IN THE FED

Young Atticus is back. Please forgive the hiatus.

I was in the United States District Court for the Eastern District of __ today. Nothing big, just a quick routine motion that the higher ups wanted me to handle, likely becase they are too expensive to focus on something so inconsequential. Whatever.

Anyhow, practicing in the fed makes you feel big time, as far as lawyers go. It's in direct opposition to the antiquated and ill equipped state courthouses. In any given town, the fed is laced with high tech flat screens, state of the art security, and rich mahogany all around. Fed courts are very cool looking in general, and my local joint is pretty new, making it even more regal.

So I get up to run my motion. As usual, room full of white folks. The judge was a respected and veteran black jurist, an aging star of the local bar who I have met many times. While I was arguing, my peripheral caught a glimpse of guards leading a prisoner into the on deck circle; I reckoned that his matter would be called next. My man was shackled, orange suited and all.
I finish the motion, and approach the bench to get his honor to sign off on some docs. I glanced at the cover of the file for the next matter, the prisoner. His birthdate was on the cover, 9/18/79, exact same as mine.

I watched the beginning of his matter, a routine bail reduction thing stemming from his possession charge. I certainly don't think that this guy was an uber villain, he probably wasn't even a career criminal. Again, room full of about 30 white people, and three blacks, each being in some way, the man of the moment: myself, the prisoner, and the judge.

All this buildup to say that I couldn't help but think at what point did I zig, and the inmate zag? Had I been privy to some life benefits that he had not? (Probably so, but that certainly assumes that he fit the criminal archetype. Which assumes that he is correctly characterized as a "criminal", and was not falsely accused.) What did I decide to do that he had not chosen to do? When did this decision happen? And what to make of the judge, who was at least 30 years older than both of us? Does the judge's position negate any hardship that the inmate could have claimed, in light of the fact that the judge was likely a trailblazer of some sorts? How did the judge view the two of us; both inheritors of the civil rights movement, the same age, crossing paths before his bench in such opposite ways?

As usual, no answers, just questions.