By Ann Nicholson
April 6, 2001
Earlier this year, when the news of presidential pardons was dominated by tales of political intrigue and financial improprieties, students and faculty in the School of Law's Civil Justice Clinic were quietly pursuing meritorious commutations from both President Bill Clinton and Gov. Mel Carnahan. Unlike the "pardongate" cases, the clinic was seeking well-deserved consideration for female prisoners who were victims of domestic violence, and in one case, whose former political beliefs had led to unjust treatment.
 Third-year law students Jodi Wilson (from left) and Joan Ritchey discuss the role that law school clinics play in helping the disenfranchised access justice. Also in the discussion are Jane Aiken, J.D., professor of law and director of the law school's Civil Justice Clinic, and Susan Rosenberg, a federal prisoner who was granted clemency thanks to Aiken's efforts. Wilson and Ritchie worked on a habeas corpus brief related to Rosenberg's case.
|
The clinic's students, faculty and staff recently celebrated their success in assisting several of these women prisoners, including the commutation of Susan Rosenberg, a federal prisoner who was released thanks to the efforts of the clinic director, Jane Aiken, J.D., professor of law, and of another attorney, Mary O'Melveny. While much of the students' clinical work involves assisting domestic violence victims with adult orders of protection and representing children as guardians ad litem, the clemency projects created another avenue for pursuing justice for the disenfranchised, Aiken said.
At a recent law school conference on "Access to Equal Justice," Rosenberg shared with clinic students and 200 attendees the arduous journey leading to the commutation of her 58-year sentence. An activist in the Black and Puerto Rican liberation and anti-Vietnam War movements, Rosenberg was sentenced in 1985 for the possession of weapons, explosives and false identification. The judge who handed down her sentence, which was 16 times the national average for such an offense, cited her political ideology as the basis for his decision.
Although conspiracy charges against Rosenberg arising out of a notorious 1981 Brinks robbery in New York were dropped, unsubstantiated allegations from the case ultimately were used to keep Rosenberg in prison, Aiken said.
"Although Susan never was given the opportunity to go to trial to prove her innocence in the Brinks case, the parole commission, in a flagrant violation of her due process rights, ordered Susan to remain in prison," Aiken said.
Aiken added that the parole board reached this decision, even though Rosenberg's codefendant was granted parole in 1997 and her political views had changed profoundly.
"This clearly was a continuing story of a miscarriage of justice," Aiken said. "Susan was denied parole in spite of the fact that she was a model prisoner who even developed an AIDS education curriculum for the prison system and was viewed as 'fully rehabilitated' by the parole commission."
Rosenberg cited Aiken among the primary figures who ultimately ensured that she achieved justice.
"I had the bad luck of being sentenced right at the cusp of when prison reform went out the window, and vengeance became the name of the game," Rosenberg said. "I was in isolation, small-group isolation and segregated within a men's prison. I have experienced every form of indignity.
"I didn't buy my pardon, and I want to thank all those people, including Jane Aiken, who were part of a concerted, collective, 5 1/2-year effort to get me out. The struggle for justice is a living, breathing thing that does not always happen. You just have to keep going after it again and again and again."
Third-year law student Joan Ritchey, who worked on a habeas corpus petition the clinic was planning to pursue had Rosenberg been denied clemency, said working on the case was "a unique and rewarding experience."
"The injustice of the case was striking, so we tried to write a petition demonstrating how severely Susan had been denied due process," Ritchey said. "Both in this case, and another I was preparing seeking clemency from Gov. Carnahan for a victim of domestic violence, illustrated how arbitrary the clemency system can be. There is such a limited window of consideration for these very important petitions that seek justice when the system has failed."
At the state level, the clinic students joined their peers in law schools throughout Missouri seeking clemency for a number of women who were victims of domestic violence and had killed their abuser. The project took a tragic turn when Carnahan was killed in a plane crash shortly before the end of his term.
However, C.J. Larkin, J.D., the clinic's staff attorney, took solace in seeing that one of these women was granted parole. Building upon work students had done in their client's clemency case, Larkin was able to successfully advocate for the woman's release.
Clinic student Protima Pandey, who is pursuing the international graduate-level program at the law school, noted that helping women who are seemingly powerless is a critical part of the clinic's work.
"As students, we sometimes forget that every woman is not as privileged as we are," Pandey said. "Those of us who are privileged must use our position to empower other women. Just by being there and helping these women navigate through the system, we can make a difference."
| Medical News |
Washington People |
Calendar | More
Campus News |
Campus Watch |
| Sports | Email Us! |
Record Staff |
Front Page | WU Home Page |