June 13, 2008 10:09 AM CST by Dan Heilman Associate Editor

The black-and-white figures reflecting the $3.8 million wiped out of the public defenders’ budget are stark enough. But what makes the cuts truly disturbing is the human side of the equation — the impact not only on the lives of public-defense clients, but on the careers of idealistic young attorneys who chose to do public-defense work because they sincerely wanted to help people.

“I’m heartbroken about it,” said Dakota County public defender Catherine L. Turner, whose layoff, along with those of 22 of her colleagues, takes effect July 22. “It’s kind of the end of the dream.”

Public defenders interviewed by Minnesota Lawyer displayed feelings of bewilderment and bitterness about the shortfall, which led to the elimination of the equivalent of 53 full-time public-defender posts statewide.

“I’m pretty mad,” said Rebecca Waxse, a two-year veteran of the Anoka County Public Defender’s Office who will also be laid off in July. “I don’t think the legislators had any concept of the effect this is going to have.”

Because she works part time, Waxse said she now spends as much time as possible working out of her own office. “I try to stay out of the [Anoka County] office,” she said. “It’s pretty depressing.”

Left behind

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Among other measures, the cuts mean that the state’s public defenders will be unable to accept any new nonmandated cases after July 8, including the representation of parents in child protection and termination-of-parental-rights cases. (Those cases will still be heard in Hennepin County.)

Waxse said that portion of the cut could have an especially devastating effect.

“Child protection is one of the most emotional areas of the law,” she said. “You’re taking kids away from parents. I have clients tell me all the time, ‘You’re the only one who tells me the truth.’ I don’t know what’s going to happen to them.”

Turner agreed that clients will be the ones left especially high and dry by the cuts, as cases are shuffled around between the remaining public defenders, who are already overworked.

“The clients we get are in a desperate situation, or they made a bad decision,” she said. “I can make a difference in someone’s life, and it’s rewarding. But the criminal justice system can’t function without adequate representation for people unable to pay for it.”

Because of the budget cut, “a lot of people are being left behind, and not just the people losing their jobs,” she continued. “You just don’t get the same representation from an attorney who is carrying 100 cases that you would from one with 40 cases.”

Turner predicted that it will eventually become clear that Minnesota’s judicial system can’t function properly without a sufficient supply of public defenders. The remaining defenders are going to have to ask for an increased number of continuances and swollen caseloads will be handled less efficiently, developments that are bound to get the attention of both the bench and the public at large.

“Six months from now, I have a feeling that judges will be screaming about this,” she said. “When the courts are backed up and the number of pro se litigants is through the roof, this won’t just be our problem.”

Taking one for the team

The budget crisis has led to a surprising scenario in which a number of public defenders are temporarily sacrificing their jobs so that others can keep theirs. Thanks to attorneys willing to take year-long leaves of absence — keeping their health-care benefits, but drawing no salary — a number of public defenders with low seniority will be able to hang on to their jobs, at least temporarily, when they otherwise would have gotten let go.

Voluntary separation, salary savings and early retirement changes have been able to translate into 23 actual layoffs instead of the projected 53, according to State Public Defender John Stuart and Board of Public Defense chief administrator Kevin Kajer.

One of those volunteering to take a year away from work is state assistant public defender Sean McGuire, a five-year veteran of the office’s appellate division. He said his office was due for four layoffs, but “we had a lot of people step up and take leave.

“Our office is still going to be down the equivalent of those attorneys, because many of us won’t be working for an extended period of time,” he said. “But at least those people will still have their jobs, and in a year we’ll see about those of us taking leave.”

McGuire said he’s fortunate that his family’s financial situation is such that he can afford to take the time away, and he hopes to take the opportunity to travel and do some pro bono work. He’s spoken with some of the less-senior attorneys in his office, and they understand that in a year, he might reclaim his job, thus forcing one of them out.

He said he feels that the attorneys pulled together to save as many jobs as they could because they understood that the more public defenders who got laid off, the harder it would be for public defense offices to get back on solid ground when those positions were re-filled.

“What we do is kind of a specialty,” he said. “If we lost those public defenders, there’s no promising that we could get them back once the budget was fixed, and there’s no promising that the people we got to replace them would be as good.”

Where to go from here?

For the public defenders being let go, the development presents a chance to steer their careers in another direction — whether they want to or not. Because she’s a part-time public defender, Waxse also has a modest portfolio of private clients that she hopes to expand. Turner plans to look for work in a firm specializing in criminal defense, or perhaps hang out her own shingle.

“I can take unemployment benefits for a while, but I still have a mortgage payment to make,” she said. “I love my job — I’m in court almost every day, and I enjoy every part of it. And I’d like to dedicate my career to public service, but there are no jobs in public service. Everything got cut.”

Michael Berger, an assistant public defender in the 10th District, was one of two public defenders laid off from the district’s Cambridge office, the other being fellow assistant public defender Michelle Overby.

Berger only graduated from law school last year, so he’s not as attached to his work as some others being cut loose. But he’s still not looking forward to embarking on a job search — especially since his home computer crashed soon after he learned of his fate, requiring him to piece together his resume from scratch.

Overby’s salary was the sole means of support for her and her domestic partner, so she doesn’t really have the resources to build a private practice from the ground up.

“My resume reads ‘public-sector exclusive’ for the last 8-10 years, so I am ideally qualified for a job in the public sector,” she said. “I am most concerned that my dedication to the public sector will now be my downfall.”

While many public defenders find themselves in a similar fix, Berger says the recent developments might lead to an opportunity he would have otherwise missed. He also said that his departing colleagues should hold their heads high as they continue their work elsewhere.

“It’s not as if any of us did anything wrong. It’s just a matter of circumstance,” Berger said. With a laugh, he added, “And the thing is, I was initially attracted to public-sector work because of the stability.”