To reflect on my experiences this summer, I would like to share three stories.
A critical learning moment
I was sitting in the office’s extra conference room that was my makeshift office for the summer when I heard a knock on the door. I turned to see a man I had never seen before open the door and ask, “Can I join you?” There are many layers of security in the office, so I knew he was somehow affiliated with FPD. After a flustered attempt on my part to discover who he was, he explained he was an attorney that usually worked in a different office and was in Raleigh for court. We became fast friends. We talked about his experiences working in Mexico before becoming a lawyer and our shared frustration with learning Spanish as non-native speakers. I told him I was interested in immigration law, but I was unsure of how to go about it. The “illegal” buzzword has been used regarding immigrants and deportation, and I did not know how the system truly worked. Mr. Todd graciously explained how some of his clients technically were immigration cases, even though they were federal criminal cases primarily. I learned that most deportation and immigration cases are civil, and that being undocumented in the U.S. cannot constitute a crime. Most cases Mr. Todd saw were cases where Spanish-speaking immigrants misunderstood a question on their VISA/citizenship forms that essentially asks, “Have you ever done anything bad?”. They would select “no”, but any prior misdemeanor that could be discovered later would then be grounds for deportation under the charge of lying on federal documentation. This discussion made me more passionate about linguistic justice in law and opened my eyes to another side of the legal field.
My most meaningful moment
I opened my work inbox to an email from my supervisor with a client’s name in the subject line. I was hoping for good news, as this client had recently shown impressive effort to improve and leave rehab. However, the email was a short statement alerting me that the client had been missing from rehab for a few days and was believed to be using again. I was crushed. The meeting I attended with this client was the first client I met during the summer, and I felt very emotionally attached to the case. This brought up a recurring concern of mine for practicing criminal law in the future– would it be possible to work in public defense without the disappointment burning me out? I approached another lawyer with this exact question, and she said something that changed my view on public defense. She said that she sticks with this career because the passion of caring for people that others have abandoned and the public defenders’ focus on finding the good in people have kept her hopeful for the world at large. After spending the summer working directly with clients, I see what she means. Even though the client before relapsed, I had seen genuine improvement in her life. Even the worst of the worst clients I worked for this summer had aspects of their lives worth commending. This conversation reaffirmed my belief that people are inherently good, even if circumstances and upbringing put some at a disadvantage.
Myths and stereotypes surrounding FPDs
One myth about public defenders at any level is that they are worse lawyers than private defense attorneys. This myth tends to stem from the idea that, because private defense attorneys cost more, they must be doing higher quality work. I have seen clients in the middle of a hearing refuse the help of a public defender because they do not trust them to do their job effectively. However, I have also seen that same public defender hunched over a desk after hours of work, with the law, government, and his own client against him, but still tirelessly pursuing the best for his client. The vast majority of public defenders are fueled by a genuine desire to help others, and this mission is propped up by years of education and intensive study. Sometimes, a private defense attorney may be able to spend more time than a public defender working on one specific case because they can afford to dismiss work, but that is due to a lack of resources between offices rather than a lack of quality.
