There was an article in one of the papers today about the death of one of my former clients. She was the first of my clients to pass away (that I know of at least). She was young and she was a severe addict. I once got her out of jail and straight into a detox. The last time I saw her, she remembered me as the lawyer who got her help. She looked healthy. She had a tough life, but she was a genuinely nice person and I’m very sad to hear that she died. I don’t think there were a lot of people who helped her out in her life, so I like to think that I did help her, even a little, even if it didn’t ultimately make a difference.
I have been thinking about this post for about a month and a half now and I’m still not sure exactly how to say it. Basically - I sold out. Sort of. I left the public defender’s office for private practice. BUT it is still criminal defense and my heart is still in the same place. I was not looking to leave the public defender’s office at all. But a judge, of his own accord, passed my name onto a well-known private attorney in solo practice who was looking for an associate. He offered me a job and my world was thrown into turmoil for a few weeks while I wrestled with whether I should leave my beloved job as a PD for an opportunity to do the same kind of work for a different kind of paycheck and a different kind of client. Ultimately, I decided that it was an opportunity that I should not pass up, for many reasons.
I went back yesterday and read the interview I did on Monday Musings last year. I said that I had found the job I was supposed to do, that I couldn’t shake the part of me that gravitates towards the poor. And my heart still aches to think about that. I wanted to use my skill and my soul and my position as someone lucky enough to have a phenomenal education to serve those that were not as privileged as I was. But in the last month, I have worked on cases that I was not getting the opportunity to tackle when I was a public defender, after being passed over for a position to handle superior court cases. I have already written and filed a brief with the Supreme Judicial Court. I’m getting to delve into the law more than I was before, when so much of my time was occupied with triage as a result of too many cases. I’m working longer hours, but my commute has shortened considerably and my paycheck has grown comfortably.
I do mourn the loss of the public defender camaraderie. It is not the same to be a private criminal defense attorney and I know this. There is something special about people who choose to pursue the life of a PD and I thought that I was going to be a part of that for as long as I could. But it’s been a period of a lot of changes and a lot of transitions in my life and I am embracing this particular one. I still feel like I am fighting the good fight.
I still have the urge in me to write, so stay tuned for the future of the blog. I don’t know where it is headed, but I like it being here.
I have put off writing this post for a long time because I was unsure whether to reveal my current turmoil to the world or just power through it. And then I realized that the few but proud readers of this site may be the best ones to help me cope, as I know that I am not the only public defender to feel this way. So here goes…
I am having a crisis of faith. I fear that I am losing my passion, that I am succumbing to the daily pressures, that I am reaching the dreaded burn-out. And I am intensely ashamed of that, because there was rarely a soul that drank the Kool-Aid as deeply as I did. It has barely been a year as a public defender - a mere year! - and I am finding that my patience is waning, that my long nights are getting shorter and shorter, with fewer and fewer things getting checked off that to-do list. And I hate to say it, but a great deal of it is the money issue.
Now, of course I came into this job knowing that I was going to be making crap for money. I was embracing my idealism and eschewing the ease with which my friends were putting down payments on downtown condos. I was doing it for the love, not the money. And all that would still be well and good, except that I am not only living below the means of my friends, I am actually not even able to make ends meet. I am sinking deeper into credit card debt, because my rent constitutes 50% of my pay and the rest simply does not cover food, gas, utilities, and the occasional need for a new suit or a cocktail (nevermind my loan payments). Just last week, I had to replace all four tires on my car because I had worn them to dangerous levels and I have absolutely no idea where that $500 is going to come from. It went on the plastic and that is going to overwhelm me. The theory of living like a righteous warrior fighting the good fight is a lot easier than facing the reality of ever-mounting debt of all kinds. It honestly keeps me up at night.
So I figure that I have three choices - a) keep at it, hoping for a raise or a bonus at the whim of the legislature, while still racking up more and more debt; b) pick up a second job slinging coffee or scanning book purchases and sacrifice the precious few hours I have with my family, boyfriend, or slumber as it is; or c) quit and find something that pays better. Several of you may suggest d) moving closer to work to cut down on expenses, but that would mean having to sacrifice my entire relationship with the man I am going to marry, so I cannot go there. Other than that being thrown out, I honestly do not know what to do. I really, really do not.
The daily grind of difficult clients, overwhelming case loads, frustrating prosecutors, and the rest would be eased enormously by the money issue. In the end, my crisis of faith is not so much about the job, but about the living. I just don’t know if I can do it.
I am at the office on a long weekend because I have a trial scheduled for Wednesday and I spent all day yesterday moving to a new apartment (and every night for the past few weeks packing for it, hence the lack of posts recently). But I am not polishing off my motions in limine or perfecting my cross examinations because I cannot stop reading about and watching Clay Buchholz pitching a no-hitter for the Red Sox last night. Click on the “Buchholz’s no-no: Watch all 27 outs.” I have watched it three times and it makes me CRY. I rarely, rarely miss a Red Sox game, but I could not watch it last night because I was lugging heavy boxes to my new place, where we do not yet have the tv and cable set up. So I missed actually watching it, but it is an amazing feat (and only his second major league start!)
If you have not noticed, I love the Red Sox. Possibly more than I love anything else in the world (loved ones excluded).
Now I really have to get to those jury instructions.
Hey look, I’m alive. Sort of. My first trial is tomorrow. I feel like my heart may explode at any second. This is a difficult case and could go either way. I am just praying that I can keep it together, remember my law, and hear the words “not guilty.”
OK, I have a perfectly legitimate reason for not posting lately. Work is still busy, of course, but more importantly, the “e” key on my laptop has ceased working. So every time I type an “e” I am actually hitting ctrl-v after copying from another page. This is frustrating for me, because I type very fast and this throws off my rhythm. My typing can no longer keep up with my thoughts. And, needless to say, I cannot afford a new laptop on my public defender salary (this one has been decent to me but needs to be replaced for many reasons). Alas, I cannot even afford to get it fixed or even to buy an external keyboard because of an exciting development in my personal life that requires a lot of pennies going towards a first month/last month/deposit payment. So here is my promise - even if it takes me forever to type/edit entries, I am going to post at least one story a day for at least the next week.
It’s Friday night of a long weekend. I worked until 7pm. And tomorrow (after I get an oil change), I am heading to the jail to see three clients and then going to the office to (hopefully) finish two motions.
I also have my first trial scheduled.
It’s just one of those waves. And then, I SWEAR, I will be back to regular posting.
I have a really fantastic post to write but I have barely come up for breath this past week. Work, work, work, work, family, family, work, work. With one break for a Red Sox game with the boyfriend. I will return shortly.
This is a little off-topic from my usual posts, but I had a wicked anxiety dream last night that I just cannot shake. As I have mentioned before, I have not actually had a trial, though I have a few cases that are likely headed that way fairly soon. I also have two motions scheduled for the last week of this month.
Apparently, this impending performance is wreaking havoc on my brain, as I dreamed last night that I was changing into my pajamas one evening when I got a frantic call from the courthouse that my trial was about to start. I had no idea that I had a trial scheduled and had never even met my client before. I didn’t even know what the charges were. I had to get into a suit, drive like crazy, and as soon as I walked into the courtroom, the judge told me to begin my opening statement. The jury was there, waiting for me. And I said…something that made no sense at all. The judge recessed and, for some reason, I went home and didn’t make it back to court on time. When I got back, someone told me my client had been found not guilty. I still had no idea who my client was or what she was charged with. But she was acquitted. So I guess that’s good. But dear god, this feeling of anxiety has been haunting me all day. I know it’s a typical anxiety dream, along the lines of showing up for school and realizing you have to take a final when you didn’t even know you were enrolled in the class. But it’s still terrifying.
