picked my jaw up off the floor. It was extraordinary.
I don’t know why some cops throw away the arrested’s keys. I’ve heard of this 4 times, overheard it really, from inmates who’ve just been released, standing outside the jail. They’re on the phone with someone, trying to figure out how to get in their house. Either the cops purposely threw their keys in a ditch, or in a field, or left the keys on the road where they dropped. And now the guys can’t get in their own house.
Or feed their dogs. 7 puppies, newly weaned, in the house of a guy who got arrested 2 weeks ago. The cop wouldn’t let him put out food for them. He can’t get in touch with anyone to check on them. He cried for about 30 minutes. And all I could do was listen, and write it down. Write it down. Write it all down.
I don’t dare think about that one too much. Told my supervisor. What else can I do.
And then there’s the one who tried to stare me down. That’s okay too. It was interesting, because I’d write what he said, then look up at him to go on, and he’d just stare at me, aggressive, but not overly, trying to see what I’d do or say. It was a stare with a question on the end. And you know, under other circumstances, I’d have looked away very, very fast. I’d have forfeited without a second thought and gone on with life. But here, I just kept his stare. It was kind of an experiment with myself. I’ve never been able to do that before. And I wasn’t staring him down, I was staring his question down. In my mind, I was saying, “I’m here to take your side of the story. You don’t make me nervous, because despite your brawn and what you did, I care more about getting your side of the story. That’s what I’m here for. So give it to me. And if you have to get something out of your system and stare me down for a few seconds, that’s okay too. Because I’m still going to be here, and I’m still going to get your story. That’s what I’m here to do.”
I interviewed 14 people today. !!!!
Trying to teach myself to get used to the smells. Body, mouth, hair, shoes, etc. I mean, it’s not like they’re dangerous - smells are just indicators, as in, “This man smells of wee, it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to swap spit with him.” But the smell itself is not dangerous. It won’t give you a cold, or the flu, or HIV. It just is. Socialization drills into us what is “good” and what is “bad”, why some smells seem offensive, and why others do not. But other than that, the smells don’t mean anything. Not in the jail, anyway. No one’s allowed deodorant (apparently), and most people sleep all day and have sleepy-breath. A lot of them smell like mildew. Why is this bad? I mean, aside from preconceived notions? It’s not going to hurt me, so why be afraid or grossed out?
The interview has ended, and the inmate walks from our room to the sliding glass door, presses the buzzer. “Doe,” he says, letting the cop know who was returning. “John Doe to West 68.”
There’s a long pause. “Who?” the cop says finally.
This guy is already really embarrassed. He shuffles his feet. “John Doe to West 68,” he repeats.
The cop’s mike switches on and catches the end of a laugh. “WHO?”
“John Doe, D-O-E, West 6-“
The door screeches open. “Ha ha ha, oh yeah, come on in, John Doe,what are you shouting for . . .”
Most people I interview have tattoos, and they spend a lot of time absent-mindedly inspecting them. Especially forearm tattoos. I know it’s kind of just something to do with the eyes and hands, but it is very interesting all the same. I kind of mark time by it.
I hear a lot about guys failing to update their addresses. As sex offenders, no one will lease to them, and so they stay with some friends while saving up for a house down-payment. I can understand where they're coming from; who wants your friend’s information in a sex offender database, when they’re just helping you out for a month? And when you do buy a house, what if a day care opens up three houses down? Do you have to move? No one has ever explained any of this.
An unfortunate aspect of interviewing is the typical logical fallacy. For example, an inmate will say, “Why would I touch a gun?!?! I’m a convicted felon!! There’s no way I would pick up a gun!! I know what that would cost me!!” To him, that sort of argument makes total sense, and should be included not only in the text of his narrative, but also in his formal defense. But the fact is, the world doesn’t work this way. The argument is dead the second it sees the light.
I worry that people have a hard time admitting to me they’ve done something unlawful. If they’re hesitant at first, I can sometimes draw it out of them, but not always. I wonder how to make myself more approachable in this respect. I’m horribly curious and maybe they find this offensive? I try to be very professional about it, though. Hrmmm.
I’ve had some people lie to me lately. Personally, that’s okay, because really, what do I care. But I do care about their defense. And, starting next week, if I feel I’m being lied to, I’m going to say something about it. I owe it to their defense to at least make the overture, say, “Listen, I don’t think you’re being completely honest with me. That’s okay, but be aware that I’m writing down what you’re telling me, and it’s all your attorney will have to go on. When he talks with the State Attorney, when he defends you in front of the judge, it’s all going to rely on this story. Be sure this is the one you want to be telling me.” Or something similar. Does anyone have any ideas on what to say? I don’t want to say the wrong thing.
A guy today leaned in close and said to me, “Have you ever seen a kid shit in the corner? I mean really, shit in the corner? And then his sister comes and cleans it up with sheets?? Ain’t nobody every teach them to use the bathroom? What kinda life is that? When you’re six years old and shittin’ in the corner? They like little animals! Animals!”
I still remember my first interview with a tremendous amount of fear. My little room didn’t face a bubble-mirror, so I had no idea when the guy was going to come in. And I didn’t yet know the groans of the sliding glass doors, or the clicks of the interior doors leading to the elevators, so every time I heard a sound, which was a lot, I thought it might be him. I was scared to death. Not of the inmate – though my eyes had not missed his stats: 6’4”, 290 lbs. – but I was scared of doing poorly. Scared of offending him with my very presence, scared he’d think I was judging him. Think, “What the hell is this tall white girl doing, coming in here and asking me about my business?” But I think, interview-wise, I did okay. And on a personal level, the guy got choked up, we talked for a while, it was very difficult for him. It’s difficult for everyone, as you’d imagine, but some are more open with it than others. It’s something I’ll never forget.
I caught our Supervisor reading one of my client’s narratives, and wave away someone trying to ask her something. This really makes me happy; I try to make them like a story, so they read like a story, keep the reader’s interest. I have the inmate tell me their whole story first, then I go back and we write it down, detail by detail. At this point I’ve got a good idea of its timing, and how I need to format it structure. And then we go. Some are more difficult than others.
Apparently the pickles at lunch are really, really, really good.
The first black guy I interviewed did not want to be in the same room with me. So I tried to be very very nice, probably was too nice. He was reticent, trailed off all his sentences, kept his head down, rubbing his forearms, and just made it clear I wasn’t going to get anything out of him without dragging it out. This didn’t upset me personally, I just wanted him to be happy, feel comfortable with me – this was part of his defense, after all. So I got all his information, the interview was over, and just as soon as I said “Thank you,” I mean just as soon as I said Thank you, he changed 180 degrees. He smiled, gave a laugh, shook my hand, and said, “You’re all right, you just keep doin’ a good job. I know you have to pay your bills, so just keep on smiling. That’s what I try to do. Have a good day,” shook my hand again, and about flounced out of the room. Laughing like he’d just had the best time. I broke out into a smile, after I picked my jaw up off the floor. It was extraordinary.
I don’t know why some cops throw away the arrested’s keys. I’ve heard of this 4 times, overheard it really, from inmates who’ve just been released, standing outside the jail. They’re on the phone with someone, trying to figure out how to get in their house. Either the cops purposely threw their keys in a ditch, or in a field, or left the keys on the road where they dropped. And now the guys can’t get in their own house.
Or feed their dogs. 7 puppies, newly weaned, in the house of a guy who got arrested 2 weeks ago. The cop wouldn’t let him put out food for them. He can’t get in touch with anyone to check on them. He cried for about 30 minutes. And all I could do was listen, and write it down. Write it down. Write it all down.
I don’t dare think about that one too much. Told my supervisor. What else can I do.
And then there’s the one who tried to stare me down. That’s okay too. It was interesting, because I’d write what he said, then look up at him to go on, and he’d just stare at me, aggressive, but not overly, trying to see what I’d do or say. It was a stare with a question on the end. And you know, under other circumstances, I’d have looked away very, very fast. I’d have forfeited without a second thought and gone on with life. But here, I just kept his stare. It was kind of an experiment with myself. I’ve never been able to do that before. And I wasn’t staring him down, I was staring his question down. In my mind, I was saying, “I’m here to take your side of the story. You don’t make me nervous, because despite your brawn and what you did, I care more about getting your side of the story. That’s what I’m here for. So give it to me. And if you have to get something out of your system and stare me down for a few seconds, that’s okay too. Because I’m still going to be here, and I’m still going to get your story. That’s what I’m here to do.”
I interviewed 14 people today. !!!!
Trying to teach myself to get used to the smells. Body, mouth, hair, shoes, etc. I mean, it’s not like they’re dangerous - smells are just indicators, as in, “This man smells of wee, it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to swap spit with him.” But the smell itself is not dangerous. It won’t give you a cold, or the flu, or HIV. It just is. Socialization drills into us what is “good” and what is “bad”, why some smells seem offensive, and why others do not. But other than that, the smells don’t mean anything. Not in the jail, anyway. No one’s allowed deodorant (apparently), and most people sleep all day and have sleepy-breath. A lot of them smell like mildew. Why is this bad? I mean, aside from preconceived notions? It’s not going to hurt me, so why be afraid or grossed out?
The interview has ended, and the inmate walks from our room to the sliding glass door, presses the buzzer. “Doe,” he says, letting the cop know who was returning. “John Doe to West 68.”
There’s a long pause. “Who?” the cop says finally.
This guy is already really embarrassed. He shuffles his feet. “John Doe to West 68,” he repeats.
The cop’s mike switches on and catches the end of a laugh. “WHO?”
“John Doe, D-O-E, West 6-“
The door screeches open. “Ha ha ha, oh yeah, come on in, John Doe,what are you shouting for . . .”
posted by i heart public defense at 8:56 PM
1 Comments:
I just wanted to give my 2 cents on the client-who-lies-to-you problem. First, expect it. Second, if you don't believe what they are telling you, the jury and/or judge probably won't either. That's usually how I explain it. Something along the lines of, "I'm not arguing with you, Mr. Smith, but I'm not sure that a jury will buy that...." About the bail, what in the world are the extra $3 for?! I mean $75,003? Also, it's hard to convince judges that bail really is to _secure appearance at trial._ We have few that understand that concept.
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