Storybook Justice

In a stunning admission to the court, Goldilocks admitted to eating Baby Bear’s porridge, breaking his chair and then falling asleep in his bed. And in what some are calling a travesty of justice, a hung jury let her off.

Once again, the principals in a lawsuit were behaving like children.

A fourth-grade class from South Los Angeles was staging a mock trial in a downtown municipal courtroom last week as part of the judicial system’s effort to make itself less foreboding to children.

Since April, more than 80 judges and lawyers have turned courtrooms into classrooms for 1,500 elementary school students from the Jordan-Locke cluster of the Los Angeles Unified School District in the court’s First Impressions Project.

Most Los Angeles elementary schools do not cover civics until fifth grade, and many do not have enough money to sponsor field trips, so First Impressions may be the first time children come into contact with the court system.

All too often, says Deputy City Atty. Marcia Gonzales, by the time many children come in contact with the courts or law enforcement it is too late for good first impressions.

Gonzales, who led last week’s trial with students from 102nd Street Elementary School, said she got involved with the program to instill respect for the justice system.

“In all likelihood, they already have preconceived notions about the courts and police officers--’the police come and arrest people for no reason, the police come and stop people for no reason,’ ” she said. “But this program gives them another perspective.”

Earlier that morning, one of the students, 9-year-old Michael Jones, had seen police swarming outside his bedroom window at the Jordan Downs housing project in Watts, their weapons visible. Los Angeles Police Department officials confirmed that an arrest warrant was served in that area.

“Police was moving people out,” he said.

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But Michael says he likes police officers, and even borrowed Bailiff Susan Takeshita’s jacket and her handcuffs during the mock trial.

“I’m going to be a bailiff when I grow up,” he said.

First Impressions was the brainchild of the downtown Municipal Court’s assistant presiding judge, Veronica McBeth.

Last winter, she approached 17 elementary schools in southeast Los Angeles, several bar associations and the American Association of Retired Persons about participating. The result: Each week 200 elementary school students call mock courts to order downtown, arguing their cases and judging their peers in scripted trials involving such legendary suspects as the Big Bad Wolf and Goldilocks.

In the civil case of Baby Bear vs. Goldilocks, the plaintiff may have shown his true colors when he raised the wrong hand during his swearing in. Mario Miller, 8, who played Baby Bear in the mock trial, testified that he saw Goldilocks sleeping in his bed.

Defense attorney Ivan Padilla, 9, challenged him, asking: “Don’t you always forget to make your bed?” And when Baby Bear accused Goldilocks of breaking his chair, Padilla produced a furniture repair receipt indicating that the chair was already broken.

Before the children visit the Grand Avenue courthouse, lawyers go to their school and lead a two- to three-hour lesson on the court system. Once they arrive at the courthouse, courtesy of buses donated by Laidlaw Transit, retired teachers guide them on a tour of the lockup and the different offices around the building before starting the mock trial.

The fact that many of the volunteers for the program are minorities is not lost on the children. Many of them have never seen female judges, Latino lawyers or Asian bailiffs.

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After the mock trial was over, the children walked to Judge Marion Johnson’s courtroom, where a civil dispute was ending. After the lawyers left, Johnson answered questions about his years on the police force, his responsibilities as a judge and, of course, how much he makes.

“Well, it’s a matter of public record--$98,000 a year,” he said.

“Wow!” said the kids, breathlessly.

Johnson then took the children into his chambers, where he showed them his view of downtown, his law books and, most important, his electric train set.

Johnson smiled as the children crowded around. “They always love that,” he said.