". . . My partner and I were reassuring Sarah that everything would be O.K. But we were probably just as nervous as Sarah was. . . ."

     There we were, in a small negotiation room at the back of the courtroom. Our client, whom I will call Sarah, was frightened because she knew that, in an hour or so, she was going to have to take the stand, face her ex-boyfriend, and tell the judge about how this man that she had lived with had beaten her and chased her with a butcher knife. My partner and I were reassuring Sarah that everything would be OK. But we were probably just as nervous as Sarah was. We had been in the Domestic Violence Clinic for less than a month and we where about to try our first case. We had worked very hard to prepare our case. We had practiced our opening and closing statements. We had practiced the direct examination of Sarah. We had marked the documents and photographs that we were going to submit as evidence. We knew all of our evidence rules so that we could make objections. We had prepared our responses to probable objections from the other side. Our clinic supervisor had closely scrutinized all of this work and we knew that our case was ready for trial. Now we just had to do it all in front of a judge.

     Sarah had not lived in D.C. long. She had moved here with her husband only about a year before. Very soon afterward, she gave birth to a son and she and her husband were divorced. Sarah found herself in a strange city with a new baby, no money, no friends, and homeless. She and her baby had stayed in a homeless shelter for about a month.

"For two full days [the Respondent] terrorized Sarah in their apartment. . . . He beat her, choked her, and held a butcher knife to her throat."

     That's where Sarah met the Respondent in our case. He was homeless, too. He seemed like a nice guy. Though neither of them had much, they figured that if they put their money together, they could afford the security deposit on an apartment. They had only lived in that apartment a little over a month when he turned violent. For two full days he terrorized Sarah in their new apartment. He took the phone and locked it in a trunk so that Sarah couldn't call for help. He beat her, choked her, and held a butcher knife to her throat. Then he sat and sharpened the butcher knife in front of Sarah.

     When Sarah finally escaped from the apartment, she ran to a corner pay phone and called the police. The police came, arrested the Respondent and took him away in handcuffs. But apparently the police just drove around the corner and let him go. He returned to the apartment about 30 minutes later and came after Sarah with the butcher knife that he had spent so much time sharpening. An officer on foot patrol finally arrested the Respondent. The Respondent was charged with assaults on Sarah and her young son.

     We walked into the courtroom the day of the trial expecting to get the Respondent to consent to the Civil Protection Order (CPO) ordering the Respondent to vacate the apartment and stay away from Sarah. The evidence against him was strong. But there was one problem: the Respondent wanted the apartment for himself. Sarah had nowhere to go. She already had two jobs and was barely able to support herself and her son. There was no way that she could afford to pay another security deposit. We had to go to trial.

     The trial lasted two hours. Sarah was nervous on the stand, but the judge was patient and Melissa guided Sarah through the direct examination well. But then it was time for the man who had beaten and terrorized Sarah to cross- examine her (the Respondent did not have a lawyer so he cross examined Sarah himself). We had prepared Sarah for the cross-examination by instructing her not to look at the Respondent and to keep her eyes on us instead. She was to show no emotion and she was to wait two seconds after he asked each question before giving her response (the two seconds was to give us first-time litigators time to decide whether to object to the question). I was worried about whether Sarah would be able to do all of this on the stand. I knew that she was going to be overwhelmed with emotion during the cross-examination. But when it came time to face the music, Sarah was in complete control. I was astonished at her strength as I watched her calmly and deliberately answer each of his questions without ever taking her eyes off of us. It was at that point that I realized that no matter how much work it took to prepare a case like this for trial, it was the client who had the hard job.

     Then it was time for the Respondent to put on his case. The judge did the direct examination of the Respondent. I listened intently and scribbled notes to myself about questions that I should ask the Respondent on cross-examination. But the Respondent was a particularly bad liar. Even the judge was showing signs of disbelief when the Respondent said that the photograph we presented of Sarah's huge black eye was the result of her clumsily walking into a door. By the end of the Respondent's testimony he had sealed his fate when he admitted to chasing Sarah with a butcher knife. He seemed to think that since he never actually stabbed her, there was no assault.

     It meant that all of my preparation for cross- examination was for naught, but it was just as fun to stand up and say, "No questions, your Honor," when the judge gave me the floor to cross- examine the Respondent.

     I then made my closing argument to the judge. It was pretty easy to argue that the judge should grant a CPO since the Respondent admitted one offense and there was clear evidence of several others. The hard part of the argument was convincing the judge that Sarah should get the apartment. Under D.C. law, a judge can order a batterer to vacate any apartment that is jointly owned, leased, or rented by the batterer and the victim. Though Sarah and the Respondent had gotten the apartment together, the lease was in the Respondent's name only. Our argument was that because they got the apartment together and because our client had paid more than half of the rent, the apartment was jointly leased or, at the very least, jointly rented.

     The judge found that the apartment had been jointly leased for purposes of the statute because the lease stated that the apartment was to be occupied by two adults and one child. The Respondent was ordered to vacate the apartment and to stay away from Sarah.

"As the judge gave his ruling, Sarah squeezed my hand so tight that I thought it was going to break off . . . and I knew exactly how she felt."

     As the judge gave his ruling, Sarah squeezed my hand so tight that I thought it was going to break off . . . and I knew exactly how she felt. For me and my partner, it took all of our control not to high-five each other right there at the Petitioner's table. But somehow we managed to politely say, "Thank you, your Honor," and walk out of the Courtroom before we went nuts. I may never have intended to be a litigator when I started the Clinic, but in one day I had become hooked. And the fun was just beginning . . . .

"I feel like my entire legal education happened in that one semester."

     It's hard for me to sum up what the Georgetown Domestic Violence Clinic has done for me. It was an opportunity to be in a one-on-one, intense learning environment with experienced litigators. I feel like my entire legal education happened in that one semester. But more than that, the Clinic gave me my only real insight into what it is really like to be an attorney dealing with real clients who have real problems. Whether you want to help victims of domestic violence or escape the boredom of classes or just get the best legal education that you can imagine, the Georgetown Domestic Violence Clinic is a semester well spent.

 

Revised June 24, 2003 (ML)