A Quick Look Into Public Defense

This summer, I’m interning at the Baltimore Public Defender’s Office Juvenile Division. My first day was only two weeks ago, but there’s already so much to say. Here’s the good, the overwhelming, and the contemplating.

My experience at the public defender’s office so far has been extremely fulfilling and has exceeded my expectations thoroughly. I thought I’d list out a few fond memories:

1. Personally investigating a case last week was so thrilling because I feel like my work directly contributed to someone’s well-being. I scrubbed through cell phone data and uncovered clues that helped direct a future line of investigation

2. Rushing down the street from courtroom to courtroom trying to catch the next case has awarded me a glimpse of what I completely see myself doing when I’m older and I actively try to savor the feeling

3. Meeting with the lead attorneys is always such a rewarding experience because I have the utmost admiration for the work they do and love hearing about the struggles they faced with certain cases and how they worked around them

4. I have tons of fun wandering around the office and chatting with anyone who’s available at the risk of learning something really intriguing. Last week I spent half an hour learning about probabilistic analysis on crime scene DNA testing just because I caught one of the forensic experts on a coffee break

5. My experience as an intern is truly whatever I make it, so I’ve had to learn how to take ownership of my time and actively request take tasks on, ask which court proceedings I can observe, and inquire about cases in whatever depth I desire. This is an exceptionally valuable skill

Although I pride myself on the ability to separate my emotions from work, it’s been admittedly difficult to stomach the workings of court thus far. Regardless of the brutality of the crime I know has been committed, nothing could have prepared me for watching a teenager be told they were going to spend the rest of their life in prison by a stranger. Nothing prepared me for the tears in that teenager’s eyes or the whimpers from their mother. While I hope sitting in on these trials becomes easier to digest over time, I also hope I don’t become desensitized to what’s unfolding before me. It’s the rawest reminder of humanity I’ve encountered.

When I was first interviewed for the position, I was asked the famous question: “Would you be able to defend a guilty person?” While my enthusiasm was clear, I had half-formed thoughts on this question. But having logged two weeks on the job, my answer now feels more articulate:

1. Legal defense is an equity issue, which is why I would have no trouble defending a guilty person at the public defender’s office in particular. While a wealthy person can afford a private attorney with the backing of a prestigious and well-reputed firm, a person with fewer resources is assigned a public defense attorney from the state. Through my short time on the job, I’ve already learned that despite the way courts are intended to function, the winner of justice is often the better, more powerful storyteller. This isn’t necessarily to say that the court system is broken - this just changes the way we should approach the game of legal defense. So if a wealthy person guilty of a crime has the benefit of a decent opportunity for acquittal, I’m more than happy to work to ensure a less wealthy person receives the same benefit.

2. A right to a fair trial is a vital part of the Constitution. Yet having scanned through camera recordings of police (particularly in Baltimore) planting evidence, coercing confessions, intimidating witnesses, and burying critical information, it’s clear that legal defense is at a loss. And since police misconduct seems suspiciously prevalent in low-income cities, the burden falls on public defense to tip the scales in favor of a truly fair trial. Under this premise, defending a guilty client every so often is a small moral price to pay to help balance a prejudicial system.

3. Working in the juvenile division, I’m working to defend kids. These kids more often than not have undiagnosed psychological disorders and are in no sense “independent” or “free-willed” under the mercy of their parents’ resources. Subjecting a kid to prison and staining their permanent record fuels that cycle of violence and in my opinion, isn’t always a correct approach to justice. A strong legal defense creates room for true rehabilitation and crime reduction, which is particularly deserved by those who find themselves in need of a public defender in the first place.