On its face, today was simple: Clean the house, say goodbye to the AppalReD folks and drive to Virginia.
But as we piled into the cars and made our way back to UVa, going home was a bittersweet affair. From what we'd seen, what we'd worked on and who we'd met, I don't think any of us will be returning to the same place that we left one week ago. Most directly, our perspective of the practice of law is different now. Read Ben's post below ("Thursday Thoughts") for an illuminating example of how this will be affected.
The drive itself was practically a non-event. I'm so tired of car games that even when I thought of a sweet Dealbreaker question (if you have to ask, then you don't know), I didn't bring it up. All I remember was waking up in the back seat with drool on my arm, grabbing a week-old Thin Mint off the floor, and falling back asleep.
Once we got back to C-ville, the conclusion was mildly anti-climactic, since half of the first vehicle had already gone home to their own homes, with their own working toilets. Still, those of us left hugged, held back the tears and hurled insults at each other to numb the pain. Then... we went home. And that was the end.
I need to post some personal thank-yous: to John Rosenburg, for proving that it is possible to make a huge difference with a bit of gumption; to Branford Brown for his sweet hat, his patience at the wheel and for all the time he gave up to shepherd us around; to Kristie at the AppalReD office, who deserves a law degree for her knowledge of the system and a professorial position for teaching us students so much about how it works. Finally, huge props to Veronika Bath for leading the trip, to the PILA crowd for organizing it, and to the whole gang of ASB KY for making it an awesome, if somewhat bizarre, week in Eastern Kentucky.
[The sweet peeps of ASB KY '09 were, are, and forever will be: Veronika Bath, Dave Smith, Ben Cooper, Matt Reardon, Bob Falconi, Jessica Vormwald, Karla Soloria, John White, and the Susans: Susan (I) Kruth, Susan (II) Beall, and Susan (III) Edwards.]
Friday, March 6, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Day Five: Vinyl Justice
Today's blog will be told anti-chronologically, as it has been a whirling dervish day. Currently, Matt Damon is before me and my teammates, in the movie "The Rainmaker," nobly fighting for justice against a sea of opposition. This idea will be a mini-motif of our day's adventures.
What seems like just moments ago, we left the Big Sandy Science Center where the curator had given us a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He let us in after-hours to see a private viewing of a laser-light show set to 80's rock and roll, called Vinyl Laser. Colored lasers, 1,200 watt speakers and copious amounts of fog created a hair band rock hall effect, with intricate dancing shapes demonstrating the abstractions of rock and roll across the planetarium dome. The experience was mind-melting. When various hits by Queen, Kansas, and Boston had finished their splay on the giant screen, the curator told us that the whole show was performed by a single laser beam revolving at 30,000 times per second. This was described by Susan II in this succinct and accurate way: "It was cool."
Preceding a foodfest supper at Billy Ray's, a restaurant located across the street from our shelter, two members of AppalReD took us on a tour of the local community. They once again generously took several hours out of their day to help us understand both the scope of their practice and the challenges faced by their clients. We saw areas affected by strip mining and mountain top removal (and some of the areas that had been painstakingly reclaimed by local effort) and the abject poverty butting up against homes of the wealthy. It was an eye-opening experience, like most of our trips into the community have been.
Continuing our day-in-reverse, we had left for the Kentucky tour from the aforementioned Science Museum and Planetarium, which the founder of AppalRed, John Rosenburg, had helped to found. The featured exhibit was a Sherlock Holmes murder mystery that involved several intricate scenes, and all of us aspiring lawyers felt like we had to be the first to put the puzzle pieces together and solve the heinous crime. It out-witted many of us. Luckily, we're not in forensics or police investigation. I offered to represent the killer at court, but he couldn't afford my retainer.
The last legal work that we performed for the folks of AppalReD was assembling an instruction sheet for pro se divorce petitioners, and we spent the mid-morning correcting the verbiage of our form, knowing that this document was acting in our stead as interpreters of the law, instructing the client on what had to be done in what format. While there may have been too many cooks in the legal kitchen, I think we eventually produced an effective guide for future clients to escape abusive marriages when AppalReD cannot represent them directly.
Finally, kicking off our day was a talk given to us by the director of Volunteer Lawyers for Appalachian Kentucky (an AppalReD program), Will Synder, who passionately defended the practice of pro bono lawyering, asking us to be advocates for those clients who cannot afford to pay. Just like Matt Damon, that's why I came to law school in the first place- to fight for justice against a sea of opposition. And maybe take in a crazy laser light show set to Bohemian Rhapsody in the process.
What seems like just moments ago, we left the Big Sandy Science Center where the curator had given us a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He let us in after-hours to see a private viewing of a laser-light show set to 80's rock and roll, called Vinyl Laser. Colored lasers, 1,200 watt speakers and copious amounts of fog created a hair band rock hall effect, with intricate dancing shapes demonstrating the abstractions of rock and roll across the planetarium dome. The experience was mind-melting. When various hits by Queen, Kansas, and Boston had finished their splay on the giant screen, the curator told us that the whole show was performed by a single laser beam revolving at 30,000 times per second. This was described by Susan II in this succinct and accurate way: "It was cool."
Preceding a foodfest supper at Billy Ray's, a restaurant located across the street from our shelter, two members of AppalReD took us on a tour of the local community. They once again generously took several hours out of their day to help us understand both the scope of their practice and the challenges faced by their clients. We saw areas affected by strip mining and mountain top removal (and some of the areas that had been painstakingly reclaimed by local effort) and the abject poverty butting up against homes of the wealthy. It was an eye-opening experience, like most of our trips into the community have been.
Continuing our day-in-reverse, we had left for the Kentucky tour from the aforementioned Science Museum and Planetarium, which the founder of AppalRed, John Rosenburg, had helped to found. The featured exhibit was a Sherlock Holmes murder mystery that involved several intricate scenes, and all of us aspiring lawyers felt like we had to be the first to put the puzzle pieces together and solve the heinous crime. It out-witted many of us. Luckily, we're not in forensics or police investigation. I offered to represent the killer at court, but he couldn't afford my retainer.
The last legal work that we performed for the folks of AppalReD was assembling an instruction sheet for pro se divorce petitioners, and we spent the mid-morning correcting the verbiage of our form, knowing that this document was acting in our stead as interpreters of the law, instructing the client on what had to be done in what format. While there may have been too many cooks in the legal kitchen, I think we eventually produced an effective guide for future clients to escape abusive marriages when AppalReD cannot represent them directly.
Finally, kicking off our day was a talk given to us by the director of Volunteer Lawyers for Appalachian Kentucky (an AppalReD program), Will Synder, who passionately defended the practice of pro bono lawyering, asking us to be advocates for those clients who cannot afford to pay. Just like Matt Damon, that's why I came to law school in the first place- to fight for justice against a sea of opposition. And maybe take in a crazy laser light show set to Bohemian Rhapsody in the process.
Thursday thoughts
In school, we learn about the law. We learn about the law on this trip, too, but it's different.
Even though it's not explicit, I think the law taught to us in school presumes a certain setting -- one that doesn't align with the setting of rural Eastern Kentucky. I suppose it's the nature of reading appellate cases. We focus mostly on broader questions within the law, policy-making decisions, decisions that track certain themes and principles throughout case law. The law, as it's presented to us in the classroom, is certainly interesting, but it's not personal.
Over the past 7 months, I haven't thought a great deal about how various decisions affect the lives of individuals. Again, maybe it's the nature of the level of cases we read. The higher the case, the more concerned courts are with a broad notion of justice; they move away from a purely individual focus -- what's right in this case -- and look at future effects -- what's better for society as a whole.
I think this trip, though, has hinted at the deeply personal aspects of the law, and what the law can mean to people. Especially poor people.
The law in Prestonsburg is different, I think, from a couple of angles. First, it can be applied differently from what's on the books or in the cases. Actually, maybe this isn't unique to poor areas. It's probably the difference between the law we learn about in school and the way law is practiced in the real world. Still, hearing about a judge not allowing a person to represent himself is shocking. Less surprising, but still not completely settling, was hearing Judge Harris say he makes a number of family law decisions based on how he feels about the people once they are standing in front of him in his courtroom.
I don't mean to say that Judge Harris' system is bad. It's just interesting that the law we learn about in school emphasis a rigorous intellectual analysis, one that seems like it doesn't always suit everyday life. He applies the law in a very personal way. On the other hand, such a process can let in a number of biases.
Second, I think the law is experienced differently by the folks living here. Their interactions with the law, their encounters with the judicial system, are just plain different than those of people who have money. That's harder for me to understand. Legal aid and the other free / low-fee legal organizations can't provide services to everybody. Because they are basically the safety net of the legal system, people who don't get help don't get much else. Money makes such a difference. Furthermore, as Will Synder pointed out, the other problems of poverty -- an unsteady address, telephone number, and so forth -- can make for a quick default judgment.
It's good to get this perspective. I hope I can pursue it more, and keep it in mind throughout the next 2 years.
Even though it's not explicit, I think the law taught to us in school presumes a certain setting -- one that doesn't align with the setting of rural Eastern Kentucky. I suppose it's the nature of reading appellate cases. We focus mostly on broader questions within the law, policy-making decisions, decisions that track certain themes and principles throughout case law. The law, as it's presented to us in the classroom, is certainly interesting, but it's not personal.
Over the past 7 months, I haven't thought a great deal about how various decisions affect the lives of individuals. Again, maybe it's the nature of the level of cases we read. The higher the case, the more concerned courts are with a broad notion of justice; they move away from a purely individual focus -- what's right in this case -- and look at future effects -- what's better for society as a whole.
I think this trip, though, has hinted at the deeply personal aspects of the law, and what the law can mean to people. Especially poor people.
The law in Prestonsburg is different, I think, from a couple of angles. First, it can be applied differently from what's on the books or in the cases. Actually, maybe this isn't unique to poor areas. It's probably the difference between the law we learn about in school and the way law is practiced in the real world. Still, hearing about a judge not allowing a person to represent himself is shocking. Less surprising, but still not completely settling, was hearing Judge Harris say he makes a number of family law decisions based on how he feels about the people once they are standing in front of him in his courtroom.
I don't mean to say that Judge Harris' system is bad. It's just interesting that the law we learn about in school emphasis a rigorous intellectual analysis, one that seems like it doesn't always suit everyday life. He applies the law in a very personal way. On the other hand, such a process can let in a number of biases.
Second, I think the law is experienced differently by the folks living here. Their interactions with the law, their encounters with the judicial system, are just plain different than those of people who have money. That's harder for me to understand. Legal aid and the other free / low-fee legal organizations can't provide services to everybody. Because they are basically the safety net of the legal system, people who don't get help don't get much else. Money makes such a difference. Furthermore, as Will Synder pointed out, the other problems of poverty -- an unsteady address, telephone number, and so forth -- can make for a quick default judgment.
It's good to get this perspective. I hope I can pursue it more, and keep it in mind throughout the next 2 years.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Day Four: Thank you. SO much.
"I'm going to be old myself some day." ~Lilian Carter.
Today we explored other dynamics within the Appalred universe. The first move was to get the early bird special at the senior center, where we met with eight clients from the local community who wanted living wills or wanted to appoint someone with the power of attorney. Well, some wanted these legal instruments- some just wanted to talk. One fell in love with Susan. After we got the requisite information from the folks who wanted our representation, we had to head back (leaving broken hearts behind) to fit in a short movie on the Appalred mission before we left town for the afternoon. The video is available online for the curious: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vdn2Ml4jCck
"The meek shall inherit the Earth, but not its mineral rights." ~J. Paul Getty.
One of our last road trips out of Prestonsburg took us to neighboring Whitesburg, where an organization continues the original mission of Appalred, focused on coal issues, including Black Lung Disease, pension claims against the coal companies and environmental issues caused by mountaintop removal. The office is called Appalachian Citizen's Law Center, and it's run by Mary Cromer, Steve Sanders and Wes Addington (Wes was away at the time). As a guy who hugs trees and eats organic arugula, I was particularly interested in the headway against the coal industry and its detrimental effects on the environment and individuals' health. Apparently there isn't much to report, but we must fight on. http://mountainjusticesummer.org/
"The only thing better than free food is free Mexican food." ~John White
We concluded the day with a dinner at a local Mexican place, provided by local magnificent lawyer Ned Pillersdorf, and we were joined by a group from Vanderbilt who were also on an Alternative Spring Break in eastern Kentucky. It was muy sabrosa.
In conclusion, we have exhausted all the car games we can think of, which is not such a bad thing because I don't think I want to learn any more about the idiosyncrasic romantic habits of my car-mates, and at the homestead, the strain of having to share a single bathroom between eleven people of mixed gender is only just starting to show. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-AST1fqB0p8&feature=PlayList&p=7E65605D3DBF1C80&playnext=1&index=7)
Tomorrow is our last full day in Kentucky, and while it seems to be jam-packed with activities, I'm starting to get those hints of nostalgia that makes me mist up at the reiteration of inside jokes and stare at my co-participants for awkward amounts of time and sigh audibly. Or maybe I'm in love, like an old guy at the senior center. If these guys walk out of my life, it might break my heart.
Today we explored other dynamics within the Appalred universe. The first move was to get the early bird special at the senior center, where we met with eight clients from the local community who wanted living wills or wanted to appoint someone with the power of attorney. Well, some wanted these legal instruments- some just wanted to talk. One fell in love with Susan. After we got the requisite information from the folks who wanted our representation, we had to head back (leaving broken hearts behind) to fit in a short movie on the Appalred mission before we left town for the afternoon. The video is available online for the curious: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vdn2Ml4jCck
"The meek shall inherit the Earth, but not its mineral rights." ~J. Paul Getty.
One of our last road trips out of Prestonsburg took us to neighboring Whitesburg, where an organization continues the original mission of Appalred, focused on coal issues, including Black Lung Disease, pension claims against the coal companies and environmental issues caused by mountaintop removal. The office is called Appalachian Citizen's Law Center, and it's run by Mary Cromer, Steve Sanders and Wes Addington (Wes was away at the time). As a guy who hugs trees and eats organic arugula, I was particularly interested in the headway against the coal industry and its detrimental effects on the environment and individuals' health. Apparently there isn't much to report, but we must fight on. http://mountainjusticesummer.org/
"The only thing better than free food is free Mexican food." ~John White
We concluded the day with a dinner at a local Mexican place, provided by local magnificent lawyer Ned Pillersdorf, and we were joined by a group from Vanderbilt who were also on an Alternative Spring Break in eastern Kentucky. It was muy sabrosa.
In conclusion, we have exhausted all the car games we can think of, which is not such a bad thing because I don't think I want to learn any more about the idiosyncrasic romantic habits of my car-mates, and at the homestead, the strain of having to share a single bathroom between eleven people of mixed gender is only just starting to show. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-AST1fqB0p8&feature=PlayList&p=7E65605D3DBF1C80&playnext=1&index=7)
Tomorrow is our last full day in Kentucky, and while it seems to be jam-packed with activities, I'm starting to get those hints of nostalgia that makes me mist up at the reiteration of inside jokes and stare at my co-participants for awkward amounts of time and sigh audibly. Or maybe I'm in love, like an old guy at the senior center. If these guys walk out of my life, it might break my heart.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Day Three: Where is machismo?
While the third day of practice is usually the toughest, ASB KY showed why they were voted Dean Mahoney's favorite late-night entertainers with flexibility and steady competence.
Shortly after the sun broke through the clouds of morning stew, we got our court clothes on, meandered over to the shrine of justice and witnessed family disputes being adjudicated. A surprise Honor was the opportunity to talk to Judge Harris, who told us about the pressures of being a family law judge with the largest caseload in the Commonwealth. I'm glad he's there to take care of things, cause I don't think I would do it if they asked me. Although if Judge Harris is reading, he should shoot me an email. I need a job.
After seeing what justice looks like, we tried to replicate it ourselves in the Appalred Office where several of us did client intake for their family law practice. I, however, made copies. Apparently my lack of legal abilities preceded me, and, true to form, the copier spit ink-splattered paper at me and cut my assistant, Susan. I hope the copier has seen Office Space, because it shares a fate with the Initech printer if it doesn't shape up. (http://www.imdb.com/media/rm741644288/nm0619651).
As a reward for our administrative assitance, Susan and I got to sit in on a bankrupcy consultation, which will probably be the most important area of law for aspiring lawyers for the upcoming decade of Depression. Jay, the attorney on the case, handled it with aplomb.
The Appalred staff had a meeting shortly thereafter over the cases that they choose take on, accepting the ones that have the best chance to win and the most in line with the principles of Appalred, and sadly turning down those that are beyond their resources or outside their practice areas. They let us sit in on the meeting, which was sweetened by plates of delicious homemade fudge, provided by the Old Town Fudge Company. That fudge is the best perk I've seen or heard of since coming to law school, rivaling Skadden's $75k end-of-the-year bonuses.
In a rousing talk by the founder of Appalred, John Rosenburg, we learned the background of the organization, through its roots in litigation with the coal companies, the cases he argued in front of the United States Supreme Court and the development of affiliated organizations that have allowed the practice to expand to other areas of the law. As a Holocaust survivor and a dedicated community servant, he is the embodiment of what a committed citizen can accomplish.
At the end of the day, with legal work behind us, we turned to the non-legal stuff. Post stirfry dinner, Ben displayed his unparalleled ability to charade (in his performances of Armageddon, Rainbow Bright, and The Unbearable Lightness of Being), but there were heroic performances accomplished by several members of the troupe. See e.g., BOB FALCONI, "The Rotten Cucumber;" SUSAN KRUTH, "A Drunk Black Horse;" and VERONIKA BATH, "Madeline Albright;" SUSAN EDWARDS, "Guava juice." See generally, KARLA SOLORIA.
Shortly after the sun broke through the clouds of morning stew, we got our court clothes on, meandered over to the shrine of justice and witnessed family disputes being adjudicated. A surprise Honor was the opportunity to talk to Judge Harris, who told us about the pressures of being a family law judge with the largest caseload in the Commonwealth. I'm glad he's there to take care of things, cause I don't think I would do it if they asked me. Although if Judge Harris is reading, he should shoot me an email. I need a job.
After seeing what justice looks like, we tried to replicate it ourselves in the Appalred Office where several of us did client intake for their family law practice. I, however, made copies. Apparently my lack of legal abilities preceded me, and, true to form, the copier spit ink-splattered paper at me and cut my assistant, Susan. I hope the copier has seen Office Space, because it shares a fate with the Initech printer if it doesn't shape up. (http://www.imdb.com/media/rm741644288/nm0619651).
As a reward for our administrative assitance, Susan and I got to sit in on a bankrupcy consultation, which will probably be the most important area of law for aspiring lawyers for the upcoming decade of Depression. Jay, the attorney on the case, handled it with aplomb.
The Appalred staff had a meeting shortly thereafter over the cases that they choose take on, accepting the ones that have the best chance to win and the most in line with the principles of Appalred, and sadly turning down those that are beyond their resources or outside their practice areas. They let us sit in on the meeting, which was sweetened by plates of delicious homemade fudge, provided by the Old Town Fudge Company. That fudge is the best perk I've seen or heard of since coming to law school, rivaling Skadden's $75k end-of-the-year bonuses.
In a rousing talk by the founder of Appalred, John Rosenburg, we learned the background of the organization, through its roots in litigation with the coal companies, the cases he argued in front of the United States Supreme Court and the development of affiliated organizations that have allowed the practice to expand to other areas of the law. As a Holocaust survivor and a dedicated community servant, he is the embodiment of what a committed citizen can accomplish.
At the end of the day, with legal work behind us, we turned to the non-legal stuff. Post stirfry dinner, Ben displayed his unparalleled ability to charade (in his performances of Armageddon, Rainbow Bright, and The Unbearable Lightness of Being), but there were heroic performances accomplished by several members of the troupe. See e.g., BOB FALCONI, "The Rotten Cucumber;" SUSAN KRUTH, "A Drunk Black Horse;" and VERONIKA BATH, "Madeline Albright;" SUSAN EDWARDS, "Guava juice." See generally, KARLA SOLORIA.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Day Two: Dean Mahoney
Today was a day.
Among the many things I learned: Kentucky is a large State that requires copious amounts of gasoline to traverse, coal communities are close-knit and closed on Mondays, attorneys have facial hair and sweet hats, and personal assistants hold a tight grasp on intimate affairs.
Today was the day where we met the attorneys we would be working with and got to know the area we'd be working in. To gain a better awareness of the scope of the project, we were driven from Prestonburg (our current home) to the town of Harlon, KY, by Branford Brown, a hilarious and gracious attorney in the area who (thankfully) brought along a GPS to navigate the switchbacks of the Appalachians while his navigator dutifully fell asleep.
When we arrived in the workings of the Appalred satellite office in Harlon, we met with literary giant John Milton and John Grigsby, who gave us some interesting reality checks on the practice of law. Mr. Grigsby then took us on a tour of the local area to give us some background on the coal industry, and even though the Coal Museum was shuttered for the day, we did get to explore an important landmark in coal country: an elementary school that had been converted to a motel. "Mystifying" was how the experience was described by one overwhelmed participant. See it here. The proprietor told the history of the area, including the fact that Colonel Sanders himself had once stationed his troops in the very building that we were standing in! It was eery, exploring in the same place that a figure of such historical and culinary importance would have been resting his coal-dusted feet--it totally made the long drive totally worthwhile.
Several dozen car games later, we returned to our home base in Prestonburg, unplugged the porcelain palace, enjoyed a delicious meal cooked by our resident deanophile and closed the night with group-bonding, facilitiated by our social czar Susan. I think we all learned a lot.
Among the many things I learned: Kentucky is a large State that requires copious amounts of gasoline to traverse, coal communities are close-knit and closed on Mondays, attorneys have facial hair and sweet hats, and personal assistants hold a tight grasp on intimate affairs.
Today was the day where we met the attorneys we would be working with and got to know the area we'd be working in. To gain a better awareness of the scope of the project, we were driven from Prestonburg (our current home) to the town of Harlon, KY, by Branford Brown, a hilarious and gracious attorney in the area who (thankfully) brought along a GPS to navigate the switchbacks of the Appalachians while his navigator dutifully fell asleep.
When we arrived in the workings of the Appalred satellite office in Harlon, we met with literary giant John Milton and John Grigsby, who gave us some interesting reality checks on the practice of law. Mr. Grigsby then took us on a tour of the local area to give us some background on the coal industry, and even though the Coal Museum was shuttered for the day, we did get to explore an important landmark in coal country: an elementary school that had been converted to a motel. "Mystifying" was how the experience was described by one overwhelmed participant. See it here. The proprietor told the history of the area, including the fact that Colonel Sanders himself had once stationed his troops in the very building that we were standing in! It was eery, exploring in the same place that a figure of such historical and culinary importance would have been resting his coal-dusted feet--it totally made the long drive totally worthwhile.
Several dozen car games later, we returned to our home base in Prestonburg, unplugged the porcelain palace, enjoyed a delicious meal cooked by our resident deanophile and closed the night with group-bonding, facilitiated by our social czar Susan. I think we all learned a lot.
The Little Water Heater That Could Not
It was close.
Matt, having refused my attempts to conserve time and water, forced me into the last morning shower slot. The five who came before seemed to exit unscathed, so I was hopeful. Hope, however, has limits. As do water heaters. And ours had been pushed to its limit this morning.
The shower started off as normal. A quick rinse, a little Icy Blast soap, a moment of reflection. Then FREEZING. Like an Arctic expedition, but naked.
And I still needed to shampoo. Struggling through shrinkage, I was motivated with the speed of an Indy pit crew. Quickly I shut the water off. Who left the window open!? It snowed outside last night, and I could feel every frosty fleck of frozen numbness.
Next time, power shower.
Matt, having refused my attempts to conserve time and water, forced me into the last morning shower slot. The five who came before seemed to exit unscathed, so I was hopeful. Hope, however, has limits. As do water heaters. And ours had been pushed to its limit this morning.
The shower started off as normal. A quick rinse, a little Icy Blast soap, a moment of reflection. Then FREEZING. Like an Arctic expedition, but naked.
And I still needed to shampoo. Struggling through shrinkage, I was motivated with the speed of an Indy pit crew. Quickly I shut the water off. Who left the window open!? It snowed outside last night, and I could feel every frosty fleck of frozen numbness.
Next time, power shower.
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