No One’s Day In Court

We stood in line under large umbrellas for twenty minutes while the rain did not let up. Finally at the door, we take off our coats and display our belongings. Bags are checked, shoes off, jewelry placed in a small plastic bowl. We are not flying anywhere, we are about to enter the federal building where family court is held.

My friend has been divorced for more than a year but she and her ex-husband continue to argue concerning visitation of their young son. There are not serious differences, but the sort of disagreements that any couple might have about how to raise children. All the feelings of hurt and loss get mixed up and placed on the innocent child, who often bears the brunt of their estranged parents’ woes and in family court this is only too clear.

Janie and Ed are third on the judges list. Since this is a short court, and time is of the essence, the judge advises them to go outside with the court appointed mediator to see if they can come to agreement over the items on their laundry list of complaints. They do not return for thirty minutes. Still in the courtroom, I wait and listen to the case presentations of the other broken families.

Father A has not ever been in the baby’s life and now wants visitation rights but the mother does not feel it is in the child’s best interests. Father B is refusing to show his income records to the court. The mother of his child would like him to pay child support especially since he recently bought a high priced condominium. Father C just wants his personal property back as he was in jail during his divorce.

Finally, Janie and Ed come back to the courtroom. The mediator’s hair is disheveled. The ends of her shirt collar are uneven, one lays over the jacket lapel and the other one is under it. She approaches the judge when the case is recalled.

“Your honor, I have tried my best to find a road to agreement but these two have not been able to cooperate.”
The judge looks up over her pince-nez reading glasses.
“I have looked over your list of complaints. You seem to be forgetting that the child’s well being is the main focus here. You have to act like adults and find some way to compromise and come to agreements. Asking me to solve these problems is a waste of the court’s time and expertise.”

Janie and Ed both look a little sheepish but neither of them is allowed to speak. Since either side only gets seven minutes to present their case, there is no way for the judge to make any decisions based on full knowledge of the child or the situation. She can’t know, for example, that Ed’s request for a 7 AM pickup on Sunday mornings to attend mass is unreasonable as the family has never attended church.

The judge goes down the list in record speed and makes arbitrary rulings. Once in awhile she makes a rhetorical comment concerning an hour of pick up or who gets to chaperone on a field trip. She might as well yell out, “What’s wrong with you both? How did you end up like this?”

She cuts all the requests down the middle so neither Janie nor Ed get what they ask for, but both are forced to compromise. The best thing that comes out of the three hours sitting in these wooden pews of justice is the mandatory therapy ordered for the child. At last, he will have his needs come first.