Inspired by Foucault

A Personal Injustice

I thought I'd share a story:

About a year ago, I had a run in with the law. They say you are allowed three “fuck-ups” in life (excuse my language), and here I was at number one, charged with a D.W.I. in the toughest judicial town south of Trenton. My punishment: one year removal of license; community service; a class on alcohol abuse; and a 48 hour outpatient program. As harsh as this may sound, it only gets worse.
Traveling in Bolivia, for a service-learning program, my instruction by the court to attend an alcohol abuse class was missed. On my return, I rescheduled the class promptly and went to court to show proof of my attendance. A couple days after, I was sent a letter in the mail to attend the class again. Realizing they had made a mistake, I called the office and was told I would be taken off the roster, but weeks later I received another letter summoning me to court. With no doubt in my mind that somebody made another clerical error, I went to court in confidence that everything was going to be just another misunderstanding. Sadly, I was wrong. Standing in front of the same judge I had shown proof to weeks before, I was accused of not attending the class and sentenced to two days mandatory jail time. Before I could open my mouth to explain, I was cuffed and led out of the courtroom.
Locked up in the courthouse, I did the only thing I could and began to plea my case to the officer who had led me there. As hysterical as I was, he assured me that if I was telling the truth, I would be released. Hours later, the officer returned. He explained that they checked the system, and I was right. I had attended the class. My relief was instantaneous, but unfortunately short lived... The officer went on to explain that the court had closed and the judge had left for the day, and the sentence would have to stand until morning. But in compensation for my time, I would not have to attend the 48 hour outpatient program. And so it was, I was sent to jail.
In my world, I have yet to understand how a 48 hour outpatient program compares to the 16 hours I spent in jail. Because of a clerical error I was stripped naked, sprayed with delousing chemicals, thrown in an unflattering orange jumpsuit, and treated like a criminal. Not to mention, at twenty years old—three years past seventeen—the last thing I ever expected to be called again was “jail-bait.” Thankfully isolated from the other inmates, because of an irremovable facial piercing, the cat calls were only momentary yet the verbal abuse by the staff was constant. Overall, the experience was dehumanizing, undeserving, and repulsive.
Unfortunately, reliving my experience through Foucault’s discussion of punishment has not been easy. The injustices of the judicial system that existed centuries ago still exist today, despite the evolution of checks and balances in the power system. Many people are wrongfully accused and charged every day, serving time for an unjust sentence or somebody else’s mistake. Being forced into an environment of psychological terror, where punishment turns towards revenge, and citizens are assumed guilty before innocent.
In an update on my status, I recently received a letter to attend the 48 hour outpatient program I was told I would not have to fulfill. Sixteen hours of my life were wrongfully taken away from me, and there is nothing to be done about it. The judge has the last word, maneuvering the rules to justify my unlawful punishment.