Who has time vs. who does time?

Recently, a man showed up to Poughkeepsie City Court for an unpaid traffic violation.  Because of circumstances with his employment, his public defender asked for a four-week extension to pay the outstanding fine. Judge Mora scoffed, “I’ll give him two weeks.” The arbitrariness and apparent pettiness of the comment has stuck with me. Since starting court watch, I have been struck by the judge’s power to decide at will how long it would or should take a defendant to complete some task. Of course I understand that judges have a responsibility to make sure that sentences are carried out. However, after observing several court sessions, I am left wondering: who gets the benefit of the doubt? 

Time is a commodity, and for many people not an abundant one. For those caught up in the criminal justice system, time is even more precious, since every missed court date is another mark of delinquency that won’t be ignored. I’m reminded of another case where a man was censured for missing a court date. When he explained that he had to watch his two-year-old niece, Judge Mora replied “well, you should have brought her with you.” Common sense tells me that Judge Mora would rather not have a two-year-old in his courtroom; the admonishment was really intended to emphasize to the defendant in front of him, and probably others in the court, that there is no real excuse to be absent. This unforgiving mindset fundamentally misunderstands the circumstances in which people in poverty—those disproportionately caught up in and punished by the criminal justice system—consistently find themselves. 

The reality is that where there is a demanding judge, there may also be a demanding boss, a demanding home life, and a whole slew of other demanding responsibilities. Furthermore, when defendants do show up to court, more often than not nothing is resolved, and their case is simply adjourned to a later court date. From data gathered by myself and the other Dutchess County court watchers, 58% of Mora’s defendants have had more than five prior appearances and 27% have more than ten. The overwhelming majority of these are simply for “further proceedings.” However frustrating missed appearances may be for judges, it is just as frustrating for defendants to attend court date after court date, potentially sitting around for hours to be called up, only to be given yet another court date. At a certain point, these postponements represent an onerous hardship.

When Judge Mora ignores these realities, he renders them invisible, and so missed court dates are instead attributed to laziness or a defendant’s inherent criminality. It is impossible to ignore the racial dynamics of these interactions as well--more often than not in the City of Poughkeepsie court, court watchers see a Black or Latino defendant standing before a seated white judge, who is admonishing them for a situation often beyond their control. This imperious behavior by the judge underlies the association between race, poverty, and assumptions of criminality that implicitly manifests in the courtroom on a daily basis.

 This is the framework of justice that Mora evokes when he, frankly, punishes people for not having the time to show up—that is, for the circumstances of their lives. It is even more apparent at the end of each court session, when a succession of case numbers are read aloud, followed by “failed to appear,” and finally, “bench warrant issued.” It strikes me that those with the least amount of time to spare are those most likely to end up doing some time.