What I'd Like to Tell the Judge, But I Probably Won't

Dear Judge,

I am an elementary school teacher. But I’m more than just a teacher to my 26 fourth and fifth graders. I’m also their mom, friend, counselor, drill sergeant, CEO, and social worker. I’m a judge, jury, and law enforcement officer. Like you, I must listen to both sides of the story to make a fair judgment. I strive to make those decisions with fairness, empathy, and a touch of humanity. If I do my job well, you won’t see my students in your courtroom in the future.

Like a law enforcement officer, I have rules that I expect my students to follow. If they don’t follow the rules, I must decide on the consequences. That’s the hardest part of my job, as it is not always an open and shut case. I must take into consideration the offense, the offender, his or her background, and his or her previous record.

I’d like to give you a bit of information about my background, if only for a chance for some empathy or humanity from the court. I have been married for 20 years. Eight years ago my husband was diagnosed with Muscular Dystrophy. On that day, we were, in effect, given a life sentence. Even though the diagnosis was not life-threatening, it would forever change the quality of life that we knew. It is a steadily debilitating disease. In the past eight years, my husband has gone from being fairly ambulatory to needing to walk with two canes and relying on the use of an electric scooter to get around. I long ago saw that my idea of what we would do together once the kids grew up and moved away would no longer come to pass. There would be no walks together along the beach. There aren’t walks at the beach now. There is so much you give up when someone in your immediate family is disabled. If you aren’t in that situation, then you can sympathize, but you never will know exactly what it is like.

Last fall, my husband began to notice that he had tingling sensations in his hands and forearms, like they were falling asleep. His doctor concluded that it was due to his use of canes, his only way to get around without his scooter, which was causing the tingling, like carpal tunnel. But it continued to get worse. This past month he has hardly been able to use his hands at all. When his arms and hands are really the only part of him that is working, this is bad. The past few weeks I have had to help him on with his socks. I’ve had to help him on with his shirts. I get his coffee. I pour it. I do everything, while still taking care of my two teenage girls and teaching full time. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever picture myself having to take care of my husband like this before I was even 50.

Finally, he saw a spine specialist. An MRI showed that two vertebrae in his spine were slipping and squeezing a nerve. It was decided that my husband should have surgery on his spine to fuse those two vertebrae together. We were nervous, very scared at what could happen if something went wrong during surgery, and hopeful that this would bring back the use of his hands.

That is where we were headed the morning of my ticket. We got a late start since it takes twice as long for my husband to do the things he has normally been able to do. We left and hit the heavy traffic in in our little town; traffic that was made up mostly of parents and students heading to the high school. As the road split into two lanes, I kept in the right lane, knowing that the bulk of the traffic would be left, eventually turning into the turn lane to head to the high school. As I continued down the hill towards the stop light at the McDonalds, I saw a small pickup truck veer quickly from the left lane into the right lane, almost causing an accident. At that point, my only thought was to go around that pickup truck, as the driver seemed erratic. I was headed downhill once the light turned green, and I accelerated to move into the left lane since it was clear of all the high school traffic. Then I saw the lights of the police car, and we were pulled over.

I was panicked, as we had already gotten a late start to the hospital. I rolled my window down. I don’t exactly recall what the officer said, but I imagine that he asked me if I knew I had been speeding. I honestly answered that I really wasn’t aware at that point, as my only thoughts were to get my husband to the hospital for a spinal surgery because we were late. His reply was something to the effect that he’d move as quickly as possible then.

Now, I did not try to deny my speed. I also knew it wouldn’t do any good to explain about the truck. I was the one who got caught. If I see Billy throw a pencil across the classroom, I will have to speak to Billy immediately in the hallway, or later during his recess. If he says, “But Bobby threw it first,” I reply, “But unfortunately, you were the one who got caught.” I do know this.

But, let’s say I have a due date for an essay, and on the day it is due, some students don’t turn it in. I could punish all of the students who didn’t get their essay turned in. After all, it was my rule, my expectation. They broke my rule. But I must also judge each child separately. What is the home life like? Do they have parents at home to help them make corrections on their essay, to help them type it up nice and neat? Or are their parents immigrants who don’t speak English, and so can’t help them? Are parents even home to remind them to do their homework?
I also look back in my Grade book. Is this a student who usually gets homework in and so this one assignment not coming in is a rarity? Or does this child always get his or her assignments in late, and so this is a regular event?

The police officer called in my license to check my record. I’m pretty sure it was a good record. I was hit by another car on the freeway last November on Thanksgiving. Before that, I hit a car when I was changing lanes on I-5 about four or five years ago. I don’t believe I have a speeding ticket that would show up on my record. I think my last speeding ticket was in the year 2000 when I was heading up up a steep hill in another nearby city. I think I was going 35 in a 25mph zone. I’m pretty cautious. I try to always be aware of my speed. The morning of February 28th, I had a lot on my mind.

I think I have given you enough information so that you can get a clear picture of what happened. I’m obviously not a young, inexperienced driver who needs to be taught a lesson. The situation that surrounded my morning was stressful. I was not in my usual frame of mind. And to think that I had to start this stressful day with a traffic ticket…it just was too much. It did, however, make for a great story to tell each staff employee we dealt with throughout the day. They were all incredulous that I still received a ticket even though I had to get to the hospital. I hope I have given you enough information so that you can make a fair judgment with a touch of empathy and a touch of humanity.

Thank you.