Family Relations Court by
Alice
(Editors Note: This article is from Womankind of April 1972.
A CWLU member describes a typical session of Chicago's Family Relations
Court and how women fare in its proceedings.)
Some
marriages are said to be made in heaven. But divinely ordained or
not, when family life doesn’t work out, the people involved suffer
in very down—to—earth ways. Those who can afford it usually
buy the services of a psychiatrist or counselor to try and save the
marriage or help them adjust to its falling apart. Once it falls apart,
they can buy the services of lawyers who will battle in their behalf
for an advantageous divorce settlement.
The poor,
however, often end up in what is known as Domestic Relations Court
with a judge to rule on their dispute. When family problems get bad
enough and the family members have no other resources, the law provides
an opportunity for one partner to try to force the other to either
change, pay, or go to jail.
In Chicago,
Domestic Relations Court is on the ninth floor of the Police Headquarters
Building at 11th and State. This location is convenient for the defendants
who also happen to be prisoners in the lock—up at 11th and State.
The judge is Maurice Lee, a little old man who considers himself “very
strict.” The public defender, the lawyer assigned by the court
to people who can’t afford to hire one privately, is a sympathetic
woman. She betrays some understanding of what her defendants are up
against. “Even the nicest people, when they’re in that marriage
situation, do crazy things” she told us.
On the
Friday that we visited Domestic Relations Court, most of the defendants
were men, charged with failure to support their children. In each
case, the charges were brought as a last resort by the woman.
Despite
the hostile situation, one couple seemed almost friendly as they
stood trial, without lawyers.
Judge:
Are you two still together? No? I know you’re not married.
According
to Mother, he owed $3000 child support which he had neglected to
pay over a period of two years.
Judge
(to him): How much money do you have on you?
Him: $160.
Judge:
Give it to her.
And so
he did —— in a manner suggesting this courtroom episode
was quite familiar. They both kept their cool.
Another
couple was obviously less experienced. The woman was angry. She said, “I told him (her husband) even if it’s only five dollars,
please give it to me.” They were married with one child. He was
about to marry again but hadn’t divorced her yet ——
a divorce costs money —— nor had he guaranteed her any form
of child support. The same formula was applied.
“How
much money do you have on you?”
“$100.”
“Give
it to her.”
He seemed
annoyed, but handed over two fifty dollar bills.
In both
these cases, although the judge ruled in the woman’s favor, the
women got very little justice and very little support ——
maybe enough to postpone a visit to the welfare office another month.
Still they didn’t leave the courtroom empty—handed.
Other
women didn’t do as well. One accused husband didn’t show
up. The judge said, “I’ll issue a warrant, ma am.”
In another case, the unwed mother had the misfortune to argue against
a lawyer representing the father of her child. The father was a student,
well—dressed, and with obvious means since he could afford a
lawyer. He got off. He who can pay for it receives the most justice
of all —— seemed to be the moral of that story.
The best
lesson of the day in Domestic Court came with a case involving a
couple in their early forties. For this trial, the defendant, a man,
was brought from the lock—up in back of the courtroom. His wife had
had him arrested because she wanted him out of the house. It was not
the first time.
“What
happened since last time?” asked the judge Since last time he
was unemployed, drank, and he apparently had hit her and the kids.
“That’ll be $25 and it will be $25 every time you’
re arrested.”
Guess
who paid the $25? Yes, the same woman who had signed the complaint.
Both left in disgust.
In theory,
and to some small extent in practice, Domestic Relations Court protects
the rights of women and children. The Court may provide help in the
form of a little money for child support, or it may keep a brutal
husband away for a few months. In the long run, of course, the Court
helps neither defendant nor complainant because it cannot change
the fundamental conditions affecting their lives. It cannot even
pretend to recognize those conditions. For example, a man will be
judged equally guilty of not supporting his family when her the unemployment
rate is 3% or 30%.
For a
woman, even winning in Court is a painful and self—defeating
experience. She has had to ask contemptuous strangers, policeman and
a judge, to force an intimate relation to meet his responsibilities
or change some improper behavior. This is usually impossible for him
to do. In addition, there is the Court’s assumption about families.
A woman with children is not simply a woman with children but an incomplete
family. If she and her old man couldn’t make their family work
—— because they are personal failures, of course ——
she gets another old man, the Court. Her new family is not likely
to be a substantial improvement.
