All Rise

I’ve worked in the court system for more than 25 years. Whenever the judge comes into the courtroom, he or she is preceded by the court bailiff who says “All Rise.” And everyone stands up, and remains standing, until the judge tells them they may be seated. The same happens with a jury. When the jury comes into the courtroom from the jury room, the bailiff says “All Rise for the jury” and everyone stands up and remains standing until the jury is seated.

Both are a way of showing respect to those who are going to be making hard decisions.

While I’ve been a part of both of those experiences literally thousands of times over the years, I’ve never really thought much about either of the practices.

Until two weeks ago while sitting in a jury trial with particularly difficult facts.  It was a criminal trial, a companion case to one of my CPS cases, involving the death of an 8 week old who had starved to death. The testimony was heartbreaking, causing, on more than one occasion, tears both on the witness stand, in the gallery, and in the jury box. It made me think of the many ugly trials I have been a part of over the years, and how hard it must be for most jurors to sit and listen to things so far outside the scope of their everyday lives.

I thought about how hard it can be for those of us who do this work for a living to see and hear the things we do day after day after day. I wondered about the ability of many of us to compartmentalize the things we hear and see, as a defense mechanism, to allow us to live the rest of our lives without the constant effects of the PTSD that we ourselves sometimes develop as a reaction to all the secondary trauma we experience.

I thought about those times, like two weeks ago, when after listening to the trial of the starved 8 week old, I listened to the beginning of a sentencing hearing on another criminal case a companion case to one of my cases, with another child, this one older, who too had been starved to death. In the middle of watching these two trials, I observed one of the most emotional goodbye visits I’ve ever observed. And despite all the years I have done this work, and all the skills I have at compartmentalizing the trauma, the week was just too much. It was one of those weeks which occurs from time to time when there is just too much to compartmentalize effectively, and too much to be able to mentally and intellectually and emotionally process, and the only reaction a person can possibly have is to just shut down or fall apart. I did a bit of both, to be frank.

And so as I reflected on that week, and I reflected on the practice of standing as the judge or jury enters the courtroom, I began to wonder if maybe the significance of the “All Rise” isn’t just about the respect for the office of the judge or of the juror. Maybe it’s more than just an acknowledgement of their important role as decision maker. Maybe it’s a recognition of the fact that hard stuff is about to happen. Important stuff is about to happen. Stuff that most people know little or nothing about is about to be discussed and decided. And there is gravity to that. There is honor in that.

So for all my fellow prosecutors, investigators, law enforcement, support staff, attorneys, caseworkers, CASA advocates, court reporters, bailiffs, court clerks, and judges, I honor and respect the job that you do, in hearing and seeing hard things. Keep up the good work.

And the next time you hear and respond to the command of “All Rise” do so in deference to the judge or the jury. But do so as well in recognition of your own role in what can be an incredibly difficult job.