Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Life Parenting Experience #10,973: Criminal Court

I was, I am, pretty naive when it comes to court appearances.

Is it naivety, or is it more that I am 'without this particular Life Experience' which means that any naivety is explicable? I mean, you can't KNOW how things roll unless you've been through the motions, right?  And I haven't rolled through the criminal court process.  I've so far been lucky enough to have avoided it.  It could be a process that adds to one's life and parenting experiences (I can tick that particular box now).

Just to clarify - it's not me up on criminal charges (although, #IAmMetiria etc etc), rather, it is T1.

Here's what I subliminally absorbed/learned/messed up yesterday:

1.  Don't take weapons to court.  Thought I'd start with an obvious one.  There's the metal detector, and bag check inside the front door of the court, just like the security check at the airport, except the security processes at the court are carried out by people who scowl and wear very uncomfortable looking black vests and enormous black boots.  Of course, I didn't take a weapon to court, but a very ornate and heavy tokotoko/rakau/walking stick was allowed in.

2.  Turn off your phone.  I forgot to turn mine off (there are signs).  I took a call in Court just before the Judge walked in, and was just about leapt on by Court staff.  In my defence Your Honour (haha), everything seemed to be happening at a distance yesterday, so it was habitual for me to pick up the phone.  I also saw it was from T1's father, who was typically calling to say he was running late.

3.  Don't assume that anyone will tell you what is going on and when.  The waiting room has a parade of people coming in and out, who seem to know what they are doing (but probably don't).  There was a family group having a good old chuckle in the corner, almost as if they were waiting for their holiday flight to depart.  Curious.  After a time, you'll notice that the lawyers and visitors are consulting a piece of paper on a wooden shelf, behind the door you walked through on your way to sliding unobtrusively into a seat.  You need stand up, find and look at this piece of paper.  It's important.  It is A4 size, and nondescript.  It is the court appearance sheet and it tells you where you should be sitting, which is not in the Waiting Room.  Also, it's important to read it carefully.  There's a difference between Courtroom 2 and the listing below Courtroom 2 that says Jury Room.  They are not the same place.  Now this becomes obvious when you go into Courtroom 2 (or any other number room), when you sit down and you notice there's nowhere for the Jury to sit.  BIG CLUE: it is not the Jury Room.   So, if it's a trial by Jury, find the Jury Room first.

4.  Once you are over the hugeness of the black keplar vests and the boots the Police are wearing (like, really really big boots; they must be hard to run in), take a look again at the faces of the police security peeps.  Find a smiley one, if you are lucky, because it's a sign they could be willing to answer any questions, patiently.  If you are like me, you will stick out like a big orange blob in a sea of black (orange is the colour of my ski jacket I was wearing on that sleety freezing day) and you will look very obviously utterly out of your depth.  I think I felt more at home going on to the floor of the United Nations before my first Explanation of Vote, than I did yesterday in District Court.  I'd like to think that back then I was friendly and helpful to any new emissary arriving from a tiny island country into the world's most important international venue, than any one of the Court staff were yesterday.  That could be because each has a different purpose, maybe?!  Anyway, speaking to the one with the amazing looking dreadlocks was a sure bet.  Hers was the only interaction that felt remotely human.

5.  Hours, days, months, and seasons of Ally McBeal, The Good Wife, and Suits, doesn't mean you have the law lingo or know the law, so don't try using it.  When someone asks what you are looking for, say something really plain like, I'm looking for the room where there's a jury trial starting at 10.    Not: there's a criminal proceedings case being tried by jury before Judge Blah...  Just leave out any details, legal terms at all.  Safer.  Same approach during the proceedings - it's incomprehensible and no amount of tv will help you.

6.  Lawyers and Judges mumble.  Mumble mumble mumble.  It's not helpful to say, wtf, can you speak up into your microphone please, I mean, that's why they are there, so we can HEAR what is going on.  So just frown, lean forward, and remember that you are completely incidental to the whole proceedings and noone gives a flying toss whether the assembled supporters can hear, or even understand what is going on.  You do not matter.

7.  Telepathy doesn't work for the Lotto Draw, so it won't work for sending love across Court to your child.  Just have faith that you raised him/her with good strong values, you were/are a good example to them, they know that you will love them and support them, mostly, and they still have a whole, fabulous life left to live.

Parenting is full of unexpected life experiences: all the best with yours x


Monday, September 11, 2017

In my thousands of hours of social media scanning, dipping and diving between XFactor-must-watch videos, petitions on refugees, life hack cleaning tips, lost maimed or cute cat stories, friends' holiday snaps in Croatia/Myanmar/Bali/India, not once have I read a post about what to do when you are about to go to Court to support your child in a trial, the result of which could be being found not guilty by jury or guilty and facing time in prison.
So, I decided I'd better write that post myself.

Except I have ten minutes before heading into court.
So here's the run down::
1. Tissues but not too many because I won't be crying today
2. Feed other son a healthy breakfast and provide him a huge lunch. It made me feel in control of something
3. Conservative and smart clothes. Wear pounamu and take mum's brooch. Oops not that, it might be deemed a weapon. Take her pen instead.
4. Accept support from family
5. Text T1 (now Twenty something, not Teen anymore) but not too over the top: I'm here, always will be and I love him.
6. Deep breath.

With love to any parent reading this, cos this shit is hard and s whole lot more complex than this blog post typed on my phone outside the Court house.