Amber Baylor: Change at the Municipal Level

One of my favorite pastors is Craig Groeschel, head pastor of Life.Church. In one of his sermons, he said compassion acts. Anyone can hear a story or see injustice and feel a little compassion. But few people actually act. Attorney Amber Baylor acts. Law is not simply a business to Amber Baylor. It’s an opportunity to step in and help vulnerable people from getting steamrolled by the justice system. And it’s an opportunity to reverse injustice that has robbed people of their lives.

Her heart, principles, and sense of fairness and justice drive her, not her bank account.

Make no mistake; it’s not about being soft on crime. But justice is not dragging a man or woman who committed a crime in front of a judge so the judge can crush him or her with a punitive sentence that is so extreme and disproportionate to the crime that it serves no valid purpose. Nor is it burying people alive with life without parole (in federal court) because a defendant had to audacity to inconvenience the government by exercising their constitutional right to a jury trial.

If that were the case, we might as well tar and feather the “criminals.” Such sentences are purely punitive, not corrective. They cause incalculable harm and leave a trail of human destruction in their wake.

What’s more, it’s about examining the overwhelming evidence that unequivocally demonstrates that the existing mass punishment apparatus is fundamentally flawed and using the compelling data and invaluable insight to make changes, to improve the quality of the American justice system. Amber Baylor gets it.

I might be serving a 30-year federal prison sentence, but my hand is on the pulse of the American justice system.

I spend my days immersed in stacks of research and news articles, as well as writing legal briefs, Clemency petitions, Compassionate Release briefs, post-conviction 2255 briefs, and much more.

With that in mind, I have a dream team of extraordinary people in the business of law who swim upstream, who sacrifice, who claw tooth and nail to facilitate real justice— MiAngel Cody, Brittany K. Barnett, Jessica Jackson, Amy Povah, Kim Kardashian, Mark Osler, and Rachel Barkow. I’m now adding Amber Baylor to my dream team.

Over the past 18 months, the world has been dramatically impacted by COVID-19. Many of us have found ourselves worrying about older loved ones or those with health conditions that make them far more susceptible to the virus. While lockdowns at home are a way to keep loved ones safe, lockdowns in prison don’t have the same protective effects.

Currently, our detention system houses more than 2.3 million people. Incarcerated people aged 50 years and older make up about 16% of the state and federal prison population. These older individuals require a different level of medical care than younger incarcerated individuals because they have an increased comorbidity burden, meaning they have higher rates of chronic diseases like hypertension, diabetes, and heart disease, making them far more susceptible to getting really sick and even dying from COVID-19.

Last year, while many people were hoarding toilet paper and getting used to Zoom calls, one group of law students at Texas A&M University was working around the clock to free a 60-year-old woman from prison battling serious health issues. When COVID-19 began spreading rapidly through our nation’s prisons, this woman’s cause became even more urgent.

The Texas A&M Law Criminal Defense Clinic was started in 2017 by Amber Baylor to provide defense in Texas municipal criminal courts and advise on federal Clemency and compassionate release campaigns. Baylor and her law clinic students successfully petitioned for compassionate release on this elderly inmate’s behalf. The court granted a reduction in sentence this May, and the client was released to her family in Dallas, where she could be safe with her children and grandchildren instead of someday dying in prison.

A Two-Tier System

Much of Baylor’s work over the years has focused on providing direct representation to individuals who have been charged with low-level misdemeanors. Texas, along with several other states, does not provide counsel for offenders when no statutory jail time is attached. And that is often where the trouble begins because the consequences of pleading guilty to a misdemeanor can be severe and life-altering.

Baylor understands that the system, even in these lower courts, is unequal and stacked against poor and marginalized communities. “There is a two-tier system for people with money and people without,” she says. In her work and advocacy, Baylor has seen firsthand that people with money can easily pay fines and hire lawyers to have charges lowered or dropped. But people who cannot afford to pay fines for, say, traffic violations or public intoxication often become tragically immersed in the criminal justice system.

“If we’re talking about a jaywalking ticket that you never pay, that could lead to suspension of your driver’s license,” says Baylor. “And then you’re stopped for driving with a suspended license, and then you suddenly have another ticket. If you are a person of color, you are more likely to be stopped in general and then be financially mired by courts due to profiling. Things snowball because municipal governments rely on these types of fees and fines and then hire corporations that assist in collections that levy their own charges.”

Baylor’s clinic at Texas A&M was so successful, she opened a new Criminal Law Clinic at Columbia University, where her students represent individuals facing local criminal charges. Many of the students Baylor works with have their eyes opened during their time at the clinic. With so much of their coursework focused on federal law, this clinic provides an opportunity to see how people’s lives are thrown into chaos in these lower criminal courts.

“When you go into court in New York City, you see cross-sections of life in the city. You see Elmo from Times Square being arraigned. You see young people caught in the system. A lot of it is tragic. As one of my mentors at Neighborhood Defender Service of Harlem says, ‘There are probably few places where so much of our contemporary human experience is concentrated in one place as the criminal courts.’”

Changing the System at the Municipal Level

While many who work within the judicial system in hopes of shaping reform do so on the federal level, Baylor recognizes that the injustices start smaller and far closer to home, at the municipal level. Often, these smaller infractions and their consequences can snowball until someone becomes a bonafide victim of the system and finds themselves convicted at the federal level.

In her paper “Design Justice in Municipal Criminal Regulation,” Baylor outlines the problems she sees in municipal courts and the changes needed to make a positive and lasting impact.

There are a variety of ways people find themselves in their local municipal court. It could be a result of a traffic violation, public fight, sleeping in public, public intoxication, jaywalking, or any other small infractions. Most people headed to court don’t feel their charge will result in anything serious. After all, the worst-case scenario is that they’re found guilty and forced to pay a fine or do community service.

But what most people don’t realize is that a conviction in a municipal court can, and often does, result in a mountain of fees and implications for employment, custody, housing, and immigration status. A minor infraction can throw someone’s life into an entirely different trajectory.

And, since most states interpret the Sixth Amendment as guaranteeing counsel only to those individuals facing jail time, most regular folks in municipal court have no right to an attorney. If you can’t afford one, you go it alone, with no one to advise you on the consequences of a conviction. And since most people want the quickest, non-confrontational resolution to the whole ordeal, they’ll choose to plead guilty instead of defending themselves at trial.

And then the fees and fines start rolling in. If the individual has more than one charge, they could suddenly face fines in the thousands of dollars. And now, this court-ordered debt can impact a job hunt, housing, child custody, and much more. In fact, this debt often leads to jail time, even though the initial offense wasn’t punishable with jail time.

Baylor points out that in the lower municipal courts, as in the federal system, the consequences of a conviction can outweigh the actual sentence and expand the punishment beyond the rule makers’ intent. And all too often, the injustices come down on the poor and marginalized groups in our society.

Shifting the Conversation

In Baylor’s paper, she points out an important truth: Most insiders in the judicial system – the lawyers and judges – have no experience of jail time. It’s the people without money who are far more apt to end up in jail over minor municipal offenses.

So why is it then, when the topic of reform comes up, the municipal rule makers, those with little insight into the actual experience and consequences of jail, are invited into the conversation? Baylor asks, and rightfully so,

 “Without these insights, how can decision-makers fairly assess whether the experience of jail leads to a disproportionately punitive result for these minor crimes?”

Baylor believes there must be a space for more inclusion within the municipal criminal regulation conversation. The voices of those most affected, those who are ‘outsiders’ of the system, need to be invited to the table.

She also points out the elephant in the room: Not only do rule-makers typically have zero experience of jail time, but they and the institutions they inhabit actually benefit from the collection of fees and fines!

You may think court fees and legal fines only pay for the court’s expenses, but these fees usually contribute to other municipal budgetary needs. To add insult to injury, Baylor notes that municipal revenue is disproportionately “hoarded” by wealthier communities represented in local rulemaking processes. And as we see in federal courts time and time again, those wielding power and reaping the benefits don’t generally like changing their system.

While most municipal courts systems have implemented some form of reform efforts over the last few years (advice clinics, amnesty from warrants, online systems, etc.), hoping to accommodate vulnerable groups, Baylor insists that these efforts still miss the target because they don’t include indigent people who have been directly impacted by municipal court regulation and planning processes.

Design Justice

In her paper, Baylor introduces the concept of participatory design, which is a design strategy that prioritizes user experience. According to participatory design theory, only users and intended users can provide the history and understanding of experience, need, and future goals necessary.

Design justice, which came onto the scene at the same time as Black Lives Matter, has emerged out of participatory design as a response to many of the limitations of participatory design. In design justice, an understanding of the historically oppressive impact of a space or institution is prioritized. Baylor sees this reform strategy as a way to bring together rule makers and marginalized community members to design inclusive processes.

As Baylor states, “True design justice flips traditional insider/outsider planning participant paradigms.” Only by including underrepresented communities, those who have the most intimate knowledge of our justice systems and the problems therein, can these systems be improved.

Developing A Vision for A Better, More Equal World

When asked what initially drew her to a career in law, Baylor has said, 

“I had college experience surrounded by activism. I learned as much about power structures, protest, and advocating for inclusivity from my peers as I did in class. I saw law as a way to enhance this skill set and help me develop insights into our legal systems.”

In her brief career, Baylor has already gained deep insights into the legal system and is actively working to bring about positive changes. Through her law clinics and her work to educate on the benefits of design justice, Baylor hopes to transform how local municipalities treat people.

What is her advice to her young law students?

“There can be moments as an attorney when you become the best version of yourself. These opportunities to support people and communities developing a vision for a better, more equal world are a gift of the profession – seek them out and enjoy them!”

Growing up in Dallas, I thought heroes were Troy Aikman, Emmitt Smith, and Michael Irvin—key Dallas Cowboy players from the Cowboys’ golden era. But calling a great football player a hero strips the word of its meaning.

MiAngel Cody, Brittany K. Barnett, Jessica Jackson, Amy Povah, Kim Kardashian, Mark Osler, Rachel Barkow, and Amber Baylor are true heroes. They selflessly devote their lives to helping the helpless.

Have you ever sat isolated in a prison cell, staring at years or decades of prison time ahead of you? Probably not. It’s a helpless feeling. It’s overwhelming. People like Amber Baylor float down from heaven and give the powerless the lifeline they so badly need.

She is truly an exceptional human being.