A Day of Observation in Judicial Court- Part 2: Inmates Day in Court

Judge Case began with the inmate cases, likely to ensure they return to the county jail as quickly as possible for security reasons. Two security officers stood between her and the defendants at all times, with more guards appearing when needed.

Signs plastered the walls with reminders that contact or interactions of any kind with inmates are prohibited, regardless of their relation to those in the seats. The inmates wore orange jumpsuits with the letters VCDC (Volusia County Division of Corrections) on the back with black belts that clipped to their handcuffs, keeping their hands below their stomachs and further limiting their range of motion. Inmates filed in and out of the side door to the left of the defense once their next court appearance was set, and were transported back to the county jail from there. 

Most of the public defense cases we witnessed (roughly half of which were inmates) involved people arriving at the stand, setting a date for their next appearance, and leaving. One inmate waived his right to an attorney and opted to represent himself. Inmates who accepted a plea deal during this court session were pulled to the side to have their fingerprints documented. In one instance where this occurred, the inmate pleaded “Nolo Contendere,” which loosely translates to “I don’t want to argue,” or in legal terms, neither guilty nor innocent. This doesn’t change the punishment or charges associated with an action, but is a way for the defendant to accept the consequences without admitting or denying responsibility. 

Only four inmates are allowed in the courtroom at a time, though we witnessed one exception to this consistent practice. A fifth inmate was brought in through the side door by two officers, who motioned him into a seat separate from the others. This separation clued us into the looming threat most inmates fear: capital punishment, commonly known as the death penalty. Florida is one of 27 U.S. states that utilize capital punishment and continue to execute prisoners on death row, where they’re held until the execution date (Death Penalty Information Center, 2025). Only capital offenses such as treason, genocide, murder, or the kidnapping and killing of any government official, constitute the death penalty (U.S. Dept. of Justice, 2023). It’s a looming shadow that promises death for those who are found guilty. It marks men and sucks the air from the room. Judge Case addressed this inmate the same as all the others, noting that because capital punishment was involved, the court process needed to move faster to uphold his right to a speedy trial. The prosecution and defense swapped information, and the inmate was escorted from the room with more officers at his back than any of the other inmates. 

The youngest inmate, only 22, was eligible for a minimum of 15 years and a maximum of 108 years in prison for multiple charges of grand theft auto and burglary of an unoccupied residence. He had a history of childhood abuse at the hands of his mother, who was on the child abuse registry. His case involved a plea deal, which is a compromise between the defense and prosecution that allows the criminal justice system to save resources on a criminal trial and jury assembly while still eliciting a guilty confession from the defendant (Legal Information Institute, n.d). The defendant benefits by receiving a more lenient sentence than what would likely result from a criminal trial. In essence, it’s a contracted compromise that benefits all parties if an agreement can be reached. If the defendant violates the stipulations of the plea deal, they lose all benefits and face trial (Legal Information Institute, n.d).

Due to the possibility of evidence being withheld, the defense was hesitant to accept the prosecution’s nine-year plea deal. The defense attorney countered with seven years, but the prosecutor refused, adding that his deal would expire after today, regardless of the potential withheld evidence. Judge Case asked the prosecutor if he would consider seven years with two additional years of probation, but he refused, citing a prior probation violation as justification. At the end of the hearing, when the judge left, and Chris and I were the only ones left in the stand, the defense attorney approached the prosecution and said, “He’s 22 years old. He’s been beaten to shit by his mother his whole life. Give him a chance!” It’s relevant to note that although the defense and prosecution are in opposition, the public defenders work on the same floor across the hallway from the prosecutors. Their open discussions and post-court conversations are normal because, in a sense, they’re colleagues.