Fighting a Rigged System
Struggle Against Judges, Public “Pretenders,” and Probation Officers
Story by G. Melesaine

"Its hard to beat the system, when you're standing at a distance," lyrics from John Mayer are circulating in my head as I sit in an 8x4 cell waiting for court while incarcerated. The cell is cream white, with an open toilet and two benches that are aligned against the length of the wall. The only color that remains in this cell is the orange and green jail clothes that covers the different shades of skin that my other cell mates wear. Just to be in this holding cell is a blessing while incarcerated. Other women back at the County Correctional Facility have been waiting months just for news of a court date. About 40 minutes later, daily gossip is silenced by the fidgeting sounds of the cell's door. A tall white man with a moustache appears and steps in halfway with papers in hand. I think about the saying I've always heard, "the jury never trust lawyers with moustaches.”   He introduces himself as the Public Defender for three of the women in the cell, one including me. Quickly, he proceeds to call out each name on the papers, my name arrives last. "Okay, the District Attorney is giving you either 10 months with the option of work program or seven months straight County." He assures me that I can't get a better deal, so I better choose the given options. The two other women he talked to received a similar one minute conversation. Only five minutes have passed and he has spoken to all three of his defendants quickly, in a hurry only to shut the door leaving us with a confirmation that we will be away for months. The other two women are looking at prison time.

One of the women explains to us that you can't trust Santa Clara County Public Defenders (she refers to them as Public Pretenders) and says, “so don't accept any offers.” The door opens once again, and we are lead to the courtroom. He calls the two other womens' cases before me and they are quickly given their prison sentence within a matter of seconds, without saying a word, just standing there for those minor seconds as a stranger determines how they will spend their life for the next year. The attorney approaches me and says, "So what are you going to do?” I answer him, "I want to talk to the judge." With a frustrated look he says, "I don't think that's a good idea, trust me, that's the best deal you can get." A correctional officer escorts the other two women back to the holding cell and I am the only incarcerated defendant left in the courtroom. Almost half an hour passes and a correctional officer asks me why am I still in the courtroom. "They haven't called my case yet," I explain. "You're public defender is supposed to call your case," he says. A man who is not incarcerated becomes the twelfth case called before me and I watch as I wait.

Someone in the Santa Clara County mistakenly lost his file when he was in and out of California institutions   and on probation, so he spent less time in those institutions then he was supposed to. The judge explains to him that he should do more time, but the thing is this man seemed to already have his life together.   His wife and child are with him in court and he explains that he has a steady job that is taking good care of his family. The judge orders him to be remanded, but the man continues to argue with him, slightly screaming that because someone in the County wasn't doing their job he has to pay for it. He asks the judge if he could have at least one day to explain to his boss, but the outburst he'd said about the County only leaves the judge to say, "Have you ever heard the saying the fish that keeps his mouth open dies by the hook?" then remands him. My Public Defender hands papers and car keys to his wife, who holds her infant as she cries. The Public Defender has already approached   me   three times in between cases,   asking me the same question, "What do you want to do?" And I've answered the same, "I want to talk to the judge.” I wasn't going to let this attorney represent my case when he only read the details for the first time in court today. My case is finally called and the judge asks me to approach the bench. The District Attorney   also approaches and I explain my case in the most articulate way I could, with the D.A. arguing that all my claims were lies. The judge offers me four months with the option of program, months less then the best deal my public defender said I could get. Without hesitating I take the offer.

Almost four months have passed and I'm officially released. Being released from a County institution is not all that it seems, you're not as free as you think because now you become chained to financial and personal obligations.   Depending on how high your charges have been waged, Santa Clara County will slap you as hard as they can until you have nothing, even while you're   not in their institution. At the time I picked up these charges I was residing in San Francisco,   so my charges moved up a level since I wasn't living in the County. Once you get your official sentence, they give you a couple of years on probation and order you to pay the County in fines, which for me was more money than my family could ever afford.  

The County opens five accounts for me which should be paid within the deadline dates,in total I owe about $5,000 that is due before the end of next month and upon my release date I have about $48 covered   with the only current income being legal side hustles. I make an appointment with my Probation Officer who is located in Palo Alto and he sends me back to San Jose to get a new P.O. because I now live in the County. My new P.O. is pretty lenient and understands the problem with my financial situation, so he lets my $3,000 account go at monthly payments of about $200 a month. After about three months, four accounts are paid off and my job situation is slightly lightened with a part-time job with a community organization.   But I need full time employment to pay off the County. My criminal background has become a major obstacle for me to deal with, because reports of my background are mailed to my address with a denied employment letter. It is clear that I have a small possibility   of employment.  

The only advice I have for people getting   caught up in this system is, be careful who you trust with your life. When someone who works for the system makes you think that they will fight the system for you, a stranger that they've just met for the first 5 minutes, be cautious.   Our challenge is to learn how to hustle the system, before we go in, during, and after. They try to hustle us, so we have to be smarter.