Sweet Home Alabama

Ok...well, not quite. After spending 10 weeks in the Deep South, I’m not quite ready to call Alabama home. Home to me is where I am now, back in New York City. It’s also my family home in Maryland, where I grew up. Though my summer internship at the Equal Justice Initiative and my experience living in Montgomery have made a lasting impression on me, I leave Alabama knowing that I came as an outsider and I left as an outsider, albeit one who has at least gained an appreciation for the way of life down south.

As I have hopefully conveyed on these pages, Alabama’s criminal justice system is characterized by systematic flaws that result in racial and socio-economic prejudice, in trials that are ripe with ineffective defense attorneys, and in excessive punishments, including but not limited to the death penalty and to life without parole, being pursued by overzealous prosecutors. Though I can only rely upon my limited experience to answer this question, I have repeatedly wondered this summer whether alternatives to Alabama exist that offer better criminal justice systems. Clearly, states that have public defender offices are in a better position than Alabama because they have the means to provide indigent defendants with more effective counsel. States that have abolished the death penalty are also a step ahead because they have recognized that the death penalty does not achieve deterrence, nor can it ever be imposed in a fair and equitable manner.

An ideal criminal justice system would involve prosecutors who present their cases before juries and then ask them to impose a punishment that is fair; i.e., a punishment that deters crime and provides retribution for the victims and for society, while recognizing that individual defendants cannot be defined solely by their criminal acts, but by the circumstances that led the defendants to commit them. As I mentioned earlier, an ideal system in my mind would also greatly resemble a child welfare program that assigns individual caseworkers to inmates to determine when and if they are ready to be released. For many reasons, no state has ever supported such a criminal justice system. The cost of hiring and training caseworkers and then administering non-uniform prison sentences would be astronomical. Furthermore, litigation in our country is adversarial in nature, so prosecutors and defense attorneys alike have little incentive to strive for a happy middle ground, but instead advocate for their position to the extreme and then let the judge and jury settle the matter at hand. As employees of the state, prosecutors (and often judges) are also subject to the whims of politics, and go to excesses to portray themselves as tough on crime instead of advocates for justice.

Along these lines, another question I ask myself is whether I could ever see myself being a prosecutor. A common refrain in the public defense world is that once you have worked as a prosecutor, you can never go back to representing indigent defendants because you have crossed a line from which you cannot return. I found such a hard-line stance difficult to swallow at the beginning of the summer; now, I understand this perspective. Even the best-intentioned prosecutors are restricted by sentencing requirements, by their superiors’ political ambitions, and by their own career aspirations. I would also imagine that many prosecutors lose sight of attaining justice and become cynical after being exposed to an endless series of criminals and criminal acts. From my vantage point as a young law student, I would like to believe that I can defy these odds and prosecute criminals in the name of justice and equality, but I don’t yet know whether such a conviction is realistic in today’s world.

Aside from the intellectual challenges that I pondered over the summer, I truly enjoyed living in the south. Looking over my tongue-in-cheek list of goals that I created for myself at the outset, I’m happy to say that I can check off pretty much all of them. I went to a Southern Baptist Church and loved it; I traveled throughout the southern states to get a flavor for the south’s civil rights history; I entertained myself with Rick & Bubba in the morning to appreciate the values and cultural norms of red-state America; I enjoyed being on the receiving end of southern hospitality; and, yes, I even learned to appreciate some country music and took slide guitar lessons (which were only moderately successful I might add).

As for my blog – I’ve really enjoyed being able to reflect on my experiences and to share them with all the readers who have chosen to click on my website or receive my emails. And of course, I appreciate all the feedback I’ve received both online and offline. Thank you. With classes starting all too soon and with my life returning back to the normal and somewhat less-interesting life of just another second-year law student in New York, I can’t promise that I’ll be able to continue to post regularly but I do hope to be able to add the occasional posting or thought online, and always welcome your comments.

Until then, it’s been a pleasure y’all.

Final grits count: 8 regular grits, 4 cheese grits