What you are about to read was written as a comment to my repost of Norm Pattis‘s mother’s day post.  Anyway, the purpose of my post was not to call anyone in particular out, but I wanted people, mothers in particular, to think of all of this in a different way – from the perspective of a mother whose child stands accused.  The comment is very well written, and I would hate for it to get lost in the mix between the Facebook note that this blog becomes and the feeds that pick it up (or however that works).  Anyway, here it is:

I am a Mom. I am not an Attorney. I read this blog the first time because you were my friend. I continue to read it because it’s well written, funny, thought-provoking and I enjoy it. I don’t often comment on the legal stuff, as I don’t want to be out-classed by the experts, but since you called for the Moms, and I feel I am somewhat of an expert there, I am bold enough to tread into the unknown zone.

I read Norm Pattis’ Mothers Day Entry; my heart felt bad for those poor Mothers. I then read Norm’s “Defending Sex Offenders” blog – the question of the word of an 8 year-old child to convict. I don’t know what the answers are.

I believe in my heart that the Constitution has to protect us all; if it doesn’t, the whole system crumbles. What’s to stop someone from planting evidence because they “just know” the person is guilty, but dammit – they just can’t PROVE it beyond a reasonable doubt, or denying someone a trial by jury because while they KNOW he’s guilty, they fear the jury won’t “get it”. I understand intellectually that the protection of Defendants, both the guilty & the wrongly accused, protect MY Civil Rights — I get it, I get it, I get it. Even getting it, I don’t have the Call to love those Rights enough to defend the accused, unless I believed them to be innocent. There is a vigilante in me that wants justice. There is an emotional response to a violent crime, a rape, a child murdered – that makes me want to grab the nearest noose and rile the mob. In my head I get the Accused is entitled to the best defense, entitled to every Right from Miranda to Appeal, but my heart yells for a pound of their flesh.

I don’t confuse Criminal Defense with an Attorney that must love the murderers, rapists and child molesters so much that they want them to go free and walk among the innocent to commit more crime. I like to believe that those that do it have a zealot’s passion for JUSTICE for the accused: make sure they have a fair trial, make sure they get excellent representation, make sure they understand the plea being offered, make sure they are not browbeat into a confession, make sure they are treated like a human being and not suffering inhumane treatment even when accused of the most heinous, etc. I GET IT.

And yet part of me still longs for an eye for an eye. The emotional part, the part that discounts reason and reacts. The part that doesn’t think about how I would feel the day after I slipped the knot and kicked the chair of the accused. I don’t long for vigilante justice enough to want the rights of others violated, but I don’t not want it enough to stand up and defend them either.

If I ever ask “How do you do this?” it’s because I am filled with wonder and admiration at the strength, passion and conviction that inspires you to devote your life to protecting the rights of us ALL, not just your clients.