Rosemary Riddell - To Be Fair: Confessions of a District Court Judge

TO BE

FAIR

TO BE

FAIR

Confessions of
a District
Court Judge

ROSEMARY RIDDELL

A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of New Zealand

ISBN 978-1-990003-16-5
ePub ISBN 978-1-990003-25-7
Mobi ISBN 978-1-990003-26-4

An Upstart Press Book
Published in 2021 by Upstart Press Ltd
Level 6, BDO Tower, 1921 Como St, Takapuna
Auckland 0622, New Zealand

Text Rosemary Riddell 2021
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
Design and format Upstart Press Ltd 2021

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Designed by Nick Turzynski/Redinc. Book Design, www.redinc.co.nz
Printed by Everbest Printing Co. Ltd., China

Contents

For Mike

An I will love thee still my dear
Till a the seas gang dry

Preface

I HAD BEEN a judge for 12 years and after retiring from full-time work in December 2018 I took up an Acting Warrant. That enabled me to work part-time as a judge, travelling around the country on an as-needed basis. But just before this book was published, I relinquished my Acting Warrant.

This book represents many of the things I wanted to say at times, while on the bench. As you will see from some of the more ribald comments, it would never do for a judge to voice them. However, a retired judge can say what she likes, and there were, in my view, some things that needed to be said.

Put that together with the more personal reflections and here you have what I think on a number of topics. They are, of course, my own views and I dont expect everyone to agree with them. It would be a dreary old world indeed if we all thought the same.

Some of my colleagues may grumble that I have given away too much. That judging is such a high profession and it is impolite at best to divulge the more crass aspects of the job. They may be right.

On the other hand, I relate what actually happens. Any judge could add their own book of the humour and pathos that make up a judges day. It really is that funny and that sad.

Writing the book has been a kind of therapy for me. I loved the job. I was very reluctant to let it go, but the amount of travel involved made it impractical. Then my now 92-year-old mother moved next door, at our invitation I should add.

I recognised a freedom in being available for coffees, taking long walks in the Ida Valley where we live and making time for playing the piano. I have a little chapel in our back garden. It is a perfect spot for reading and reflection. I wanted to make that part of the rhythm of my life too.

Then, of course, theres Mike, my partner of 46 years. It was my idea to live in Central Otago in the first place. I figured the endless sky, and all that fresh air, might chase away his prostate cancer. He has always loved Central and that love is shared by our daughter and son-in-law who now live just 50 metres down the road.

I realised there are things you must let go. Knowing that meant my job, I started, on a whim, writing about it one day and couldnt stop. I wanted to tell the stories of those in both the Family Court and the criminal jurisdiction where I worked. I wanted to draw attention to their struggles and triumphs.

I also wanted people to see that judges are not high and mighty or unreachable. We are just ordinary people doing a rather demanding and difficult job, and it is a job that keeps our feet on the ground.

I dont apologise for the language youll find here. If your sensibilities are offended, then maybe this is not for you. But I figure it is okay. In many cases I have faithfully repeated what people have said, and I did want to be an honest recorder of the facts! Moreover, it is hard to watch a movie, peruse Facebook or overhear a conversation these days without a few expletives being dotted about. To that extent, we are blas about it.

We used to tell our children it was okay to swear, provided you saved it for stuff like banging your thumb with a hammer. So the odd swear word was never entirely taboo when the children were growing up.

I realise I wander in the book from tales of judging to other subjects, on which I am certainly not an expert. But to the extent we are all living in Aotearoa New Zealand, we all have views about those thorny issues of poverty, family violence and racism. I have put in my two cents worth. They are views that have been influenced by my years on the bench and coloured by what I have observed.

The other aspect of this story that is perhaps surprising for some is the personal one. Mike and I have known grief, like many. I have found time and time again that sharing that grief can be healing for the listener. It leads to other stories being shared and so breaks through the barrier of keeping pain buried deep.

My parents lost their first child only days after she was born healthy in 1951. Thereafter no one spoke of it. Not my parents families, not friends. No one. I realise we have come some way since then, but still we bottle up stuff and it spews out in all kinds of inappropriate ways. What if we could be honest about our pain?

At the other end of the spectrum theres humour, and I am a firm believer that we all need a healthy dose of it on a regular basis. Sometimes, it has been difficult being a judge, and I have wanted to stuff my gown in my mouth to stop from laughing helplessly at what goes on. Especially when a witness or defendant is completely oblivious to the effect of what they have just said.

They say, sober as a judge, which I gather has nothing to do with alcohol intake but is more about a serious, grave manner. It is that image I wanted to poke a few holes in.

My children call me Judge Mental. It is an indication of the lack of deference shown me at home. They have kept me honest in a job where it is tempting to believe your own myths, namely that you hold the power, and all others must defer to you. In fact, we judges are servants of the people. We are here to carry out the legislative decisions and statutes enacted by Parliament. We cannot make up our own idea of justice, nor can we impose some random sentence on a hapless defendant just because we dont like the cut of their jib. Our role is to treat everyone the same, with impartiality and respect.

That said, we are human very human and in the pages that follow you will see exactly what I mean.

Enjoy!

Mental health

YOU SEE JUDGE, I dont need to be in hospital. Im feeling fine. Ive got somewhere to stay.

It all sounded plausible. If Id asked him to stop there, he might have been discharged. But Id read the file: paranoid delusions, frequent hospitalisations. The medical team were united in their view he should remain on the ward.

And Ive got money.

Oh, yes? I said. Tell me about that.

Well, last week I won two trillion on Lotto. Dont tell anyone especially not those people sitting behind you.

Where? I almost turned round, then remembered the bare wall behind me.

Cause theyre ready to rip me off.

Okay, sir. Thank you. Im going to make a decision.

I can see the medical team are relieved. They know whats coming.

Sir, I think its great youre feeling better and have organised some digs. I know youre anxious to leave hospital, but I think its a bit early in your recovery.