Wesleyan and Prison, together at last!

Hi President Roth,
I graduated from Wesleyan in 2003 and have spent a lot of the past 3 years I was in law school working in federal and state prisons. That work changed my life and colors the way I think about almost everything now, personally and professionally. I was so happy and proud to read the recent NY Times article about the Center for Prison Education. I think it's amazing not only for inmate students but for Wesleyan students to have the exposure and experience that spending time inside a prison is-- yet another way that Wesleyan is creating socially-conscious critical-thinkers.
As an alum, I find reasons to be proud of Wesleyan regularly-- but this one really struck me. I just wanted to relay my enthusiasm and let you know my little corner of the alumni network is bursting its buttons.

Thanks,

Sarah
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"I'm Still Hoping for a New Day Every 24 Hours"

That's a quote from one of the Restorative Justice class participants I saw graduate from the program on Monday at Columbia Correctional Institution. There was a lot that was really cool about it-- not only did the official diploma holders and speeches and so on mean a lot to a bunch of guys in maximum security prison, many of who have never successfully completed anything in their lives... but it was also cool that the reverend who runs the program brought all of these parishioners from his church to watch. Most of them had never been in a prison before, and now their experience was moving, uplifting, eloquent and replete with cake! MLKJ was quoted no fewer than 7 times and a really lovely allegory (it's all over the internet, like here) was told in the graduation speeches.

I hate prison. I hate the idea of it and I hate what it does to people. Going to prison is exhausting, even for me, just for the day. I find myself thinking about people who are in prison while I am going about doing other things... they are just still right there. It's interesting and depressing to see the different stages of acceptance and growth inmates have. I am not sure what I would do. At lunch on Monday, one of the social workers from the prison told us going to prison is her worst nightmare. She claimed she would kill herself before going to prison. I have been doing this small job since last spring, responding to inmate research requests from the federal supermax. Read about what it's like to be there. Twenty three hours a days in a cell alone. One hour of exercise. No contact with other people. I can't even imagine. I've responded to letters and had regular correspondence with some pretty illustrious guys over there... famous in the world of crime and "terror." This semester since now I am on a flatrate instead of an hourly payscale, I have found myself getting annoyed with some of the requests... I got one the other day, though, that jarred me out of being annoyed. I had provided this guy some divorce materials for Colorado, forms he could fill out and file himself. He wrote back, thanking me profusely and asking for a couple of other things. He included a copy of a form letter from the Colorado Bar... he had asked for referrals and they gave him an sheet of websites and phone numbers. Well, he mentioned, he doesn't have access to the internet. Or a phone. So could I just go to the website and tell him if there is a mailing address and what it is. "We are only allowed to send letters." Today I sent four letters to four different guys who, according to an old New York Times article were convicted together, two are cousins... I wondered if they even knew the others were there also? Did they all find me separately? How would they tell each other to write to me?

Anyway... most prisons are nothing like that. I am continually impressed by the brotherhood among inmates and how many help one another out. So I saw that on Monday, as well. Even though I missed out on the cake.

Upcoming Professional

After spending some quality writing a motion about a fake case. And outlining a cross-examination of a fake cop in the fake case, I thought I should reward myself by bringing my leftover giftcards to the sale rack at the Gap. And so I did. I did vigilante pants shopping and walked away with two pairs of pants suitable for work that fit just fine and came off the sale rack. This is, of course, a raging success. But I also tried on a bunch of white shirts, some of which fit fine... but were all kind of translucent. On top of their see-through nature, I was also trying them on with a black bra, so the effect was particularly Carrie Bradshaw Business Casual. Now, this presents a problem for someone like me. I am not dressing demurely sexy business casual in order to catch the eye of the cute senior associate one of the late nights we spend pouring over discovery boxes.... nope, I am wearing these clothes to prison. Or, in the alternative, to jail and court. This is not the time to be demurely sexy. Or sexy. Or translucent.
So, I didn't get any shirts. But I did kind of like that whole Carrie Bradshaw part.

Scholastic Updates

In chronological order over the past week:

1. I more or less quit grad school. Emphasis on the more. I dropped a class and mentally decided it's ok not to do the dual-degree. There are a number of reasons I decided this, chiefly that I started it because I thought it would be fun and I have been finding it neither fun nor rewarding. I didn't want to stay more time in school to complete it and if I did complete it in three years, I would miss other opportunities. Dropping this class was a hassle and a half and really made me miss attending small school where if there was a bureaucratic problem I could direct each agent the other, across the hall of North College.

2. Last Friday was law prom, which I did not attend. I didn't go last year, either, because we had tickets the Decemberists. I would like to say I didn't go because I am too cool. The truth is feeling alienated, unattractive and totally F-ED in a certain class that shall remain nameless except that it rhymes with Kevifence... made it seem like maybe I should be doing something other than wearing too little clothing and getting black-out drunk. Maybe.

3. Yesterday I was elected Symposium Editor of the Journal. Even more than my position, we have an amazing board that I am really looking forward to working with. And, of course, I will put together a butt-kicking Symposium.

4. And then this morning I won award about caring about poor people.

5. And then this afternoon learned I got one of the Project Assistant positions in the clinic I've been working in for the past year. This means next year I work for them 14 hours/week and in exchange do not pay for school. And am paid a stipend. And get health insurance. It's basically the best thing that has happened in a while. Charlie actually got one of the other two positions. Which not only means we continue to be a pukey puke puke power couple, but a power couple that will have about $75,000 less in debt than they would have otherwise.

Success!

One good thing that happened last week:

I have a client at prison who was arrested for assault and bailed out of jail. While he was out, he was arrested for his federal crime and sentenced to something like 12 years. So this old charge, which had turned into a warrant was hanging over his head. And so long as something like that is out there, he couldn't go to a halfway house and couldn't complete the full drug treatment program in prison. 48 states have signed on to something that means they have to deal with things like this if the inmate asks for it, but his warrant and assault were on one of the two that aren't signed on. So I spent June-January trying everything I could think of to get this judge in Mississippi to deal with it, I even found a Mississippi lawyer who was willing to help us out. Nothing ever worked and in February I finally told the client I was really sorry and fustrated (although I am sure not as frustrated as he is since I get to eat sushi and go to Target) but there was nothing we could do.
So meanwhile, the U.S. Sentencing Commission was reducing the disparity between cocaine and crack sentences, Congress was approving it and the world of federal criminal law was gearing to figure out what the hell was going to happen when the new guidelines went retroactive on March 3.
Well, apparently what the hell happened was that my client's sentence was effected and he was let out on the 4th. It's a strange and kind of unsatisfactory end to the whole episode. I mean, we count it as a "win," no doubt... but as wrong as it was to deny him the full drug treatment program and transitional housing as a policy... telling him to pack it up and get out after 10 or so years in prison is unsettling, too.

Unrelated:
In Madison, the mayor's name is "Mayor Dave" and he says it's spring time now.

And I like this. Because while I am pro-smoking ban, I am more pro-cleverness.

Family Law, Again

I guess that wasn't all I had to say about Family Law, but this is more about legal education in general. (As a side note, that post right before bed gave me this bizarro bad dream about family issues, but that won't be blogged about.) There are no doubt flaws in my clinical experience, some things are repetitive and it gets down right depressing how infrequently I am actually able to do something about peoples' problems. (It is a neverending source of amazement what is totally unfair and completely legal. Or "close enough." We call that "harmless error" and I am sure spending the majority of the rest of your life in prison feels a lot better when a bright-eyed twentysomething tells you it's because of a "harmless" error.) But I cannot imagine doing the second two years of law school without it. It's an outlet, it makes things relevant and interesting to me, centers me on why I am doing this whole silly enterprise. I have a client who told me at our last meeting that my advice on his out-of-state child support was great, he'd do that and by the way, the mother and child moved to a different state. "Whoooaaah, ok, well... that actually makes a difference... let me get back to you about the best plan of action there? " So I am meeting with my supervising attorney, asking her whether the whole thing gets transferred over to the new state, what about the unpaid portion, etc? And she starts asking me where the child was born, where the mother is from, how long they lived in the first state and I am midway into explaining all of this... before I realize, I am taking Conflict of Laws this semester, this is exactly what I am learning about-- how different systems interact and which law is used. There is a serious flaw in the legal education that keeps everything at this intellectual level, so much that you can't or don't access it when it comes up in real life... Jesus christ, I had read cases about child support for that class 2 days before! Ok, that's all for now. It's another day. Finals are so fucking boring.

They were right?

You know that (what a quick google tells me is a Woody Allen) quote about 80% of success being showing up? Well, I had an interview today, which likely won't lead to a job, but this woman loved me. Unfortunately, the timing is off and they've made offers to people they (unbeknown to me) interviewed in August. But the reasons she listed as being impressed by me? I sent her a personalized cover letter, I followed up via email and, for a job with the federal defender, said I wanted to do criminal defense. This all pretty much amounts to "showing up," I think.
The last one, for me, this happens to be completely true but I had to ask, "what do the rest of them SAY?" That they're looking to experiment. Or gain experience. Come on people, it seems like rule one of applying for any job-- telling the job you want to do that job. Is this another case of law students being so impressed with themselves that they think they're qualified for whatever and so don't even have to express interest? Or is it another basic psychology/interpersonal skill that apparently isn't so basic? If I were applying to do, say, corporate tax litigation (Hi, Anwar, you wanted a mention on the blog, right?), which I am not, for the love of logic, I would tell my corporate tax litigation interviewer that I have wanted to do this since receiving my first W2 and all of my touchy feely people-work was somehow preparing me for this, my chosen career.
The best part of the whole experience, which was overall a great one, was talking to someone who really, truly and passionately loves her job and her work. This is a rare find in any field. I told her I was feeling envious while she talked, because that enthusiasm and passion is what I want in my job, no matter where I end up working and am sometimes afraid I won't find. Too often, especially in the legal realm, we're indoctrinated with this idea that life and work are separate and that intellectual challenge is the most one can expect. But sitting there, enjoying the soup she bought me, listening to her say she is intellectually and emotionally fulfilled by her job and the job makes it easier to get out of bed in the morning... well, it got me excited about the future. And how often in this day and age do we have experiences that make us excited about the future-- personally and communally? A good day in Milwaukee.

Yesterday

I went to prison. At prison, I met the Director of the whole shebang (this guy). And also a delegation from Malawi that included the president, some supreme court justices and the attorney general. Or something. It was a really big day at prison.

Not to be outdone by the attorney general of Malawi, Erin showed up last night for her second one-night engagement in Madison in a month. We ate many kinds of meat and drank many beers. E. and C. each a hamburger, with a bratwurst patty on it, bacon and cheese on a pretzel roll. I had chicken sitting on jalapeno mashed potatoes, smothered in a sauce that included andouille sausage and shrimp. The more meats the better. Oh, and we ordered chicken wings. The waitress was shocked and couldn't help but visibly judge us. Delicious.

My Whole Body Hurts So Much

There are a lot of things I am not doing very well this semester. Like feeling sane. And some that I am doing well, like bringing my lunch and, as of the past week or so, working out regularly again. Not only does the working out (potentially--so far, no results) help with the feeling sane, but also with the difficulty sleeping on account of stress and the newly-bared floors meeting elephantine upstairs neighbors. (I hate them and just wrote a letter to my management company. The follow-up letter will include the case law about their breach of the covenant of quiet enjoyment I've been digging up. It is kind of funny, but for another, much nerdier post.) This post is about being sensible.

Working out regularly is sensible, because aside from the health benefits (physical and psychological. As well as the health benefit of not being incarcerated when I am overtired and finally snap and bludgeon the upstairs neighbors) it is sensible because for some reason, since about May... most of my pants don't fit. Now we can attribute this to whatever we like-- overzealous dryer shrinking them, the finals diet of trader joe's pizza not being the ALLI-without-the-nasty-side-effects it appeared to be in December. Whatever. Short answer, it's not about vanity. It's about being a girl on a budget with the seasons turning. I need pants that fit and I need to not spend money on them. Voila! The gym.

The gym is huge. It costs $30/yr to rent a locker. And $30/yr to take all the classes you want. Funny how I used to pay $72/mo for NYSC. Now, I borrow $30,000/yr to go the gym. And they throw in these nifty JDs and MAs as membership bonuses. At NYSC, the class was called Club Strength. At the UW gym, it's called Group Strength. It's actually way easier, but challenging enough for a girl who is just in it to save money.

Which brings me back to: my whole body hurts so much.

Remedial?

So there is this wing of the family that lives in Madison that isn't really related to me... you may have heard me refer to them. Anyway, I just thought of a funny story. These people are really nice, really, really nice. But there's something about them that doesn't quite connect with me. And they really don't seem to totally connect with each other, it's a lot of watching conversations where you know both people are not thinking about/talking about the same thing-- and not really being in the position to say anything. So I was over there last month, they asked me what I was doing this summer, was I taking classes? I said, no, well, I'm working in a clinic at school-- so it's like a job, but I get credit for it. Then they said, "Oh, so it's like a remedial thing?"

Uh no. It's not a "remedial thing." I tried not to be sassy or visibly shocked. Although I did guffaw a bit.

Do I look remedial to you?

Your friend/Subject of your Internet-stalking is One Class Act

My internet has been down for 2 days. I got huffier and huffier with the cable company until this afternoon when I realized they had turned it off because I hadn't paid since June 2. Hmmm... Classy lady right here, I'll tell you.

In other news, it was beef enchiladas day at Federal Correctional Institution: Oxford.

And no one I know, as far as I know, went into the river yesterday. Phew. Of course it would be a nightmare to be the governor of state when something like the 35W bridge collapse happened. It would be an even larger nightmare if you and your cronies had been gutting public services in the name of lowering taxes for years... who is going to be the one to make THAT point? Gosh, Governor Pawlenty, is the lack of maintenance of the bridge at all related to the deteriorating public school system or the fact that the libraries are open 2 days/week? I sure hope not, with the price of gas these days, I need to save all I can on taxes to fill up the old H2.

The cold, hard truth

The truth is, not really that nothing has been happening. But that I've felt insanely busy. I've been leaving town every weekend (which, except for this weekend, will continue for awhile.) And the days are packed at work, squeezing in SHN stuff and then coming home and working on SHN and journal stuff for a couple of more hours. It's been very minimally social during the week, and feels kind of strange since I think it's the least social I've ever been. It's also a strange feeling since I can see into the future and this is how it's going to be. I didn't really enter this thing (life? law school? trying to make things better?) to work 9-5 and come home to watch tv. I mean, some of that is great, but... Anyway, the point is not only to make distant excuses to my readership/friends about my shitty communication skills, but also because I feel like I am learning to live and be happy (I think) in a completely different way. Unfortunately for my past, but fortunate for my future, finding intellectual and emotional fulfillment from work is kind of a new thing... and I kind of like it.

I also nominate MILLER CHILL for "Beer of the Summer 2007." Votes?

Update

The bike continues to go well. I have a cooler helmet, so it looks like I mean to wear it, not like my mom makes me. Someone broke or stepped on or ran over my rear wheel. And then I got it fixed. And I've been enjoying riding the bike in a skirt, it makes me feel like a slut. No, I am not a slut, just an inconsistent blogger.

Things are busy and little blog-worthy is happening. Except for the riding the bike in the skirt, of course. We went to grandma's house last weekend, I got even more tan. I still spend a day a week in prison, my clients stories make me sad a lot. I have been working for weeks on a letter to a man about why he will never get out of prison. I wish I were wrong, but I don't think I am. I am looking forward to the upcoming fun, all of it.

The kind of person who wants to work in prison...

"Remember Jackson? He's up on a capital murder charge in Arizona. Yep, they're charging the death penalty."

"Cool."

"It was one of those cold cases, they thought his ex-girlfriend died in a fire, now they think he killed her before the fire."

"Well, I hope he gets it!"

How did it become mid-July?

Summer continues to be great. However, if you haven't made plans with me and would like to... I'm busy every weekend until mid-September. Except for the first weekend in August. But I would like to have ONE MORE SUMMER WEEKEND IN MADISON! How did that happen? I guess it does every summer-- at the beginning these endless days are stretching out and once we cruise past the 4th of July... we have to cram everything else in.
This last weekend was fun. Friday night we went to this secret-feeling Italian restaurant a couple of blocks from my house that I learned of by reading the interview with my Civil Procedure professor on the law school website. Apparently it is his favorite place in Madison. It reminded me of that place in Middletown, the name I can't remember, that was in some old brotherhood hall and you ate whatever they made that night, in huge portions. This place had delicious, delicious pizza. And delicious, delicious wine.

Saturday we drove to Chicago and hung out with thousands of other cool kids in the Chicago sunshine at the Pitchfork music festival. It was fun. It made me tired. But not too tired to continue to keep it real at prison, like I did today.

You Learn Something New Everyday...

This is what I learned this weekend.

And this.

And I still burn
And I am still tasty to mosquitos.

Verdict?

Using Westlaw points to buy the first season of Law & Order: poetic genius/justice or the latest slip into biggest law school nerd ever?** Either way, it has arrived and it is totally awesome.

**After recounting stories of some of my clients, my affinity for The Wire and the last book I read... my stepfather last weekend was right to express his concern for my apparent fascination with crime...

Good Sign I Won't End Up in Prison-- I'm Smarter than These Guys

I went to a trial yesterday, the case was kind of funny:
Two guys come up with a great plan, unfortunately one of them gets in a fight with his live-in girlfriend who moves out and tips off the authorities. One of the local casinos is having this promotion where you earn entries in a raffle by gambling (one per hour at the blackjack table, for every so much you pump into the slot machines) and at the end of a six-week period, there were 5 drawings—one each hour for 5 hours for $10,000 each. So these guys get the bright idea to buy 4 reams of “bright orange” paper from OfficeMax and make their own entries on their home copy machine. Since the casino has been tipped off, they’ve been watching these guys come in a few times a day and stuff entries into the drums a few hundred at a time. In total, these guys submitted over 4200 entries EACH. One of them affixed mailing labels to his entries, the other HANDWROTE his. So the day of the drawing comes, one of them wins (since there were 15,000 entries total…their odds were better than ½… even curious they only won 1/5) And now they’re in federal court, the casino has this hilarious 26 minute montage of them thinking they’re clever and stuffing the barrel (as though everything everyone does in a casino were not being recorded. Doh.) and they’re being charged with conspiracy to steal money from the Ho Chunk nation. Doh. Doh. Doh. Doh.

"You Don't Want to Live in My House..."

That was the title of this inmate-produced video we watched the first day of the clinic this summer... another scared-straight program that won't work from the guys at Green Bay Correctional. But goddamned, if there's one thing I've picked up so far this summer, it's that I really, really don't want to go to prison. This also plays into my secretish fears of the inevitability of being a) diagnosed with a terrible, incurable disease and b) being falsely accused of a crime.
To visit it's actually not bad at all, Oxford is institutional in the way all institutions are the same... kind of like a middle school or something. It feels very safe, the inmates have all been really nice and when we spend the whole day there, we eat in this dining facility where they're getting their Associate's degree in something like restaurant management and they make elaborate lunches. And it costs $1.75. Today I had a turkey sandwich, tuna salad with ritz crackers, veggies with dressing and chocolate chip cheesecake. Again, for $1.75. Even so, I don't want to go to prison.
I spent the morning reading some client files in the legal assistant's office in the prison. Their stories are amazing, sad and absurd. There is a document called the Presentence Investigation that a parole board officer writes, thats basically a detailed background of the person, their criminal history, their family and the crime. It's a little insane, because it's so personal. And feels very voyeuristic... but also fascinating in a voyeuristic way. You see them going through a revolving door of prisons, you read about all their kids with all the kids' moms, their prior arrests.
Anyway, it continues to be really interesting. And exhausting.

I'm Don't Have a Job to Offer You...

The start of the clinic last week felt a lot like summer driver's ed or something... mostly familiar faces back in the law school building, sitting through lectures and doing some hands-on stuff... Anyway, there were a lot of "getting to know you." There are only 4 people in my project within the clinic, which means we spend a lot, a lot of time together. Our desks are all in a row, we share a "party line" telephone and we drive to and from the prison together, 1.5 hours each way.
Anyway, in all the "getting to know you" stuff, it started getting so annoying. Annoying because these people are law students and while most of my favorite people in the world are current or former law students... we all know they are SO annoying. So people are introducing themselves, giving brief little biographical sketches... but they all sound like personal statements. And personal statements that all kind of sound the same, except emphasizing whatever they think is the interesting thing about themselves. I hope I don't do this. I think I do, if only because I am so bad at self-promotion that I'd rather recite some boiler-plate explanation of how I am where I am now.
Anyway. The clinic continues to be very interesting. I interviewed two of my clients on Friday, really nice guys. I am taking on more clients and at work on the other cases, it's learning in a whole different way than I was all year. And I like it. I also really, really like having a desk again. I didn't even realize I was missing it, but being able to work and keep my stuff out at a place in the school is totally awesome. Even though I have to buy my own office supplies... er... but I have a desk!