Figuring out some things somewhere in Europe
In all honesty, I was not looking forward to this trip. I had never been to Europe before this- intentionally not prioritizing whiteness and I’m genuinely more interested in cultures most different than mine (the Global South). How could I say goodbye to Kenya after having such an incredible experience and building community in a way that felt healing after a difficult 1L year? I did not want to face law school again by seeing classmates and any reminders. As an introvert, I was not looking forward to my first group trip after solo-traveling my entire life, where I would not even have a retreat in my room because there would be a roommate. However, as these things usually go, it was one of the best things that could occur for my personal and professional growth, and it was an abundant start to my career as an international human rights attorney.
Theoretical and Legal Foundations (Skip this section if you’re not a legal nerd)
Before coming on the trip, the most common critique I’ve heard about international human rights law is that it has no teeth or tools for enforcement. From the European Journal of International Law (EJIL), I surmised that this critique likely comes from the issue of jurisdiction. However, EJIL mentions that territorial jurisdiction provides an avenue for the International Criminal Court (ICC) to oversee matters based on provisions in the Rome Statute. On the other hand, when talking to a professor about the Alien Tort Statute (ATS) (used to prosecute corporations for their role in atrocities), she mentioned that jurisdictional issues are what “killed” it (makes it useless as precedent). Thus, I am left with questions about how jurisdictional issues come up in international human rights law, and how creative lawyering can overcome them.
When first talking to the professor about the ATS, my eyes lit up, because it spoke to the significance of getting out of the “Great Man Theory” framework that there is one “bad person” committing an atrocity, as opposed to a culture in a society of actors working together to create conditions for such atrocities to occur. We are doing a disservice if we focus on putting the “bad guy” in prison without focusing on systemic issues and culture that allow such an occurrence. The professor’s explanation about using ATS to address the role that corporations and capitalist culture play in mass atrocities made me feel reassured that there was a place for me and my ideas in international human rights law and law in general. The involvement of companies like IG Farben in making the gas chamber chemical used to murder Holocaust victims speaks to the importance of tools like the ATS in addressing the role that corporations play in mass atrocities. Then, as soon as the professor and I wrapped up the conversation, another professor chimed in and said, “You need to finish your law degree; it is a powerful tool.” While it may have seemed insignificant on its face, it was exactly the push I needed in that moment. It speaks to the need for settings like this trip, filled with unplanned conversations, words overheard, body language displayed, to create the serendipity I needed to keep going.
After this conversation, I was reminded of a talk I attended by Dr. Kelebogile Zvobgo on transitional justice. Before this talk, I had never heard of transitional justice, only restorative justice. Transitional justice theory inspired me because it goes beyond retribution to create a larger ecosystem, which can include restorative justice, that creates a sustainable framework for cultural and societal healing and change. Similar to ATS, it gave me a vision for where my career could live that feels true to my values as well as a platform to incorporate my identity as an artist, my skills as a social worker, and my love of culture to reimagine the legal field as a place that welcomes creative lawyering and community-led advocacy and change. They provide pathways to prevention instead of harm-reduction alone.
Expansive Conversations
With ignorance, judgment, and bias, I entered into a conversation with a classmate on the trip about what made her want to become a prosecutor. As a Black person, a social worker previously employed on a juvenile public defense team, and a staunch abolitionist, I went into the conversation and left the conversation sure that she was the ignorant one. Then, as the trip progressed, and the group had more conversations about being open, the dangers of judgment and bias, and the need to be open to other viewpoints (all qualities I incorrectly claimed to possess), I took some space to reflect on ways I could shed my black-and-white thinking about prosecution. What I came up with was that I was mistakenly, but validly, equating prosecution with sending people to prison. Prison is more harmful, does not reduce crime nor improve conditions, and research shows it does not provide a sustained sense of justice to survivors. Furthermore, the system is steeped in racism. Typically, prosecution leads to punishment, such as prison, in a problematic retributive system.
However, prosecution and prison or punishment do not need to be equated. Prosecution can be about naming the wrong so that it can be addressed and resolved in a society. Had it not been for the example that my classmates showed me in being more open, I would not have been able to reflect and learn from the aspiring prosecutor. While I am not sure if my ideas of what prosecution should be are what my classmate hopes to do with her career as a prosecutor, the experience taught me to be more open to learning from her perspective, even and especially when I disagree.
Reflections on our Debrief Lunch
Walking through Auschwitz, I felt frustrated that I did not cry and that I felt numb. I thought, “Have I really lost empathy?” “Is becoming an attorney eradicating the social worker in me?” “Am I playing Oppression Olympics?” The answer to all those questions: maybe a little. Additionally, I feel that frustration with the ongoing Palestinian Genocide, and constantly being bombarded with traumatic imagery of daily atrocities in my lifetime, make desensitization somewhat normalized. While I am incorporating practices to build back a productive level of empathy, I am also learning to appreciate a slight level of detachment because it allows me to focus on the work. Further, I am accepting that I process things by creating something from them instead of crying, and that is also ok. I paint, I write, I get involved with work that addresses the issues.
In a debrief after visiting Auschwitz, I shared my anger with the fact that Black Americans have not received reparations, a rise in social status, nor a homeland. I regret that my comments came off as centering the Black experience in this setting about the Holocaust. I resent the idea that people can only care about issues related to themselves and their own experience. I choose to believe that humans have the capacity to have empathy for people and experiences they do not share. In fact, in social work, we learn that sometimes, it is better to work in an area that is not close to home to prevent triggers, bias based on how your experience was, and rapid burnout.
The debrief we had did help me to understand some of my emotions. Generally, the experience of discussing the experience of Jewish people during and leading up to the Holocaust without context of where they are in society today, and without paralleling it to other, similar events involving people of color, felt like a slap in the face. It felt like we should all feel bad for the Jews instead of how we can use their experience as an example for other things going on in the world, and how we can understand how to support people in overcoming such an atrocity, given the social status of Jewish people in the world today.
One of my classmates said it felt like a reminder that human rights are only for some people, not “us.” This resonated with me because today, Jewish people have, within less than a century, received apologies, reparations, a homeland, earned whiteness, and have risen to one of the wealthiest groups in society. So it was difficult to feel sad for them (as it felt like the messaging was) when we know how the story ends. It would have been more impactful if we did not shy away from those truths and talked about what could have contributed to such success and how we could apply that to other groups that have been struggling for centuries.
Another classmate mentioned that we learn about the Holocaust in great detail in grade school, unlike any other atrocity. With the colonization of America, we learn that there was a feast with Native Americans instead of the genocide. With Slavery, we learn that Martin Luther King Jr. and Abraham Lincoln solved all of our problems, while the brutality and genocide of slavery are glossed over or erased. I thought the education received on the trip would be more about applying lessons from the Holocaust, not more details about what we have already learned in more detail than any other group. Especially when those other groups have not progressed much further than the status they were in immediately preceding the atrocity. As a result, I feel like I know more tragic details about a specific group, but have not gained much more knowledge about what to do with that information for groups in need.
Tangentially, the experience of learning from my classmates and them setting a positive example for me taught me the significance of traveling in a group and occasionally pushing myself to be more social in the name of personal growth. I struggled with finding community in my 1L year. This trip has helped me to develop the beginnings of community in the International Human Rights Law clinic group.
The Present and Future
The wake-up call for me on the trip was visiting the Nazi Rally Grounds. When the guide mentioned the four elements that supported Hitler’s rise, it was a clear parallel to what is occurring with Trump right now in our country.
1. A conflation or comingling of politics and church. The role that Christianity is playing in Trump’s campaign and support is disturbing in a country that is supposed to be secular.
2. Building grand structures to demonstrate power. Trump has now destroyed the East Wing of the White House to build a ballroom.
3. Propaganda and Rallies to discredit fact, science, and truth. Trump’s rallies and disregard for fact, science, and truth have killed millions of people, COVID being one example. Further, the photos of Trump’s rallies being taken in a way that makes it look like more people are in attendance than there are mimic Hitler’s photographer’s goals.
4. Cultivating a scapegoat and capitalizing on the population’s economic crisis. Trump has created a scapegoat in Black people with crime and violence leading to escaped accountability for police brutality and murder, as well as Latin Americans with “taking jobs” and “crime” leading to escaped accountability for ICE agents to murder and kidnap.
My professor mentioned that in this time of low success or political support in Human Rights structures, such as the ICC, our role as International Human Rights attorneys is to research and document so that we are ready when Human Rights structures are respected again. This excites me as an artist and a person who loves research. Art is a tool for storytelling and research is needed to construct such stories. Both are needed for creative lawyering. This feels like a place where I can succeed and be supportive in this time. It removes feelings of helplessness and hopelessness during this time.
In curiosity,
Meghan.
