Hello 2012. I’ve been waiting for you.

Posted: January 9th, 2012 by Mirriam.

It’s 9 days into the new year and I haven’t posted anything intriguing yet. Oh, come on, you all are used to waiting and waiting and waiting for my next ever-inspired and inspiring post.  Don’t lie. You say you’d like me to post more but the excitement wanes when there is a post every day or two.  This way I’ve got you wanting more. You need it. You hunger for it.

And, the wait is over.  Here it is.

Shall I make you promises, dear reader? Shall I tell you I will post several times a week or that I will regale you with stories of trials and tribulations that take place in my little solo world? I cannot do that for certainly I shall fail. I promised last year – three posts a week – and we can see from the numbers that I did a terrible job. I was lucky if there were three posts a month. And, most of the time when I did write it was about how I couldn’t write. Tres boring and lame, my loves. Who needs that? I know you certainly do not. And it’s not too much fun for me to write, either.

The other day I talked to a colleague who wants to start blogging this year about sixth amendment issues. I asked him ‘who is your audience’ because at this point we know who mine is. Yes, over there.  I’m looking at you. He said he wanted people to know about things like NDAA – take something that is fairly complex and make it understandable.  Excellent idea, said I. But will you just continue to preach to the choir? I will read about indefinite detention for U.S. citizens on U.S. soil and shake my head and say ‘boo’ ‘hiss’ but will my neighbor? And, what are you trying to do by repeating what’s already been said by so many talking heads? What do we gain by continuously telling others who know our truths what the truth is? So, here is a promise that I will keep.  I will not bore you by endless repetition of why I cannot write.  I will do what I promised last year and that is to keep repeating the mantra that there are very bad things happening in the world and we need to stop them.  We must be change agents. Yeah, that’s what I said.  CHANGE. AGENTS. And, I’ve written post after post on how to do this. We talk to our neighbors and to our families and our friends and to those who worship with us and those we see at New Year’s Eve parties.

And we talk and talk and talk and we find ways to endear ourselves to those in positions to make these changes a reality. Or, if we can’t do that, we become exceptionally annoying and people stop letting us out in public.

Example. I went to a New Year’s Eve party in New Jersey with some very dear friends of mine. The room was filled with writers and people who seemed intellectual from what I could tell.  They would have been intimidating to me if I wasn’t so used to being the new kid on the block and you know, wasn’t just so freaking charming. Anyway, towards the end of the evening one gentleman saw fit to say, for some reason, that marriage was only between a man and a woman. Uh oh. Now, it was 2 a.m. and everyone had been having a good time. There were just 6 of us left sitting around talking and well, he’s a friend of a friend so I should have just let it pass, right? But, it was the New Year and I just couldn’t do it so I told him I disagreed. I asked him to back up what he had to say. I told him I would love to discuss it further with him. Suffice it to say he changed the subject quickly. Do I think he changed his mind? Probably not. But at least next time he wants to say dumb things he might think about it first.

So this is the year I don’t shut up. I hope to not shut up here, but it might not be just here.  Tonight I go to planning meeting of the Northern Virginia Chapter of Virginians Against the Death Penalty and I take up the challenge to discuss the death penalty with anyone who wants to have a go.

This is the year I give more than I’ve gotten. Not to say my do-goodism doesn’t have root in some selfishness (who doesn’t love the endorphin rush of a good deed done?) but I’m tired of sitting on my ass and pressing the keys on a computer and talking to folks who agree with me – well, I do like that but you know what I mean, right?

So here’s to ringing out the old and ringing in the new or whatever it is they say. 2012, I’m here to get you.

 

 

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Doomed to repeat it.

Posted: December 8th, 2011 by Mirriam.

A few weeks ago Brian Tannebaum wrote a post calling for a national conversation on law enforcement. He says ‘it’s time’ as if a police officer pepper spraying a group of peacefully protesting students would stay in our national memory long enough for us to actually have a discussion on it. We, and by ‘we’ I mean those of us who actually have our eyes opened to the way our justice system works, have asked for a conversation for a very, very long time. And we keep hoping that every time an incident comes up it will spur folks on.  You know, like maybe seeing a group of white college students getting sprayed in the face might wake us up to what’s happening in our country. How can one not feel that something needs to change after watching this:

Oh, but COME ON Mirriam, we’ve all already seen that. Why are you so slow with all of this stuff – that was last month’s (week’s, yesterday’s) news.

And now we’ve moved on to something else.  But here’s the thing, nothing has changed still. We are still here:

And perhaps we need to be reminded over and over and over again that these are real people who are standing up for things they believe in and are doing it non-violently. I’ve seen the video of ‘what really happened’ at UC Davis and the theory is those kids deserved it for failing to move along when told. Well, seems to me that in 1963 in Selma, those kids deserved it to since they also failed to abide by a lawful order. It really just depends on what you mean by lawful though, doesn’t it?

Stick our heads in the sand and pretend racism doesn’t exist anymore because we no longer open water hoses on people.  Instead we do this:

 

Wait. That’s China.  That’s not us.  We would never do anything like that. I mean, we are a democracy after all.  A civilized nation that would allow our citizens to, to, you know:

The time for a discussion about law enforcement is now. It’s then, it’s always. Because we do not learn from history, we continue to push forward without ever looking back, until it is just way too late.

Look, I don’t know what those Occupy people are protesting. I really have no idea. I think it has something to do with the staggering downward spiral of our economy – the fact that the rich get richer on the backs of the rest of it. I don’t agree with how they are doing this stuff. I mean, what kind of protest has no real purpose and where is it supposed to lead. But I believe in the power of their voice for whatever and I am kinda proud of them for doing something while the rest of us sit here in our suits and click away at the keyboard. Good for them for showing some courage in the face of all of us (and by us I mean me too) that are apathetic to whatever it is they are saying. And, after all, this is America and people can protest if they feel they need to. Right?

Right?

This is our country and look what we have made of it.  We intend to spread democracy to poor, stupid nations like Afghanistan. We think Iran should not have nuclear power so we send in Drones. We assist in assassinations of our own citizens because we hold ourselves out to be the keeper of all that is good and right and moral and just. And meanwhile we act like savages to one another.

I am posting this after everyone else does so you don’t forget. I will keep posting the same shit from now until things change or I die or get sued again or whatever. But this cannot go on. We must make it stop. And by ‘we’ I mean me and you.

 

 

 

 

 

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Can we talk?

Posted: December 1st, 2011 by Mirriam.

I frequently wonder what other people talk about. I mean, when regular people sit around the dinner table, or drink coffee while packing snack bags for their kids, what is the nature of the discussion going round.  I imagine that most people- partners, spouses, siblings and parents – talk about the kids, work, the goings on of the day.  Don’t forget to pull out the chicken that has been marinating overnight. Jimmy has scouts and I’ve got to be at the shelter until 9.  Typical, work-a-day things. They are, no doubt, of grave importance because otherwise the chicken will go bad, Jimmy will be forgotten at school and sent to foster care, and there will be frantic calls to the police when I’m not home by 7.

These things, as important as they are, well, they aren’t very filling though. I mean, it’s just like looking at your google calendar versus reading Paulo Coehlo’s newest book.  One gives you information and the other gives you inspiration.  I am afraid, perhaps, our daily interactions with other human beings leaves us feeling a bit flat and quite honestly, contributes to our national Brain Death.

I have a few good friends that I speak with on a regular basis. We discuss all sorts of things.  I know their views on things that are important to me like gay marriage, the death penalty, and having your kids wear matching outfits on class trips. I know what they think about hippies and Occupy Wall Street.  And I know what my husband thinks about these things too because we discuss them.  Yes, we do. Like, for real. We talk not only about the fact that Yacob has an ear infection (poor munchkin) but that he, dearest spouse, thinks that “revolutions start like the Occupy protests” to which I reply “you mean with no sense of direction or leadership? Tell me, which successful revolution was started like that?” He is currently reading a book called “God is for dummies” or “The God Myth” yet we discuss whether we’d be okay with our kids being taught the Sufi tradition, if they have to be taught a religion at all.  I know what his take is on gay marriage (pro), the death penalty (against) and matching outfits (what the fuck? on a field trip?)

I watched a GOP debate with my father. He said “Americans think with their stomachs, not with their brains” and I think this is true. I am sorry to tell you but it’s clear we do not encourage each other to be smarter, better, wiser, more knowledgeable.  We tell each other it’s okay when we don’t know things or if we just regurgitate what we’ve heard on Morning Joe or some other show that features talking heads, you know, talking. It’s rude to look at someone askance when you try to discuss the pepper spray incident and they say “yeah, I don’t follow the news.” You can’t say “are you fucking even alive” when you talk about oh, I don’t know, Troy Davis and they’ve never heard of him. But oh lord, I admit I don’t know who Hugh Jackman is and the ladies jump all over me. (Disclaimer, I now know he was the guy who plays Wolverine. So leave me alone.) I can’t tell you if Khloe is the fat Kardashian or the one who was married more than 10 days. But I know about the Udall Amendment’s defeat and now so do the people in my household.  These things are important. Yes, it’s important that I share with my cousins my new Mac Red lipstick purchase and that we dish about the latest Indian flick (I never watch them, I don’t even understand Bollywood).  But its tit for tat. Listen to my political and social ramblings and writings in exchange.

I am shocked sometimes when I ask people well, what does your X think about Y and they say “I don’t know.” And by ‘X’ I mean mother, father, brother, sister, best friend, wife, husband, people at your book club or regularly scheduled events. By “Y” I mean things like I’ve mentioned before and not like what’s their favorite ice cream flavor. What the fuck else do you people talk about if not about the world we live in and life in general? What do you talk about if not how your work affects the way you see things and how you function in the world? Whatever do you say if not why do you think the state should kill people and what do you think is the best answer for redeveloping our economy?

Look, not everyone is a rocket scientist or even a criminal defense lawyer. Most people go to work, do their shift and then come home and are not – wait, what was I called once – oh right, elitist assholes like me. But it makes me wonder why thinking about things makes me an elitist. Is this country not made of people who work hard and are still obligated to make decisions on how we function as a nation? How do we do that if we don’t think about issues with each other, if we don’t talk about them. Here’s the bigger (and really, more insidious) question – how do we get people to come around to our way of thinking if we don’t talk to them about it?

A lot of people think of liberals as scary monsters who are coming to take their paychecks and make them abort their babies. But if we walk amongst them as their own kind, in churches and school and at breakfast, we can change minds on the things that we hold so dear. We can talk to those people we already know, who love us and trust us and we can tell them “you know, it’s not right to allow the state to kill people, what do you think about that?” and then go from there. It’s not okay if people don’t know about things. It’s really just not.

If someone took pity on me and told me who Hugh Jackman was, you can do the same for someone who has never heard of Vladimir Putin.

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To Scott Greenfield – Let’s Talk

Posted: November 7th, 2011 by Mirriam.

I started my blog back up early last year when the clients were few and far between.  I was surprised at many things back then – mostly how blogs were being used for advertising and how many people were talking about things I simply did not understand.  I found a great group of folks to connect with, even though we didn’t always see eye to eye and there were, indeed, conversations and occasionally some harsh words were thrown around.  But the blogosphere was a vibrant place and I was happy to be a part of it.

But then the clients came and I got wrapped up in the things that make one a lawyer – driving to and from courts and jails and meeting with people and things. And I became more accustomed to the fact that blogs are advertising, that the way to make money is through the internet and making sure your SEO is in order and that well, you know, this whole thing might just be a giant waste of time and can bring me nothing but grief and the occasional client that I could do without.

But alas, there has been chatter on twitter about the old days and the grand master of the blawgs himself, Scott Greenfield, has written about it most recently in a blog post entitled: The Third Wave of Blogging:  Isolation. And, I’m going to say this much – I feel much lonelier without the blog. I hate not having the back and forth even when there were rotten words being exchanged. I like the chatter and the banter and not knowing if I’d be called out for something I’d said.  More importantly, I liked not being afraid of being called out for something I said.

Here’s the truth – I love to write. I have a million words inside me every day that make it to the drafts section of this page but never see the light of day. Just today I started a post on why I became  lawyer (it’s because of my mother you know) and last week I started one that compared why I run to why I am a trial lawyer (who can never get a case to trial, dammit!) I do not want to be isolated any longer. So, let’s talk.

 

 

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Maryland Wins! Padilla is retroactive (but not for you who’ve been snoozing too long)

Posted: November 7th, 2011 by Mirriam.

And so it goes – I’ve been waiting on this decision for a while. I lie, I thought the decision would come from a different case and not this one that I posted about last year in which the Maryland Court of Special Appeals (the intermediate appellate court), just days before Padilla and held, basically, the absolute opposite of Padilla.  Not to be outdone by those pesky Supremes who, occassionally get it right, the  Court of Special Appeals  issued a decision holding that  Padilla was not retroactive in Maryland. Ah shucks, time for the Court of Appeals to tell us what to do.  So we waited and waited and waited and wrote writs that said that Miller was on Appeal to the high court and we waited.

Last week, the Maryland Court of Appeals ruled in Denisyuk that Padilla is, in fact retroactive but only to the effective date of that terrible law – the Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act of 1996 (IRAIRA as it’s known in cool kid immigration speak.)  What does this mean for you?  Well, if you plead guilty after April 1, 1997 you can use a Padilla based argument in your coram nobis application (assuming you are not on probation or parole or still incarcerated).  If your plead before then, you might be SOL.

That’s all folks.

 

 

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What not to wear. Yes, I’m writing about clothing.

Posted: October 13th, 2011 by Mirriam.

I’ve been lucky enough to hop around in court over the past several months and have even had some nifty misdemeanor court appearances.  Listen up folks, anyone who thinks they are too good for misdemeanor work doesn’t know the joy of a 19 year old client who is thrilled to pieces over his nolle for an open container (which is a misdemeanor in Maryland, by the way, even though it only carries, as a penalty, a fine of $100.00.  But, for the rest of your life you check ‘yes’ on the box ‘have you ever been convicted of a crime.’) Anyway, being in local court means you see lots of local attorneys and yes, you get to see the public defenders who do incredible work. I mean, really, who is more knowledgeable about the court, the prosecutors and the cops than the men and women who toil in those courts day in and day out?  It is a thankless job and you can see it on their faces.

Dearest public defenders, please answer me this – why do we see it in your clothes?

I know, I know, I’m the first one to roll my eyes when people start talking about clothing that should and should not be worn to the office or to court.  I cannot abide the ABA writing about wearing jumpers versus manly suits or whether I can wear open toed patent leather heels to court. (The answer, by the way, is yes.  Yes, I can.) I saw a post about what color nail polish you should wear to work, for Christ’s sake. I mean, come on. That is just ridiculous. Why would you waste your time on something that trivial?  But here, today, I’m going to write about clothes. And I am going to say this because I just can’t not say it.

- You should dress like you know what you are doing. You should. It’s true. You should dress like you are a lawyer who is going to court and representing clients even if they are clients who have not paid you because you are a public defender.  You should not look like a lawyer who does not get paid to be in court because, well, you do get paid to be in court, just not by individual clients.

Am I being hypocritical here? “Hey notguilty, you are always talking about how it’s what you say that matters and whether you can actually practice law, not what you wear. Isn’t this just another blog about fashion?”

Well, maybe. But let’s make it clear that I start from the premise that if you dress like a turd and act like a turd it doesn’t matter.  And if you dress like a turd but say amazing things and get incredible results then it also doesn’t matter.  However, if people are starting from zero – meaning “Oh, you aren’t a real lawyer, you are a PD” why reinforce that with looking like you actually don’t care about the people you represent since you can’t be bothered to dress for the event.

I know PD’s don’t make a lot of money.  I also know they have the free-spirited hearts of hippies and, therefore, dress like hippies. But at some point in order to be taken seriously by your clients you have to put away your clearly thrift store purchased blue corduroy blazer and throw on a smart suit and a pair of heels (please get rid of the brown loafers, I BEG OF YOU) and act like you are exactly what you are – the one other person, besides the prosecutor, who knows that courtroom like the back of her hand.

 

 

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The truth of your convictions- aka talking to parents on the playground about the death penalty and whatnot.

Posted: October 12th, 2011 by Mirriam.

Here’s the truth – sometimes there is just too much to say. You start and stop and stop and start and then the thoughts come:  If I say this, who will I upset?  Who will disagree and will I have to face the wrath of my friends or family for speaking what I believe.  I probably shouldn’t care, just brush it off, you know Fuck you and all this is who I am and if you don’t like it then I don’t care.  But here’s another truth – I do care what some people think.  I care about what my mom thinks, I care about what my cousins (hey you guys!) who read this blog think to the extent that they may be less willing to share what they think with me when I tell the world what I think.  I care less about what neighbors think about all of this but it does affect me to some extent.

The other day my husband asked if maybe we should put aside our convictions ‘for the sake of the children’ meaning maybe I shouldn’t be so outspoken about issues like gay marriage or, you know, civil rights in general, so that our kids might not be ostracized on the schoolyard and they can be invited over for playdates.

The other day Yacob came home and asked where thunder came from.  Drue gave him an explanation that was all scientific and Yacob accepted it as truth but then said “Alex says God makes thunder” and Drue said “Well, Alex is wrong.”   I’m hoping Alex’s parents know that there is, in fact, a scientific explanation for thunder and were just too tired or lazy or, like me, just didn’t know the answer and don’t really mean that there is no other explanation.  But I think saying things like “Alex is wrong” won’t help them much either.  I mean, they will go to school and tell Alex he is wrong, that god doesn’t make thunder.  Then Alex goes home and tells his parents that we said he is wrong about god making thunder and then our Y’s don’t get to go to the sleepover.  So you know, I write a post about gay marriage and how I think if you oppose gay marriage you are a tool and then some folks that I’m friends with on facebook read it and then think I think they are a tool because they think gay marriage is wrong (I actually might think you are a tool but that doesn’t mean I won’t talk to you and maybe try to convert you to my way of thinking) and then my kids aren’t playing with your kids because you are against gay marriage and I am for it.  Part of me is terribly traumatized by that fact that my children will be affected by the things I believe. But how could I ever have thought it would be any other way? I am, indeed, naive to my very core.

Anyway, as you can see, Drue and I agreed that there was no way we were going to back off because that would mean not teaching them the things that they need to be taught.  And, you readers know that there are lots of things that need to be taught if you are going to have kids that aren’t douchebags.  And the only rule for my boys is that they not grow up to be douchebags.  They might be gay or blue collar or fancy English professors, really none of that matters as long as they are thoughtful and kind when it is appropriate and fundamentally non-douchey.

And so, as you can see (that’s a lie, there is no way you can tell where this post is headed), this is just another long introduction into another post about the death penalty which is really a post about religion and hate and vengeance and what we tell our children about all of this.

Last we met we talked about the clapping for the death penalty and I acted like it was so shocking to me that that could happen and people could be so in favor of it – WHAT? There are people who want people to die? How could that be? Gasp. This is, in fact, an untruth. I was, for a good portion of my life, in favor of the death penalty.  If you ask me why I cannot tell you.  I’m sure I spouted off the same nonsense as everyone else and I have to tell you I can’t even type it because it sounds so dumb and I have a hard time thinking that I believed it because it doesn’t make any sense. I thought what?  That we could prevent people from killing people if we killed them?  We know that is a myth, there is no deterrent value in capital punishment. Was my argument that we kill people because it is the ultimate punishment? That seems terribly simplistic and, and, uhhhh.   Hmmmm.   Help me out here.  Wait, I got it – We kill people to show that human life – ALL human life – has value.  Yes, that must be it.  What could be more valuable than a human life? And if someone takes that life we must show them  that they really, really shouldn’t have done that. Wait, that doesn’t make sense, does it? I mean, they are dead so it’s not like the lesson is for them. Is the lesson for everyone else? Like, hey you, life is really important unless you kill someone in which case your life isn’t important anymore and we take it from you because you have forfeited it. I suppose that makes sense if you believe falliable humans should be left to make such decisions such as, you know, life having no value. I don’t buy it though. There is a fundamental flaw with the argument that we take life to prove the sanctity of all life – except the life of the person we kill.

We kill people not to show that we love humanity. We kill because we are a vengenful, terrible lot. We kill because we believe that our god justifies it and, as John Grisham said when he accepted the Harper Lee prize just a few months ago, because we hear it from the pulpit and in our communities.

I’ve been doing a bit of research about religious teachings on the death penalty and have been shocked to see that almost every organized religion favors it in some form or fashion. I’ve written before on my own crises of faith and giving up the last remnants of the religion in which I was raised because of my inability to reconcile what I know to be good and true and, quite honestly, with how I behave, with the dogma of the faith. I could not make excuses for the fact that the text supports beating wives, stoning adulterers, or giving women’s testimony less value than that of a man’s.  I could ignore those things and talk about what a good, faithful Muslim I am in my heart while sipping a Martini and going to work in a skirt. These are the trappings of religion. And religion, these days, seems so terribly devoid of the god on which it was originally based that I simply cannot find it terribly useful except to the extent that it provides a cultural framework for my family.  And so, for the most part, I have chosen not to pretend to follow the doctrines any longer. I do not fast, I do not pray. I do not dismiss the notion of a higher power and the wonderment of all that is around me. But I will not cover my hair or believe that god has decreed that man has the power to take another man’s life.

And here is yet another thing.  When my parents talk about killing people who do bad things, they talk about people being drawn and quartered.  There is no concern for the last meal of the condemned, no worry about whether he suffers by using drugs that would ‘hurt’ or that are used on animals.  The goal is to inflict pain and suffering so that in their last moments they can regret what they’ve done.  Here, in this ‘civilized’ country, we strap people down onto a gurney and treat it like some routine medical event. As opposed to an execution, a murder.   When my parents and people from Afghanistan talk about the death penalty, the root of the act comes through – our hearts are hurting and we want you to pay for what you’ve done.  There is honesty in their beliefs, there is no cloaking it in words like ‘justice’ or ‘due process’ or ‘rights’ it is what it is, a childish and vindictive act. Nothing more, nothing less.

If only we were so brave here to admit that our desire is nothing more than bloodlust. We want them to die for the pain inflicted on us despite how wrong it is.

So, how, my friends, do we change this thing? How do we stem the tide and how do we change the minds of our friends and family who insist that the death penalty is god approved, that is is good and just and righteous?  So much of the time we are preaching to the choir. I know most of the folks who read this blog will agree that capital punishment is bad.  After all, birds of a feather and whatnot. But how do I change the mind of the other parents on the playground who are teaching their children that capital punishment is okay because in order to stop this crazy train that’s what we need to do. We need to make sure those baby boys and girls who think that the only explanation for thunder is that God made it don’t believe that their god wants them to kill people.  We have to make them believe that all human life is valuable regardless of the terrible things we humans might do, that if we value the breath of the best of us we must value the breath of the worst of us. If the option is having my kids be invited to birthday parties or having them believe – truly believe- in the sanctity of human life, well, we all know what gets picked, right?

 

 

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