The Case That Almost Got Away
My first appointed felony client is one I’ll never forget.
He was barely 18.
Already on a six-year deferred probation.
Already carrying two new state jail felony thefts.
Already written off by the system.
But he asked for YMAC—Young Men About Change. Not because he thought he deserved it. But because he still believed change was possible.
The State said no.
“You messed up too badly.” They offered five years on the MAJ. The judge is recommending four to six.”
My client asked for two.
“If I can’t get YMAC, I’ll take two years.”
He’d been in foster care since he was four. And all but one of his pending cases—including two misdemeanors—were picked up after he aged out of CPS custody. No safety net. No transition plan. Just survival.
He’d never had a stable home, a steady advocate, or a safe place to fall. But he had hope. And I had a calling.
So we fought. Back and forth. Negotiations layered with trauma, testimony, and mercy.
And in the end:
- Two years on the MAJ – already parole eligible
- Six months state jail on one theft –the minimum
- The other theft and two misdemeanors dismissed
It wasn’t perfect.
But it was mercy.
And it was enough.
🕊️ The Moment That Shifted Everything
As I walked him through the plea papers—explaining the charges, the terms, the consequences—he looked up and asked:
“Why did you become a lawyer?”
I paused. Because in that moment, it wasn’t about paperwork. It was about purpose.
I told him:
“There are way too many people who look like us in the system, represented by lawyers who don’t care. I wanted to do something about it.”
He nodded slowly. Then said,
“You seem different. You take time to explain things. You don’t cuss at me. You don’t talk down to me like some of the others.”
But the real win wasn’t just the sentence. It was the thank-you.
“Thank you for coming to see me. Thank you for working so hard.” “Thank you for not giving up.”
This case won’t make headlines. But it made history in one young man’s life. And it reminded me why I show up—not just in court, but in person.
📖 Reflection
Sometimes the system sees a file. I see a kid. Sometimes the State sees failure. I see a flicker of hope.
This case reminded me that advocacy isn’t just about arguing—it’s about interceding. It’s about standing in the gap when someone’s past screams louder than their potential. It’s about believing in change, even when the paperwork says otherwise.
On (In)justice 