Works in progress: Donald Colley — 'Honesty should guide the pen'

     Usually I run "Works in progress" on Saturdays, such as Lane Lubell's well-received post yesterday. But this week I got two submissions, and — my blog, my rules — decided to extend the practice to Sundays, when necessary.  Readers met Donald Colley in 2022, during the R. Kelly trial. He's been attending the court hearings of ICE sturmbannführer Gregory Bovino, and files this report:

     In court today. So too one Cmdr. Gregory Bovino, Chief of U.S. Customs and Border Patrol, present to appear before Judge Sara Ellis.
     Whether I go to court for myself or as the eyes of the public, the moment I pass thru the metal detector and retrieve my satchel with sketchbook and drawing gear, I look to be disinterested, as though I haven’t got a dog in the fight. Not so easy today. Today, I will draw and listen as the chief Federal law officer will address the questions posed by a judge concerned about tactics and practices of the Federal agents charged with apprehending undocumented immigrants and alleged criminals. Sent by the current POTUS and directed to ferret out those we’ve been told are here illegally, these Federal agents stated targets are a criminal element that took advantage of a porous border, many of whom are described by current U.S. Secretary of homeland security as the worst of the worst.
     In the weeks since September, when Cmdr. Bovino and the CBP and ICE agents under his command initiated “Operation Midway Blitz”, daily coverage by media, thousands of videos documenting citizens and residents caught up in incidents related to these maneuvers, and criticism of this Federal directive by, among others, Chicago Mayor Brandon Johnson and Illinois governor J.B. Pritzker, have caught the attention of the courts. It will be thru today’s inquiry that Judge Ellis will determine if, in the execution of “Operation Midway Blitz”, the Constitution that both she and Cmdr. Bovino are sworn to uphold, is being followed. This in a city I’ve called home for 26 ½ years.
     I find it imperative, should I feel the tug of personal interest, that I fall in line with what most of us want in a judicial system: impartiality, fairness, a high standard of practice, and an effort in earnest for veritas. So when I open my sketchbook and set pen to paper, I avoid caricature, refrain from giving added pugnaciousness or ghoulish cast. (However, if the lead lawyer has a Nixonian, bluish cast 5 o’clock shadow, so be it. Honesty should guide the pen). If I take license to hang a lantern jaw on someone, turn a slightly furrowed brow into a freshly plowed field, or grow a lawyer’s loose jacket into Emmett Kelly’s overcoat, then I come off as a clown in a forum where much is at stake for plaintiffs, defendants, and the people who care for and may depend upon them, not to mention my making light of the integrity of the institution. My brother spent some extended time incarcerated and the family pain and concern for the duration of his sentence was real. Yet another reason for veracity.
     Courtroom artists are present when Rule 53 is in effect, which forbids the presence of cameras, and sometimes all electronic media. One district attorney told me that some of the cases are enough of a circus that the inclusion of teams of photojournalists and AV equipment would only add to that. Note taken. Therefore, I work smaller than most, leaving large sketchpads and drawing boards at home. I prefer fountain pens and nonvolatile markers of various brush widths for detail and broader coverage in lieu of dusty pastels or pencils that need sharpening. At times I have been seated in the jury box, which affords a closer view of witnesses, questioning lawyer and judge. Mostly, I find myself seated among journalists, family members of plaintiffs and defendants, and interested members of the public. I call that perspective embedded, and it may have its own benefits.
     I first entered a courtroom as a 21-year-old art student whose brothers had found themselves in a fracas with music venue security guards. My sketchbook went along. The concert security guards took issue with me drawing them. I was summoned to the bench to hand the judge my sketchbook. A wide grin broke out over his court officer’s face as he recognized himself in my sketches. The book was handed back to me with the judge’s verdict, ”You’re fine. He may continue.” In the years since, my sketchbook and I have been the occasional visitors to a courtroom and it has always been engaging. I highly recommend it. We also like to go to city council meetings, and political rallies. I think of it as my continuing adult education and merger of Art, Politics and Civics lessons.