Anyone who has watched crime shows or movies has a vague idea of how criminal arraignments are supposed to work in the United States. We think arraignments happen in courtrooms. We believe that accused individuals—who, after all, are presumed innocent until they’ve been proven guilty—have attorneys at their sides. And we think that judges weigh several factors in deciding whether or not the accused person can go free while their case is pending, including the level of danger the accused may pose to the community and whether or not they’ll show up for their day in court.
But in Michigan’s 36th District Court, the truth looks more like a horror movie than a crime show, at least for people who can’t afford either an attorney or cash bail. There’s no real, live judge, as arrested individuals aren’t even arraigned in a courtroom. Instead, they’re arraigned via video camera from a room at the local jail. The entire arraignment lasts just two to three minutes. The process goes so fast that even seasoned attorneys who observed arraignments for the ACLU of Michigan frequently had trouble figuring out what was going on. Accused people aren’t allowed to ask the judge any questions, and in some cases are warned that if they try, anything they say may be used against them later.
Finally, when the quickie arraignment is over, there is one and only one factor that determines whether accused people are allowed to go home pending trial: whether or not they can afford to buy their way out of jail.
On April 15, the ACLU of Michigan announced a class-action lawsuit in an attempt to force the court to overhaul what it says is “an unconstitutional cash bail system that discriminates against poor people.” According to Dan Korobkin, the ACLU of Michigan’s deputy legal director, “Bail was originally intended to ensure a person returns to court to face charges against them. But instead, the money bail system … punishes people not for what they’ve done but because of what they don’t have.”
Plaintiffs’ sworn statements submitted as part of the ACLU lawsuit tell the stories of people who are at risk of losing their educational opportunities, jobs, homes, and even health, all because they can’t afford to pay for the presumption of innocence.
Davontae Ross was arrested on April 11 because he may have entered a park after dark back in 2014. According to his statement to the ACLU of Michigan, since being arrested Ross has missed an appointment with Child Protective Services, his GED classes, and a job interview, all because he can’t afford the $200 the court wants him to pay for his freedom.
Timothy Lucas, a 65-year-old man living on disability, was arrested on April 9 on a misdemeanor assault charge. Lucas, who suffers from medical conditions including a seizure disorder, hypertension, an enlarged heart, and asthma, hadn't received a single of his prescribed medications since April 12. The court wants Lucas to pay $350 to be presumed innocent.
Starmanie Jackson, a single mom, was supposed to start her first day on a new job as a certified nursing assistant. Instead Jackson, who was arrested on April 8 for traffic tickets and an undisclosed felony charge, missed that first day of work and hasn't seen her children—because she can't afford the total of $700 it would take to buy her way out of jail.
Seventeen-year-old Keshawn Moore has missed two tests at school. Asia Dixon lost out on not just one, but two jobs, and may lose her children because she has missed appointments with the foster care system. Keith Lovell Wilson told the ACLU he's at risk of losing his apartment if he isn't released in time to go pay his rent.
All of the ACLU's plaintiffs were arraigned by video camera, without an attorney in sight. Most said that their arraignments went by so quickly they didn't understand some or all of what was happening.
Many said they were specifically instructed, either by prison guards or the judge, not to ask any questions during their arraignments. "If I did, the judge said it could be used against me in a court of law," Jackson said in her statement.
The plaintiffs weren’t alone in being confused. Seasoned attorneys who observed hundreds of arraignments for the ACLU were also left shaking their heads.
Judith Lowitz Adler, a Farmington Hills attorney who has been in practice for 37 years, stated that she observed 98 arraignments, each lasting roughly three minutes. According to Adler's sworn statement, the arraignments were so fast that “It seemed to me that the magistrates had no interest in being understood but in just finishing the arraignment as quickly as they could.”
“As an organization working to end the cash bail system, the Detroit Justice Center understands why the ACLU has filed this lawsuit,” Justice Center communications officer Casey Rocheteau told Daily Kos on April 17.
“Recently, we worked to bail out a woman who was nine months pregnant. Despite the health and safety risks incarceration posed to her, she wasn't released on personal recognizance,” Rocheteau added. “This is one extreme example of what our clients face, but it highlights the broader issue—people are rushed through the system with little to no consideration of their personal or financial circumstances.”
Michigan State Rep. David LaGrand, one of several co-sponsors of bills aiming to reform the cash bail system throughout Michigan, told Daily Kos that he agrees with the ACLU's aims but would rather fix the problem through legislation, calling the legislative approach a "much more democratic" method.
However, LaGrand added that he hopes the ACLU suit "gives some of my colleagues a greater sense that this is a problem we need to fix and gives them a sense of urgency for moving forward with a solution."
Whether that solution comes from the ACLU's lawsuit or the state legislature, it won't happen soon enough for poor metro Detroiters who are losing jobs, housing, health, and even custody of their children because they can't afford to buy their freedom.
Dawn Wolfe is a freelance writer and journalist based in Ann Arbor, Michigan. This post was written and reported through our Daily Kos freelance program.