Courthouse Compassion

One of our assignments at the New Orleans Public Defender’s Office is to accompany the public defender to the courthouse and help check in the day’s cases before the judge takes the bench. Checking them in involves checking whether or not they have a lawyer to see if they may be appointed to the Public Defender’s Service, finding out if they know how they want to plead, and taking any notes on issues that might come up during court.

During our time at the Public Defender’s office, most of the people with cases are not in prison and sit in the body of the courthouse in street clothes. They are a stark contrast to the people who have cases but have been staying in Parish Prison. They sit in a small area of benches separated from everyone else, referred to as “the box” and are brought out in handcuffs, ankle cuffs and chains. There is something particularly horrifying about seeing another human being deprived of movement --- no matter what they have been charged with.

They separate the women and the men in the box, and the deputy sits on the bench between them. Two women were sitting close together, chatting occasionally. I had to go over a court form with one woman, and sat down next to her to read it to her line by line. I tried to read as slowly as I could, and stopped to see if she had questions or if there was anything I could make clearer but noticed that her eyes seemed to get bigger as I talked, and she shifted to the extent that she could, uncomfortably. She turned to the woman sitting next to her, and asked for her to explain what I was reading to her and her seat mate proceeded to help me go through the form with her, comforting her to the extent she could with cuffs on.

I though about this moment last night, when Bill Quigley encouraged us to be open to hope and love, and told us about the courage and compassion he had witnessed and wanted to share this moment that I am grateful to have witnessed, and reminded me that as much as we have been confronted with the extent of human failing in the last week, the moments of compassion and love exchanged are incalculable.