A case that changed my perspective
By Chris Beck
I was working at the Ventura County Legal Aid clinic where
we provide legal advice to local litigants. I pulled a case and met with a new
participant. We sat at a desk in the Ventura County Law Library and had a
dialogue that changed my perspective in seconds.
The woman told me she has a child, and now the grandparents
from dad's side wanted to take custody. Naturally, I asked why the dad was out
of the picture. She said rather plainly that he was in jail. I asked why, and
she shuddered. She seemed incredibly uneasy with the question. I could tell
right away that I wasn't going to get a normal response, that she was going to
tell me something earth shattering ... and she did. She said dad was not in the
picture because he tried to kill her – the client – and unfortunately for her,
he tried to do it in the most heinous way possible. He had kidnapped her,
stabbed her multiple times and then left her for dead when she dove from the
car to save her own life. She recovered in a local hospital, and now her abuser
was continuing to assert control over her by proxy: through his parents.
I was stunned, shocked, dismayed. I'd need a thesaurus and
Stephen King’s writing skills to describe the horror of what this poor person
went through. I sat, stoically, not knowing what to say. I said the only
plausible thing: I was going to take her case as direct representation. She
needed it. This person had been victimized beyond anything I had ever
encountered in all of my years in legal practice, all the way back to when I
was 17 and working as a legal assistant at a family law office. This person
needed help. The trial was to be heard on a Friday, and by the nature of my
work and availability, I was able to be there that day.
I'm partially jaded when it comes to abuse victims. I
started work in law at age 17 with the Lancaster, Calif. law offices of David
Jefferies, a renowned advocate for domestic violence victims. I recall him
pulling a newspaper from his bookshelf whenever he encountered a victim who was
hesitant to request a restraining order. The article on the front page was of a
woman who was murdered at a Lancaster park by a former partner who had abused
her. She either didn't want the restraining order or she was recalcitrant at
the hearing on the restraining order (I'm not sure which, it's been a good
while.). Regardless, she didn't have the protection, and very unfortunately, she
paid with her life.
My client wasn't in that position. Her abuser was in jail. Nevertheless,
the strings of abuse were extended by her husband through his parents. Mind you,
the parents may have had the best of intentions in seeking custodial time with
their grandchild, but nothing alleviates the trauma of constantly forcing an
abuse victim to visit her abuser’s home, his parents and the memories of the
horror he caused.
It's been over 50 years since Gideon v. Wainright created mandatory representation in criminal matters. Part of the reasoning of
the court included due process concerns and what a legally inarticulate person
stood to lose in the face of zealous representation. In criminal courts, a
person risks their freedom and so the right to counsel rightfully attaches. But
what about losing your child? Even though some parents would put that above their
own freedom, no right to counsel is afforded. Even worse, there are limited to
no legal services in many areas to protect these parties. This injustice is
compounded when the unrepresented party is also the victim of domestic
violence.
The need for volunteers – attorneys that have time, can find
or will make time to help these people – is enormous. The legal clinic the
Ventura County Bar Association now offers is fantastic. But it doesn't satisfy
the needs of those who need direct representation. I would implore all
attorneys to look at the gift we've been given in the ability to practice law
as a call to help those who need our gift the most. There is no civil Gideon and there isn't one on the horizon. Without more volunteers the prevalence of
injustice by a lack of representation will perpetuate like a plague, and the
consequences will be dire.
Christopher
Beck is general counsel for the Housing Authority of the City of San
Buenaventura and counsel for the Housing Authority of the County of Santa
Barbara. This article originally appeared in the July 2016 issue of
Citations (Ventura County Bar Journal). It is reprinted here with permission.