Last Friday I became the newest member of the Stillaguamish Indian Tribal Bar! It's my first real legal practice qualification - I'm pretty excited about it.
Indian court is really different, especially in a tribe as small as the Stillaguamish. It’s very informal in some ways, but not lackadaisical. It doesn’t really look like a courtroom. There’s no real “bench,” just two long table put together like a big “T” with the judge sitting in the middle of the top crossbar and the two opposing sides sitting along each side of the stem. The mis-matched folding chairs in the back add to the feel.
It’s also one of the least Indian Indian tribes I’ve ever seen. The Judge is Jewish, and I think he comes up once a week to hold court. There were only two or three people I saw that morning who looked vaguely Indian. It makes sense, though – the Stillaguamish tribe as it exists today is essentially the descendants of a single woman.
(By the way, I call them “Indians” on purpose, because that’s what they call themselves. I hate the term “Native American.” It’s less descriptive and less accurate than “Indian,” and exists solely to make soft headed white liberals feel smug for using it and to keep activists who profit from propagating racial politics employed.)
Regular state law doesn’t apply there, either. In this small area of a few dozen acres, there is an entirely separate tribal code of laws that I had to read before I could be admitted to their bar. Federal law applies in some ways, but it’s (in theory, at least) a separate sovereign nation. There are no rules of evidence, for example – basically anything the judge wants to hear goes.
But the people were all very nice and helpful, especially as I showed up early ad was wandering around not really looking like I knew what was going on. Thanks to them, I was able to get the updated code read and get sworn in that day as an Indian Advocate (which is what they’ll call me until I actually become a real lawyer, even though there’s no actual difference in what I can do there).
That morning I got called in to the judges chambers on one of the cases. One of the partners at the firm I work for came up (she’s not admitted to the Stillaguamish bar) just to observe, and make sure I was doing OK. She tried to follow me into the chambers, and the court marshal kicked her out! When she explained that I was her intern, he just told her, “well, this is our court, and he’s a member of our bar – he’s good to go.” Knowing that particular partner, who’s loud and tough and doesn’t take crap from anyone, that was just damn funny.
I had two cases and they both went well. I didn’t get everything we wanted, but that’s the way it goes in family court anywhere – you don’t “win” or “lose” in most cases. But I was able to hold my own, and protect my client from shenanigans coming from the other side, and so I felt good that I’ll be able to no-kidding do this some day for a living.
Love, Dad
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