There is nothing in the world like hearing the judge read "we, the jury, find the defendant, John Doe, guilty...." Non-competitive people do not become trial lawyers. I love to win. Everyone I work with loves to win. And the defense attorneys love to win. But there's a big difference in how we act when we win.
During trial, all day or all week or all month (depending on the trial) I am fighting. Constantly. Objecting, arguing, telling the story, persuading, working my butt off to win. I come home at the end of the day cramped up from forgetting to drink water and utterly exhausted from the 8-10 hour performance I just gave. And yes, it is largely performance. Always sit up straight (the jury is looking). Craft every word perfectly but react on your feet to the unexpected things that happen during trial. It's a rush and you have to love it to do it.
And when I win, I want to dance. I want to throw my fist in the air and shout "yes", applaud the jury, and take a bow. But I can't. When I win, I stand there and allow my lips the slightest upturn of a smile and put my "justice was done" face on. Because this is serious and I am the state and I must not celebrate (until I get back to my office and do my victory dance and tell everyone about my guilty verdict). It's the only ultra competitive experience I've ever had where you're completely invested, "playing" your heart out, and have to be stone-faced when you prevail.
The defense attorneys, on the other hand, get to express themselves when they win (be it ever so rare). They hug. They high five. They talk about how they just "walked" their client. They loudly congratulate themselves, each other, and their client.
Why do I have to somber when the system works? Because jurors might think I exult in another's pain? I don't. I am excited to win. I know I did my job. And I believe in my cases. I have never proceeded on a case where I didn't believe the defendant was guilty. So when I hear that "guilty" I know the system is working. With a lot of defendants I know I'm taking a threat off the streets (like the defendant with 13 DUIs). Sometimes I hope I'm telling a victim that what that person did to you is NOT ok and there are people like me who will stand up for you and hold him accountable.
And it's serious business. I'm not happy the crime occurred. But I'm damn happy that I convinced each and every juror of the defendant's guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. So I'll keep my tiny smile and my controlled facial expressions because I represent the power of the state and I don't want people to get the wrong idea. But inside I'm jumping and dancing because I fought and I prevailed for the good of the community.
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