A CMN Intern’s Account of Pitchford v. Cain

Lydia Marti

Lydia Marti is a senior at Luther College studying Social Work with a minor in French. Growing up near St. Louis, Missouri, Lydia has developed a longstanding passion for social…
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Early one Tuesday morning, I sat outside the United States Supreme Court watching the sunrise and praying for the chance to be invited into the highest court in the nation. Twenty-five of us sat on the curb clutching warm coffees and making casual conversations in an attempt to keep each other awake. The majority of those in attendance were law students who traveled all the way from Mississippi to witness the oral argument for Pitchford v. Cain. The goal of the case was to determine if the Mississippi Supreme Court unreasonably determined if death row inmate, Terry Pitchford, had waived his right to rebut the prosecutor’s race-neutral reasons for exercising preliminary strikes against black jurors.

Sitting outside the Supreme Court, I became highly aware of the disregard for the case’s relationship to the death penalty. Conversations with my fellow line members often centered around the systemic racism built into our criminal justice system, yet very few were willing to extend that conversation to the world of capital punishment. It was almost as if the topic of race was safer than capital punishment. Despite being surrounded by future and practicing lawyers, it became clear that few of them had taken the time to really grapple with the ethical questions surrounding capital punishment — a struggle I have become quite familiar with over my two months interning with Catholic Mobilizing Network. The reluctance to confront the case’s core issue persisted, even carrying into the formal hearing.

After three hours of standing in line, I was blessed with the final ticket to enter the court room. Walking into the marble court room, I was awe-struck by the grandeur of the space. Everything about the room, from the red curtains to the people, felt powerful — like the personification of purpose. The justices took turns questioning the councils, pointing out the flaws of each side. Once the shock of just being in the courtroom had subdued, I began to notice similar patterns to the conversations I had in line. In fact, there was a clear divide amongst the justices with the majority focusing their questions on the conduct of the legal counsel and the racial undertones of its actions. Yet, a very select few, three to be exact, made conscious efforts to acknowledge the irreversible reality that this case is rooted in capital punishment. With each mention of the death penalty there was an almost palatable heaviness in the air — an uncomfortable silence like the entire court was worried that acknowledging it would awaken some uncontrollable evil.

As a social work student, I have been conditioned to embrace uncomfortable silence and I found myself doing just that from my small seat in the back of the courtroom. I began taking mental note of the posture shifts within the crowd, the pace at which questions were redirected away from conversations around capital punishment, and the heaviness with which the phrase “death sentence” was articulated. With each observation I began to realize the power of lower profile cases such as this.

On the surface, Pitchford v. Cain looks like a question of appropriate legal practice and racial biases within criminal court; yet I realized the case had the potential to be so much more. It had the potential to open a greater conversation about the ethics of our current criminal justice system. The case invites the nation to reflect on our unwillingness to question the immorality of capital punishment — to challenge our blind acceptance of institutional racism and the irreversible impact it can have on someone’s life.

Sitting in that small seat in the back of the United States Supreme Court, I left with far more questions than answers; and I believe that is exactly the point. Pitchford v. Cain forced me to confront the ways in which our legal system mirrors the broader culture: both are far more comfortable addressing procedural injustice than interrogating the moral foundations those procedures rest upon. The collective discomfort I witnessed was not simply a reluctance to discuss capital punishment, it was a reflection of a society still unwilling to reckon with the truth that a system rooted in racial bias cannot deliver justice.

Learn more about the impact of racism on the criminal legal system: