(Once again legal columnist Harry K. has graced these pages with another insightful story. Thank you, Harry.)
Powerless, hopeless people sometimes overcompensate for those feelings with anger and rage the court system generally does not tolerate, let alone understand. I learned this from Juanita fairly early in my career of representing poor people accused of criminal activities.
Juanita took $400 worth of merchandise from Filene’s Basement. She admitted her guilt and was placed on probation with a sentence of 60 days in jail if she screwed up. It should have been easy, but for Juanita, it was anything but.
Just a month shy of finishing probation, Juanita was driving her jalopy out to a decidedly white part of Boston in order to braid a friend’s hair. A police officer saw her approaching the parking lot at a “high rate of speed.” He followed her, watched her legally park the car, and then pulled in behind. She was already halfway to her friend’s door when the officer stopped her to request a license and registration. Juanita’s temporary license was at her mother’s. She knew that being stopped without having it might be cause for a problem, so she asked the officer “What for?” in what was probably not a particularly respectful tone–if her voice in the retelling was any indication.
“You were going a little fast back there.”
The cop said Juanita shoved him. Juanita denied it. The cop said he tried to arrest her and she “flailed her arms” screaming all the while. Juanita denied it. The cop said it took two officers to arrest her and that she shoved the second officer too. Juanita denied it.
Juanita was unable to meet with me in advance of her probation violation hearing so we met in the hallway of the courthouse and talked for some time about what had occurred. In the course of our conversation I realized that there was a problem with dates. The police report of the incident said that Juanita shoved the officers on June 9, but the document giving her notice of the probation violation said that she had committed an assault and battery on a police officer on June 10. It turns out there was another police report for another incident on June 10. It involved the same cop and the same parking lot. Supposedly, Juanita had tried to run him down with her jalopy. She was not arrested or charged, but it could NOT have been a charge of assault and battery on a police officer as recited on the notice. So which was it? The notice said the right date but the wrong offense or, the right offense on the wrong date. These due process defects were going to be my reasons to request a continuance.
I started to explain my thinking but she went on and on about how she hadn’t done anything wrong. I told her I believed and understood her, but it was not something I needed to tell the judge at the hearing. I explained that I would ask for a dismissal, but we could really only hope for some more time (during which one hope, among others, would be that she would demonstrate good reasons for not being sent to jail for 60 days). Her back stiffened, her speech switched from play-by-play to color commentary about what had happened. She was especially mad because I was going to argue a legal point rather than telling the judge that she had done nothing wrong and was a good person.
Suddenly she said, “I don’t want you representing me no more. If you ain’t gonna tell the judge I didn’t do nothing wrong, I just don’t want you.” I apologized, realizing that enthusiasm for my own agenda had overshadowed my client’s need to be heard.
“Juanita, I’m sorry, I will tell the judge whatever you want me to, so long as it does not hurt your case.”
She had me practice what she wanted me to say in front of her. “No, no, you ain’t saying it right. You ain’t saying I didn’t do nothing wrong!”
To borrow a term from the police report, she flailed her arms. “You gotta tell ‘em that other charge (she had been charged with hitting a cop several years before) was bullshit and was dismissed.” I, though, didn’t think it should mentioned at all.
“Who ARE you, anyway? Are you my lawyer or what? I want you to tell ‘em that wasn’t nothing and I ain’t done nothing and this here is bullshit too! And you know what? I want another damn lawyer!”
I tried capitulation, cajoling, both to no avail.
Juanita shook her head and walked away waving dismissively, “Yeah, yeah.”
The cop arrived and Juanita approached him in the hall, hand on hip, head cocked to the side. “Did you say I hit you? DID you?” I told her not to speak to the officer. She said, “I’m just asking him a question, I can do THAT, can’t I?”
She had a point.
Her case was called and I moved to withdraw as her lawyer. The judge asked Juanita if that was what she wanted. She hesitated almost imperceptibly, but then said, “I don’t want HER no more, that’s for damn sure.”
A new attorney was appointed and the judge gave him a date to return for a hearing– just one week later. Juanita had apparently liked my plan of getting much more time, because she went ballistic. Her arms truly flailing now, she started yelling, “NO, NO, NO. I want another date. I have two kids. I can’t be here then, I need another fucking date man, this is more bullshit!”
The judge simply said, “Take her into custody.”
Juanita calmed slightly and said, “Ahh, what the fuck. Shit man, okay, okay.” Ramping up again and worried she might not be able to reach her new attorney from jail, Juanita yelled to the assembly, “Don’t I get no piece of paper or nothing? Fucking shit ass bullshit motherfuckers!”
My briefcase was packed and I headed for the door. I heard her shout “Raggedy ass BITCH!” I hoped she was yelling at her probation officer so I kept walking away chagrined, but grateful to Juanita for an important lesson learned. If I planned to remain in this line of work, I’d better learn to listen to my clients–even if their powerlessness speaks with rude profanity.
“The greatest oak was once a little nut who held its ground….”