On Tuesday, I met Judge Davidian outside the Justice Center for the first time. After polite introductions, my parents finally left and allowed me to get started. Judge Davidian introduced me to some of his colleagues on the way up to Floor Three. As we entered courtroom 301, I was informed that I was to be watching the First Appearances. A “First Appearance” is when someone charged of a crime, usually a misdemeanor or felony, makes their first appearance in court. Often, the people on trial have bailed themselves out of jail. They’re free to go home and do normal things, as long as he or she returns on their court date. If they don’t show up, they can be held in contempt (and that’s when the serious charges start coming). The few that don’t produce bail money are brought in from the jail, which is conveniently next door. A special elevator brings prisoners up and safely stores them in a holding cell until their hearing. Upon entering the courtroom, I noted that there were about 50 people in the room, excluding the judge, clerk, and attorneys. The room is quite loud, and there are lots of things happening at once. Judge Davidian told me that coming off a holiday weekend, the court is expected to be busy. I assume that’s because people tend to make rash decisions over the extended weekend. And indeed, as I predicted, most of the cases with their First Appearance scheduled today were drug charges. From Possession of Drug Paraphernalia (PDP), which could yield up to 120 days in prison, to Manufacture of Methamphetamine, which could yield up to 282 months in prison, I saw it all. First Appearances are usually to arrange an official court date to actually decide whether or not the person is guilty and to assign a Public Defender if needed. Therefore, much of the action was simply administrative and did not engender a conviction.
After lunch, Judge Davidian told me why he had dropped me off in 301 with another Judge instead of bringing me to courtroom 2A. “Room 2A”, he told me, “needs to come with a trigger warning”. 2A was, in fact, family court, and he was stuck there for a week because someone else took a vacation. Judge Davidian told me that he used to be a litigator for family court before he became a judge. “Why did you stop litigating?” I asked him. “Oh, you’ll see.” He said. “You’ll see”. And see I did. I discovered that family court was not only super dramatic, but also something that I could cross off my list of careers in confidence. Instead of the hustle and bustle of criminal proceedings, the case in family court was slow and tenuous. The classic opening statements were provided, then witnesses were called, directed, cross-examined, and then occasionally re-directed. This specific case entailed a debate over case jurisdiction and custody. The case focused on two women in a same-sex relationship that had chosen to adopt a child in a different state a few years back. However, because same-sex marriage was illegal at the time in that state, only one member of the relationship applied for adoption and had their name on the adoption papers. The jurisdiction debate was over whether or not the other member of the relationship had proved to be more than just a “close family friend” to the child, and instead have parental status. Without this status, they cannot argue for custody, which was the problem at hand. This case involved lots of statute checking and Judge Davidian spend a while in his chamber writing a decision. In the end, he encouraged both parties to remember that there was a child in this situation and not just a name being thrown around. His advice to the plaintiff and defendant really struck me as genuinely caring, and showed how human compassion could be injected into a court of law. 