Monday,
December 01, 2014
Guest MINDSETTER™ Anne Grant
One mother’s riveting, sometimes rambling, testimony at the
Judicial Nominating Commission (JNC) on May 4, 2011,
may have led to the commission’s recent proposal to change its rules. (Katie
Mulvaney, “R.I. judicial nominating panel proposes allowing public to comment
on nominees,” Providence Journal, November 3, 2014.)
She
asked commissioners’ patience with her “two invisible
disabilities,” post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and autism spectrum
disorder (ASD), which, she said, “make it easy for others to deceive and
humiliate me.” Her testimony prompted me to research her three-year-old custody
case and to attend her next hearings.
Rhode
Island’s Family Court is a civil court with a criminal demeanor. After I had
become executive director of the Women’s Center of Rhode Island in 1988, I
found that battered mothers who had succeeded in getting their children away from violent homes into our shelter were
often treated as criminals in Family Court.
Having
escaped one form of assault, they were stunned by the legal attacks and
bullying in the courtroom, where they were typically called “defendants” instead of “respondents” -- the civil court term preferred in
other states. Few mothers had money to hire attorneys. Since this was not a
criminal court, they had no access to public defenders. Legal Services seldom
had enough staff for such interminable cases waged by
terrifying opponents.
The
mother at the JNC’s public hearing (I’ll call her “Tracy”) testified against an
attorney who sought nomination to Family Court. He had been the court-ordered
guardian ad litem representing the child’s “best interests”. She told the commission he had laughed at her, refused to
interview her witnesses, failed to complete his reports on time, threatened to
bankrupt her, and colluded with the other side.
Trained
as an engineer, Tracy had served with top-secret clearance as an officer in the Air Force, where the military regimen
provided a structure that worked well for her high-functioning autism. I asked
if she could apply her engineering skills to what was happening procedurally in
her case, and she designed a tool that she called a
“7/30 chart.”
Data-driven
and beautiful in its simplicity, this might be the tool needed to evaluate
lawyers and judges by their own docket sheets instead of grandiloquent speeches
and letters from influential friends.
Here’s
how it works: When a judge makes a verbal order at a
hearing, the winning attorney must render the judge’s words in writing and send
that draft to the opposing attorney within seven days to establish their
agreement on the substance of the order. This written order must be signed by the judge and entered into the record by the clerk
within 30 days of the hearing.
Applying these administrative rules as her
algorithm, Tracy set up a track on which a properly administered case should
run. Every hearing should result in one order. All orders should be entered
within the limits set at 7 days and 30 days from the hearing.
An ideal 7/30 track might
look like this:
Tracy’s
7/30 chart of her own case opens with a string of four emergency ex parte
orders against her, four continuances, and numerous
orders entered “out of time.” Court orders land far off track, and some never
get entered at all. The case had been running off track for nine months before
Tracy even saw a judge.
While these administrative abuses do not begin to reveal the substantive abuse, they show a system gone awry. In Tracy’s case, the opposing attorneys repeatedly violated court rules. Their legal tactics played havoc with Tracy’s autism and PTSD, triggering symptoms that worked against her in court.
While these administrative abuses do not begin to reveal the substantive abuse, they show a system gone awry. In Tracy’s case, the opposing attorneys repeatedly violated court rules. Their legal tactics played havoc with Tracy’s autism and PTSD, triggering symptoms that worked against her in court.
At
the JNC hearing in 2011, the guardian ad litem who
had a major hand in Tracy’s case heard from other angry parents, and
commissioners declined to nominate him.
But in February 2014, he appeared once more at
the JNC, again seeking nomination as a Family Court judge. One commissioner
publicly apologized that the attorney had no opportunity to respond to his
critics three years earlier, and they nominated him without ever investigating
those complaints.
Now
the commission is considering a good rule change to hear
public comments first and investigate any complaints before they interview
applicants. Another positive change would be to secure the most recent decade
of docket sheets from each applicant’s cases and run them through Tracy’s 7/30
algorithm.
A
single docket will not reveal which lawyer or judge
created problems. But it will show how to investigate case files and focus
better interview questions about troubling patterns in these cases.
If clerks posted a 7/30 chart inside each file, a trial
judge could call lawyers to the bench to ask why a
case has gone off track. When judges seek nomination to higher courts, their
own 7/30 charts would show the JNC how well they manage cases.
Litigants can use 7/30 charts as an objective
standard to complain to the Disciplinary Counsel or the Judicial Tenure and
Discipline Commission.
Moreover,
the JNC could invite the public to submit 7/30 charts on all applicants before
selecting those candidates to be interviewed. The present system raises
suspicion that good candidates have been excluded
without public knowledge because some commissioners may be too entrenched in a
highly political system.
Anne Grant (ParentingProject@verizon.net) has researched and written
about Family Court cases for more than twenty years.