Things I have learned in the last few days: never, ever commit a capital crime, and even if you never do, don't be black or brown (or anything other than white), because, let's face it, you're fucked. I have mostly been inclined to go home, dig up the Human Rights Act and love it and snuggle it and call it George.
This past weekend was the first of two training weekends being run by
Amicus (an anti-death penalty group for which I do my currently precious little pro bono), and it was... well, kind of harrowing, actually. They did it over three days at Freshfields (and I was wryly amused to note that the letter I got instructed me to come in through the back door - i.e., in these hallowed halls, keep your scruffy pro bono arse well out of sight). I went down on Friday evening, and stayed all weekend, and it was worth it but I think I will probably need a long while to recover.
The keynote speakers were both people who had been wrongfully incarcerated, and taken off death row when later exonerated, and, my god, they were harrowing speakers. One of them, Sunny Jacobs, was the partner of Jesse Takfero - a man I had heard of previously as being the last person to be executed by electric chair in Florida, because they botched it and it took
thirteen and a half minutes for him to die. Jesus god, what do you say to that? And how do you sit there while someone tells you this? I mean, I've written before about why I approve of Amicus, but having that happen to you for something you didn't do - yeah.
Amicus itself doesn't actually claim to be an abolitionist organisation - being a charity, it can't - but its speakers have no qualms about expressing their views, and I think it's possible to see two threads underlying people's thinking: there are the people who disagree with the death penalty on philosophical principle, and those who disagree with it because with its associated lack of due process, it is leading to unlawful killing. I'm in the first group, I think, despite some well-meaning person asking me over the weekend, well, yeah, but what if it was your family? What if it was your mum/friend/partner was got brutally murdered?
Which I have to admit is quite insulting in many ways - because, you know, when I go around telling people that I believe such and such a thing, I do actually believe it, I don't believe things merely when they're convenient for me. (And this is apart from how much I hate that style of argument - that "well, you'd feel differently if X happened" school. It's not about what I feel, it's about what I think.)
Anyway, that's a digression. As well as talking about the human implications of the death penalty, there was also a whole lot of factual information. I sat in a corner with my pad and paper and listened to lectures on the death penalty in general, how it has been enacted and abolished, how it fits into the American judicial system as a whole, what the Supreme Court thinks about it, why Justice Scalia is a scary scary man, and by the way has nine children, how it all fits in with European Convention on Human Rights, so on, and so forth. Surprisingly enough, I loved it. I mean, I really did. I'd had a week of school and was giving up my weekend, so I was expecting to at least yawn once or twice, but no: I sat there, took diligent notes, looked forward to the next sections. It was incredibly interesting. Mostly, I was struck by how the American judicial system as a whole is really weird. The appellate structure is incredibly convoluted, what they call a voir dire is certainly not what I would call a voir dire and the jurisdiction of the Supeme Court is kind of... strange. There is a thing called a writ of certiorari that I did not understand after much head-banging and have given up as a lost cause.
Again, though, I lapped this stuff up. I can't put my finger on why it is, but I really do love the law in all guises.
And maybe, just maybe, I should have done it as my first degree. I know, no use crying over spilt milk or whatever, and I did like PPE: but I didn't have this quiet but all-consiming academic passion. I hated economics and I merely thought politics was fine by me. Philosophy I did love, but... still, I am thinking, maybe. If I could only have combined the two I'd have been happy. Philosophy and law equals jurisprudence, I suppose, and that's what the Oxford undergraduate degree is actually in, not law. Wah. I don't know.
Anyway, as a result, I am now doing that thing that you do sometimes when you are totally not thinking about something at all seriously and yet your browser tabs kind of belie you a little bit. I am (not at all) seriously considering doing an LLM, perhaps in the States. Obviously not any time soon - not in the next year or two - but still. Seriously considering. I mean, my LSAT score, while not essential for this sort of thing, is pretty damn good - it's in the median range for the sort of schools I might be interested in - and, I don't know, the websites are all pretty and talk about such interesting courses. (For example, Cardozo does an LLM in Comparative Legal Thought. How awesome is that? And they actually invited me to apply, last year, for their JD programme, which was a very nice compliment which I did not take up at the time.) And there are other places, with similar requirements and very interesting programmes, and just... yes. Sigh.)
Moving right along. I finished that day, amd
jacinthsong and I had considered going to an Indelicates gig that night, but it seemed pretty clear that I wasn't up to it after I'd sat on a Piccadilly line train babbling incoherently about the death penalty in New Mexico, and
apotropaios and
lazyclaire came over and petted me a bit, and after a while I perked up enough to wrap Jon with toilet paper and take pictures. It was a very nice evening, actually, after a very long and quite difficult day - Laura wisely did not tax my brain, poured vodka into me and we watched The West Wing, which was very nice in general and particularly fun because I actually understood the bits about the Supreme Court.
Day two involved an actual case, complete with trial bundles and crime-scene photographs. It was also kind of horrifying, as again, it featured someone locked up for ten years for something they didn't do. The redeeming features were again, the fact it was breathlessly interesting, and also, the people I went through the case with were the sort of people who come to Amicus training weekends and were, as such, the sort of people I like. It was kind of fun to sit around and talk with people who, like me, don't have glorious shiny training contracts with glorious shiny firms, who actually are like me and like the substance of the criminal law, and like advocacy and individuals and just, nice stuff like that. It's always nice to know you are not alone. Afterwards, I didn't go home straight away but wandered around the city for a while, thinking about stuff. I suppose I have this to be grateful: I know what I want to do with my life. I really, honestly do. I just have to pull the whole bloody thing together.
I go back in three weeks for part two of the course, and am actually rather looking forward to it: I had no idea I would enjoy this as much, but I really did. I am looking forward, also, to being a grown-up lawyer some day, maybe, please. Because I do love it, and I'm really ready for something new.