Pubdate: Thu, 11 Sep 2008
Source: Vancouver Sun (CN BC)
Copyright: 2008 The Vancouver Sun
Contact: http://www.canada.com/vancouversun/letters.html
Website: http://www.canada.com/vancouversun/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/477
Author: Pete McMartin
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/find?159 (Drug Courts)

NEW COMMUNITY COURT CONVENES

At 9:13 a.m. Wednesday morning -- things were running late -- a 
sheriff announced, "Order in court. All rise," and Provincial Court 
Judge Thomas Gove emerged from an antechamber, strode to his bench 
and sat down. The first day of Vancouver's new community court had convened.

The courtroom smelled of new carpet. It was a small space, a little 
larger than a racquetball court.

All 27 seats in the public gallery were taken, filled mostly with 
journalists, and the weight of bodies and the room's close dimensions 
gave the proceedings a claustrophobic air. Judge Gove -- balding, 
close-cropped hair, bifocals perched on his nose -- leaned forward and said:

"We are trying new approaches in this court . . . so we ask the users 
of the court and the public to be patient with us as we work through 
the wrinkles . . . as there will be."

He then asked members of the media not to divulge the names of those 
who appeared before him.

He said he hoped the press would respect their privacy so they could 
get on with their lives in dignity.

His implication was, things will be done differently here: Justice in 
community court will be an agent of the second chance, not public 
shame. And offenders, who will have committed less serious crimes 
like property theft or drug possession, will have signalled their 
willingness to try to change their ways by first accepting 
responsibility for their crime.

And to aid that rehabilitation, an on-site triage team of probation 
officers, and health, housing and social services workers will be 
there to work with the accused.

Sometimes, a sentence might mean jail time, but more likely it will 
be community service, or orders to seek addiction counselling.

And speed is of the essence.

The court hopes to hear 1,500 cases in a year, and help clear the 
legal logjam paralysing the courts.

"Where [a case] could take 14 months in the past," said Crown counsel 
Andrew Cochrane, who attended on Wednesday, "the idea is now they do 
it in a day."

For the record, the court's deliberations began with a sputtering 
start. The first case was referred to another date -- the accused, a 
woman, failed to show. She was in hospital. Cases two, three and four 
were stood down for various reasons -- in one man's case, his lawyer 
had failed to show.

But at 9:18 a.m., a sheriff led in the court's first warm body -- a 
bleary-eyed guy with tousled brown hair and tattoos on both forearms.

He wore brown khaki shorts and shirt, and light blue paper jail 
slippers. He had spent the night in jail.

His name was Devon Lloyd. He was 35. (Lloyd had no objection to 
having his names used when he was interviewed later.) He was 
originally from Kelowna and was now living on the streets in 
Vancouver. He had a bit of a record, he said, but nothing recent. He 
had, he said, "an alcohol addiction."

He had been caught shoplifting food at the Safeway on Davie Street.

Gove's deliberation took two minutes. He referred Lloyd to the 
court's triage unit, and ordered him to return to court later that 
morning for sentencing. Did the accused understand, Gove asked? The 
accused did.

Later in the morning, Lloyd reappeared. He had met with the triage 
unit, which would help him find accommodation, and set up sessions 
for addiction counselling. Gove sentenced him to four hours of 
community service -- he would be working in maintenance at the 
Lookout Shelter -- and ordered Lloyd to reappear in court three weeks hence.

"If you satisfy these conditions," Gove said, "the plan is not to 
proceed with the charge."

There were other cases that morning -- a man arrested for shoplifting 
school supplies for his kids; a native woman with addiction problems 
who had failed to appear in court and when asked by Gove if she 
wished to say anything, said, "That I do want to change."

And after his sentencing, Lloyd left the courthouse, accompanied by a 
court worker who was walking him over to the Lookout Shelter.

TV crews and reporters crowded around him when he came out. He seemed 
bemused by the attention. When asked how this was different from his 
other court appearances, he said, "Well, I was never on camera afterwards."

What did he think of the speed of the community court system?

He thought it good, he said: he would get some income assistance and 
a place to stay, and any other time he would still be sitting in a jail cell.

All around us were the walking wounded of the Downtown Eastside -- 
dozens and dozens of people shuffling and weaving and hurtling 
forward in that jerky way addicts do when they're high, but many of 
them stopped and wondered at the circle of television cameras. The 
street traffic seemed to come to a halt. That's when somebody asked 
Lloyd, what's next? Will this help him rehabilitate?

"Well, it's all up to me, I guess," he said.

And with that, he walked away. The media scrum broke up. It was as if 
someone had thrown a switch because now that the show was over, the 
street scene seemed to resume, with the shuffling and weaving and 
jerky walks, and an old man -- lank hair falling over his shoulders, 
eyes dazed, stinking of something -- shuffled through the crowd of 
reporters with a plastic cup, asking for change.

We ignored him.
- ---
MAP posted-by: Jay Bergstrom