A Murder Most Foul

As I was awaiting the jury's verdict in the Casey Anthony trial today, I couldn't help but think back to the fall of 1995. Sixteen years ago, the country was waiting on the verdict in the O.J. Simpson trial. These two situations are so strikingly similar, but the audience - me - so markedly different. Then, I was a wide-eyed 11 year old, a girl who thought that if you were charged with murder, you must certainly be guilty. Today, I am a 27 year old and the proud owner of one law degree and 16 years of life experience. Then, it was easy to see things as black or white. Today, I know that life sometimes is lived out in the grey area between the two. I still remember the utter helplessness and disbelief upon hearing "not guilty" 16 years ago - and, to an extent, I relived that same disbelief today.

But therein lies the difference between an 11 year old school girl and a 27 year old with a law degree. The funny thing about life is that some lessons can't be unlearned. Some concepts can't be unheard. An overwhelming majority of this country believes Casey Anthony murdered her daughter - and you can count me as part of that majority. I say I only relived that feeling "to an extent" because of what I know now. Then, beyond a reasonable doubt was nothing more than a string of words, an abstract concept, something the actors playing lawyers said on television.  Today, beyond a reasonable doubt is something I know, something I was tested on, asked about, expected to be able to explain.  And one thing I know about it is that it is the highest burden that one can be asked to prove -higher than clear and convincing evidence and higher than a preponderance of the evidence.  This standard requires that the prosecution prove that  no other logical explanation can be derived from the facts, except that the defendant committed the crime, thereby overcoming the presumption that one is innocent until proven guilty.

A lot of people want to blame our justice system for this seeming miscarriage of justice. I suppose when angered, it is easy to point fingers and lay blame. And what bears the brunt of this blame is the system. I, however, believe in the system. Maybe it's because I went to law school, maybe it's because I am unfailingly idealistic, maybe it's because I'm naive -- but maybe, just maybe, it's because the system works. We have a justice system that presumes innocence, that provides for the rights of all who come before it, that strives for fairness in light of the immense burden placed upon it. But it is a system run by people. And we are, after all, just people. People capable of making sound and independent decisions, but also capable of falling under the influence and opinion of others. People committed to justice and reason, but people who are not impervious to passion and emotion. We are also people who want to believe, but are quick to mistrust. So it is with the general perception of the justice system.  I think people find disturbing and frightening the possibility that the guilty will go free, allowed to walk among us, as if their crime did not occur.  But are people as righteously indignant at the possibility that the innocent will be locked away, restricted in every way, for something they did not do?

But I digress. I think the point of this blog is to remember, if only momentarily, what it was like to watch the outcome of a trial with no knowledge of who was who, what was what, or what anything actually meant. I was taken back to a time when "not guilty" meant "innocent," if only to me. When I started law school just shy of 3 years ago, I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. I don't think it ever dawned on me that I would no longer be a simple spectator to anything in a courtroom.  For weeks, we have been watching the trial, discussing the questions asked of the witnesses, critiquing the theories of both sides, and speculating as to what the jurors might be thinking.  Without a law degree, I might have been able to express my outrage at the outcome of this trial a little louder, with a little more shock, and a lot more emphasis. But this is no longer then case. I must admit, about 5 minutes before the verdict was read, I felt in my gut that the jury would file back in and, in unanimous agreement, find Casey Anthony "not guilty." But I'm old enough, and wise enough, now to know that means anything but "innocent."

Murder most foul, as in the best it is,/ But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
-W. Shakespeare, Hamlet, I.v.28-29

All Over But the Bloggin'

Before I get to today's blog challenge blog, I must mention that it's finally over. Law school, that is. After three years that have tested me in ways I have never thought possible, it's over. Wearing-the-robe, choked-by-the-hood, walk-across-the-stage, Betsi-Nelson-J.D. OVER.

Day Eleven: A Story About a Past Relationship

One of the reasons I've been slacking in the blog department is this topic. It has become a tiny road block. And not because I couldn't think of a story about a past relationship, but because there are so many. I have spent time thinking of a thousand happy moments, a thousand heartbreaking moments, and a thousand moments that lie somewhere between the two.

First dates, first kisses, and that first break-up. Relationships that were calm and some that were explosive. Those with conversations that started at sunset and didn't end until sunrise and those with fights that started and ended the same way. There were some relationships that ran their course and ended long after they were through. And there has been at least one that ended abruptly and left everything unfinished.  There have been relationships where, in learning about someone else, I learned about myself. There have been relationships where everything made sense. And some where, no matter how hard I tried, they couldn't be figured out. There has been love shared, tears shared, secrets shared.

Zora Neale Hurston says that there are years that ask questions and years that answer. Relationships, certainly, work the same way.

"Passion is something you don't really miss, after it has cooled. It is like looking at an empty bottle on the side of the road and thinking, 'Boy, I wish I had a Coke.'  The loves you miss are the ones that go away when they are still warm, even hot, to the touch." -Rick Bragg, All Over But the Shoutin'

I Wish I was as Cool as Beckett Thinks I Am...

....because that would be great! I'd be super talented.

He's been such a sweetheart today. I have a paper due at 5 o'clock tomorrow and, quel suprise, it is NOT EVEN CLOSE to being finished. So, I asked him what movie he wanted to watch (the committee's been behind...when can I expect my "Mom of the Year" trophy to finally get here?) while I worked on my paper. And, of course, he said Beauty and the Beast (he could not be more like me). And every time Belle sings a song he asks me, no, demands, that I "sing with it. Sing like she does!". When I try to explain to him that one day he is going to need to be

able to hear, so maybe I shouldn't sing, he replies, "But you sound like her and I like it. Now sing!". And yes, delusion does run in the family.

While I'm procrastinating, I may as well say a few more things about Beckett...

Favorite Foods: CORNDOGS. Hotdogs, too, for that matter. He still, however, LOVES fruit (strawberries especially) and most vegetables. Pizza, of course, he is 3. Chicken nuggets and peanut butter and jelly are usual sure to please. And fried chicken. But ONLY if he can eat it "off the bone."

Favorite TV Shows/Movies: He loves to watch Curious George, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and Imagination Movers. He will watch anything that is animated, so I have to really keep tabs on him or he'll turn on the TV and find something

himself. He LOVES Beauty and the Beast, An American Tail (which according to him is about "Bivel"), Pinocchio, and Finding Nemo. And he is NOT a fan of Aladdin or The Lion King, much to my dismay. We are actually watching Beauty and the Beast right now, and B just got mad because the Beast was no longer a beast.

Favorite Books: Much like me, Beckett loves to read. He loves ALL Little Critter books by Mercer Mayer. He also loves the Franklin books (by Paulette Bourgeois) and any book about Arthur (by Marc Brown). Of the Dr. Seuss

books, The Lorax is his favorite (and mine!). He probably has over 200 books

and will let you read any of them to him, but some more than others. He has memorized Good Night, Moon and David Gets in Trouble and parts of countless other books.

About Beckett: He is super curious about everything and his favorite thing to say is still, "Why?" or "What is that?" He is very sweet and loving, but is ALL boy. He loves to play outside on the new "trubhouse" (clubhouse) that My Buddy just built him. He is his grandfather's little shadow. Whatever My Buddy does, wherever My Buddy goes, B is right behind him. He is strong-willed and very much a 3-year-old these days, but he knows when to stop trying to push my buttons. He has a memory like a steel trap. He literally remembers EVERYTHING.

Well, I guess that's all for now. Back to law school.....

Tender is the Afternoon

Beckett went down for a nap around 1:30 this afternoon, and since then, I have done nothing, and it has been fantastic. Well, I read some more of Tender is the Night, listened to some Edith Piaf and Ray LaMontagne, and g chatted with P. Lovely.

And, I went for a 30 minute-ish bike ride last night, and this morning B and I went on an hour-long walk. I am so glad the eather is finally nice, humid, but nice. 

It is a damn shame that classes have start back (at least for Brandi, Caitlin, & me) on Monday. But, on the bright side, they are night classes, so I'll still be able to enjoy my days with B!   

...And Expands Again

Caitlin and I went to Trade-N-Books (at least I think that's what it's called) and I got tons o' books. I can't remember all of them, but here are a few I picked up:

A Selection of Plays by Henrik Ibsen
Some crazy book about Scientology
Origin of Species by Charles Darwin
Sons and Lovers by D.H. Lawrence
Struck and White's Elements of Style (this is a replacement, I lost mine years ago)
A book about Roman history

That's only about half of what I got and I could not be more excited.

In law school news, I have made a B+ in Torts, Contracts, Property, and Criminal Law! Turns out studying your ass off does tend to pay off :0)

T-minus One Day.....

One day until the Contracts final.  And I think I may actually have this down. MAY...

When your eyes are tired

the world is tired also.

When your vision is gone

no part of the world can find you.

Time to go into the dark

where the night has eyes

to recognize its own.

There you can be sure

you are not beyond love.

The dark will be you womb

tonight.

The night will give you a horizon

further than you can see.

You must learn one thing:

the world was made to be free in.

Give up all other worlds

except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes its takes the darkness and the sweet

confinement of your aloneness

to learn

Anything or anyone 

that does not bring you alive

Is too small for you.

-David Whyte, Sweet Darkness

Happy Poetry Month! (and other things that keep me from studying)

There's a poem in my head
like too many cups of coffee.
A pea under twenty eiderdowns.
A saddness in my heart like stone.
A telephone. And always my
Night madness that outs like bats
across this Texas sky.

I'm the crazy lady they warned you about
The she of rumor talked about -
and worse, who talks.

It's not secret.
I'm here. Under a cricle of light.
The light always on, resisting a glass,
an easy cigar. The kind

who reels the twilight sky.
Swoop circling.
I'm witch woman high
on tobacco and holy water.

I'm a woman delighted with her disasters.
They give me something to do.
A profession of sorts.
Keeps me industrious
And of a servicable use.

In dreams the origami of the brain
Opens like a fist, a pomegranate,
an expensive geometry.

Not true.
I haven't a clue
Why I'm rumpled tonight.

Choose your weapon.
Mine -- the telephone, my tongue.
Both black as a gun.

I have the magic of words,
the power to charm and kill at will.
To kill myself or to aim haphazardly.
And kill you.
-Sandra Cisneros, Night Madness Poem


April is Poetry Month. I know I'm a little late, but it's still April, so it counts. Not that anyone reading this blog has time to read, but if you find yourself wanting something good to read, I suggest The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros. Amazing.

In other, infinitely more horrendous and miserable news, the Property outline is giving me a headache. A very large headache. Maybe gin will cure it.

And in "Check yourself before you wreck yourself" news, Beckett has taken to saying this on the regular. And he's added a sassy hip shake. As if to say, "You really better check yourself, fool." One more piece of evidence mounting that will prove that he is me in every way possible. Sorry, world.

27 Days Until the End of 1L Hell...

...Crim Law outline = DONE AND DONE!

Now, on to Property. MacLeod, take mercy on my soul.

On to happier things...

"I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you--especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous channel, and two hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly. And as for you, you'd forget me." - Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre

Well, not that happy. But I love it.