To get us thinking…

    Since I began working for an organization that provides free legal aid for domestic violence victims,  I’ve come to notice one definitive trend amongst those who seek our services — a reluctance to become engaged in a court proceeding. Yes, a lot of  our clients’ desire to avoid the courtroom stems from a fear of facing off with their abuser but I don’t think that is the sole reason. Another motivating factor is a fear of the court system itself, a mistrust in the system’s ability to provide the justice is was built to dispense.

“Justice is the truth in action” the wall of one particular courtroom in a  NYS Supreme Courthouse reads but the truth according to whom? Getting to the truth of the matter in court is not always so simple, even when one has a lawyer. There are rules and procedures for filing court documents, for having evidence admitted, for soliciting testimony. The regulations are endless and can vary between courts. It can be difficult for even the most veteran attorney to recall, but what if I don’t have an attorney? What happens to me then? Even the NYS Family Courts, which are said to “pro se” friendly, can be hard to navigate. If I do manage to file, serve the opposing party properly and make it to my initial court appearance, that is only the start. Take for example,  a child support case, what if my abuser works off the books, I have had no access to our bank accounts or tax returns and he is claiming to have no income? How is the truth about his income going to come out unless I know how to make my case?  How would I know how to make my case if I had not gone to law school? How will justice be carried out?

Beyond just procedural difficulties, the court is built on an air of authority. Yes, sir, no m’am. Its proper and its formal and its intimidating. You wait in long lines at the public entrance and enter through metal detectors; the security guards eyeing you with suspicion. The court staff is overworked and overwhelmed; getting straight answers to your questions can be difficult, if not impossible. You arrive at 9:30 am and don’t see a judge until three hours later; you are on the court’s schedule now, forget about making it to work today. You learn to speak only when you are spoken to, but  sometimes you are too nervous to say what you really need to say to the judge.  One client of ours who had represented herself in a proceeding lamented to me  “Everything happened so fast, I could never get a word in edgewise and even if I had, I didn’t know what to say. It never seemed like the right time to bring up what I had to say.”  Because it was “never the right time” to say what she needed to say, the client endured months of additional harassment that could have been stopped had she known to ask the judge to modify her Order of Protection.

Despite its shortcomings, the court system is, of course, a magnificent tool that can provide our social work clients will invaluable relief. An order from a court can be the difference between a family keeping their apartment or becoming homeless; it can provide safety for a mother and her children who have long suffered abuse; it can allow someone who is wrongfully accused to go free; it can give a crime victim back their peace of mind. The question is though, how can we help our clients to navigate the court system so they can obtain court orders to their benefit? How can we make it easier for them? We can try to find them a lawyer by contacting  Legal Services: NYCNew York Legal Assistance Group or The Legal Aid Society on their behalf. When thats not possible,  as a  last resort, we can sit with them and look for  the proper court forms on Ecourts perhaps. While we are not lawyers and cannot give advice, two heads might prove to be better than one in determining how to fill in the court papers. At the very least, we should  be able to deduce what information the client will need to have with them when they file or attend a hearing.  Maybe its more a matter of helping out clients to work out the logistics…  Can we help them to arrange days off with their employers so that they can attend  their court hearings and wait just as long as it takes? Maybe we can  map out the court’s location, find out where to file or look into what courtroom and which floor their hearing will be held? Just easing some of the initial anxiety of even getting themselves to the courthouse may be extremely helpful. Could we go with them for moral support? This way the client will know that even when they are standing alone in front the judge, there is someone who has their back sitting a few rows behind.  Maybe it all comes down to advocacy again. Can we change the system and help it to become more user friendly? Can we build trust in the court system and improve outcomes?

This is an issue I think of a lot when I go over to the courthouse and, to be honest, I really just end up with more questions than solutions (as you may have noticed) but  I’m thinking about it, and now maybe you are too…I guess thats a start.

PS. Check out this interesting article about the immigrant population and their fear of justice system….

Court Proceedings Lost in Translation

Recently, I found myself stuck in a courtroom waiting on a judge’s signature in the midst of a trial. During said trial, a witness required a court interpreter in order to give his testimony. The interpreter’s role was to relay questions being asked of the witness (in his primary language) as well as the witness’ responses to these questions to the courtroom (in English). The interpreter also relayed translation of discussions that occurred between the opposing party and the judge. As an observer who didn’t speak the primary language of the witness, I found myself engrossed by the interactions between interpreter and witness. How do we know what that the witness is understanding the questions or that they are being interpreted correctly if no one else here speaks that language? Why did the interpreter and witness just have a back and forth exchange when no one was talking to them? Are they talking about me sitting in the back of the courtroom?

It’s a fascinating thing, watching a court interpreter at work. To me, its mind boggling how fast their brains must take in information in one language, translate and then spit it out in a completely different one.  Sometimes the translations seem be happening simultaneously as the words are flowing from the person who is speaking, as if the interpreter is a mind reader!  As fascinated  and impressed as I am with an interpreter’s skill set, I also can not help but feel concerned with the whole process.  How can the witness focus with two people speaking at the same time? How can they completely tune out the English if its their secondary language? Do they trust the interpreter’s translation?

As it turns out, my concerns are not necessarily unfounded. Well, all my concerns except the one about the witness mocking me to the interpreter… I think.   According to a report written in 2011 by the Immigration Court Observation Project, (ICOP) interpretation in immigration courts was determined to be real issue. Interpretations services in many ways appeared to be inadequate.  For example, only statements made to or from the respondent are translated for them causing confusion about what is occurring in the proceedings. It was observed in a number of cases that translation  did not always occur in the proper dialect or, even more disturbing, proper language for the respondent to understand. Despite court interpreters being held to a professional standard of conduct, many appeared to disavow this code.  These issues are not unique to immigration court. At one seminar I attended for work, a domestic violence survivor advocate spoke about these issues plaguing survivors’ experiences in family or matrimonial court as well. In addition, she created awareness that in smaller communities there is an increased probability of the survivor knowing her interpreter. This could cause the survivor to feel intimidated or embarrassed during their testimony which could, in turn, affect its quality.

In thinking about this issue, I wondered how, as a social worker, I could assist clients for whom English is not their primary language when they must make a court appearance. It seems to me, the best course of action would be to prepare our clients prior to their court date, empowering them with knowledge. Our clients should know they are entitled to a court interpreter in their primary language even if they also speak English. They  have a right to a proper translation of their court proceeding. They must be encouraged to raise any concerns about interpretations or the person carrying out the interpretation with their lawyers or, if they are not represented, with the judge.

Another way for social workers to get involved with this issue is through advocacy. Barrier Free Living is working to ensure that domestic violence survivors with hearing impairments are provided with adequate American Sign Language interpreters.  The New York Immigration Coalition  works for justice for immigrants. The Vera Institute of Justice strives to increase fairness in the justice system in numerous ways, this could become one.

Any thoughts?

Housing Relief for Formerly Incarcerated Individuals?!?!

Last Tuesday, in the New York Times, I read about an 85 year old medically ailing inmate named Mr. Koti who was recently denied parole. ( NOTE: Mr Koti has an exemplary prison record and prisoners over 60 have a 1% recidivism rate, btw… real threat but thats a whole ‘nother issue, I digress.) In the article, the author recounts Mr. Koti’s parole hearing.  Mr Koti, in advance of his parole hearing, had accepted an offer from his sister to live with her. “Where does your sister live?” asked the parole commissioner. If Mr. Koti’s answer had been any of the New York City Housing Authority’s (NYCHA) 334 developments (known to the rest of us, outside of the NYCHA office, as “projects”) then Mr. Koti would have had a problem (well if the parole had been granted.) Up until this month many with felony and certain kinds of misdemeanor convictions would be excluded from living on NYCHA property. As social workers working with the prison population surely know, this can be a giant problem. What’s changed this month you ask?

Well, nothing but maybe something. I’ll explain.

This week, through my job, I was invited to a seminar hosted by Safe Horizon where NYCHA officials were asked to speak on the topic of Domestic Violence priority status for NYCHA housing applications. We got a little off topic and one NYCHA employee took a moment (that turned into an hour) to inform us about NYCHA’s new pilot program aptly called “Family Re-entry Pilot Program.”  Through this program, 150 families will be reunited over the next two years in NYCHA housing; families who previously would have been prohibited from doing so on account of one member of their family having a felony conviction.  Former inmates will be referred to this program from NYCHA’s partner agencies like The Fortune Society and Osborne Association. Its my understanding, that the individuals referred to the program must be 18 months post-release and their convictions cannot break the federal guidelines set by HUD.This means they cannot be sex offenders or have been convicted of producing meth in public housing. They cannot be an active substance abuser (an addict who is not participating in a registered treatment program). They cannot have been evicted from public housing on account of drug trafficking  nor can they have received a lifelong ban from residing in public housing. Upon receiving the referral, NYCHA will hold their own screening process that includes a check of the tenancy records of the family that the former prisoner wishes to reunite with and a home visit to make sure the family is on board with the reunification.

Once individuals have been admitted to the program they are granted temporary permission to living in public housing for the next two years. They must agree to be subjected to “intensive case management” for a period of at least 6 months and then “less frequent contact” for a period of up to 18 months.  The family members, other than the formerly incarcerated individual, are not subjected to the same case management standard though they can opt to have a caseworker of their own if they wish. At the end of two years, upon successful completion of the program,  the former inmates can relinquish their temporary permission and become a permanent member of the family composition in the eyes of NYCHA.

NYCHA had its first referral earlier this month.

It’s a very small step, I know, but I, personally, find this program pretty encouraging. It won’t be an easy go, that’s for sure, but I have high hopes that the 150 individuals admitted into the pilot program over the next two years can pave the way for many more family reunifications and brighter futures, without homelessness or recidivism, for former prisoners upon release.

What do you think?

An Introduction

Sometimes its our smallest decisions that end up shaping our futures. Three years ago, I was slinging landscaping stone in California feeling, to put it mildly, unfulfilled. Since, as it turns out, there isn’t a high demand for pebbles made of jade in Southern California, I found myself with a great deal of downtime. I filled this downtime in a variety of ways. I played online scrabble with my co-worker. I napped in the sun on our outdoor patio ( I never said I was a good employee).  I g-chatted with my friends back in my home state of Michigan. During one particularly rainy week, I found myself perusing the The Innocence Project website to pass time. For those of you not familiar with the project (and who are too lazy to click on the link), its a litigation organization dedicated to exonerating wrongfully convicted individuals who are currently in prison. I spent hours reading the stories of people who had been bullied, failed by our criminal justice system and as a result had lost their freedom and, essentially, their life.  I was inspired by the work the Innocence Project undertook to correct current and prevent future injustice.  I wondered how I could get involved in such a pursuit.

Fast forwarding three years, that one small decision to click on a webpage led to a series of rather large decisions. I put an end to the beach and my landscaping pebble days, moved to New York City and completed a paralegal program through NYU’s School of Continuing and Professional Education.  I found a job as a paralegal on a project that provides free legal aid to domestic violence victims and enrolled in the Silver School’s MSW program. In short, I landed myself in a position to further the mission of the Innocence project, correcting and preventing injustice imposed on our country’s most vulnerable populations.

During a recent trip to the Kings County Supreme Court house in my capacity as a paralegal, I rode the elevator from the 10th floor down to 1st with some court employees. As we reached our destination ( I swear I could not even have scripted this if I wanted), one employee said to another who was pushing a file cart, “We really need to get a new wheel for that.”  I looked down to see that the file cart had only three wheels. “It fell off,” he replied. Boy, was he right; The wheel has, so to speak, fallen off of our court system.  Residents in the Bronx are being robbed of due process. The prison system is being used to house our country’s seriously mentally ill. Domestic violence victims have been evicted for calling the police “too many” times on their abuser. Just to name a few….

It is my goal, over the course of next year, to draw some attention to these issues, to the interaction of the populations we most commonly work with and the court system. I’m striving to create discussion around the role of social workers in this area. I want to use this blog to advocate for social justice in our justice system; in effect, propelling my small decision to click on the Innocence Project website years ago into a force for change. And, by doing this, who knows,  maybe, inspire  some others into making “small” decisions of their own.