My Husband is The Man

Friday, May 29th, 2009, marked the last day of work for John as a Deputy Federal Public Defender for the Capital Habeas Unit. I had the privilege of being invited to attend his office's surprise going-away party for him. It gave me this new perspective of appreciation, pride, and love for a man for whom I wouldn't have thought was possible to love more than I do. He'll probably be really embarrassed that I'm writing this for all to read. But that's why I'm writing it, so you'll all read it.

You know, I went to high school with this guy. We were in many of the same classes together, and I figured we must both be pretty smart since we were acing AP Calc... um, ok, correction... he was acing AP Calc, and I was... passing, sort of. But still, I don't think it hit me until he walked into Spring Play rehearsal one day, wearing his Stanford sweatshirt (that he promised himself he wouldn't wear unless he was accepted), that John is exceptional. Ever since that day, I've only come to find out more and more about the brilliant man that he is.

Maybe you know the story. John went to undergrad with the intention of studying Engineering. The major changed to math, he dabbled in computer science, but realized through that amazing experience which is college, that he cared deeply about the world and about justice. By the end of college, though his degree would say "Math," his heart was devoted to making the world a better and more just place.

So, then he went to Harvard Law School, and while most of his classmates forged full speed toward working on the best way to make the most money, to be hired by the most prestigious law firm, spending summers being courted by these firms with expensive lunches and free in-office yoga classes, and making $33,000 a summer... John did public interest jobs. He worked for the ACLU, and the DOJ, making so little he had to apply for a cost of living stipend.

But this is not a sob story, or a "look at me, look at me" plea for sympathy or a pat on the back. This story is about true appreciation where appreciation is due.

You might know that John is heading out to Washington D.C. in less than a month to clerk for Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, and you may or may not know that we're going to spend this next year long-distance, as I'll remain here in Los Angeles working my acting career. But maybe you don't know what John has been doing for the past two years.

I'm using layman's terms here, and I'm not writing this for John's lawyer friends, I'm writing this for you friends who love him and know him, but may not really know what he does. And I'm writing this for me... because I don't get to express how phenomenally proud of him I am, nearly often enough.

John's been working face to face, with people whose lives are literally in his hands. I think that for most people, Death Row is this mystical, creepy place where evil criminal minds wait for inevitable execution. For John, it became a "place" where his real clients, very real people, live, and wait, sometimes for several decades after their crime was committed, to die. And it was John's job to look these guys in the eyes, to hear their stories about everyday life, about their hopes for their own children (who they will never be with again), about their hopes for life in prison, and to do everything within his power to be that someone fighting for them, that someone on their side, to literally fight for their lives. It's a thankless job... but John did it, like he does everything in his life, wholeheartedly.

And so I knew he did all these things... and as an actor/pseudo once-upon-a-time social worker, it always impressed and awed me. But yesterday, I got to hear what John's co-workers, that is, the other people who are in the same boat, and also fighting for the same clients, had to say about John.

First of all, the room was packed. They had been planning this surprise party for several weeks. Someone said it was the fullest the room had ever been for a going away party. The room was filled not only with other Capital Habeas Unit lawyers, but with secretaries, investigators, and the tech guy. These people have a lot of work to do, but they all came out for John's surprise party because I think it was truly important to them to say goodbye and because he had truly touched their lives. After the initial shock, a very grateful John entered the room, and one of the lawyers in his office presented a beautiful "spoken letter" which I cannot justifiably paraphrase. The head of the entire office gave a speech, followed by several people in the office who had things to say. All of these notes of gratitude shared a theme: that John is not only brilliant beyond his years and experience, but that he is humble, selfless with his time and energy, and a true model for how best to serve his clients and co-workers with compassion and care. People expressed their great appreciation not only for his intellect and hard work, but for the joy, humor, and genuineness with which he worked with others.

Never really having worked in an office, I think I had a stereotype of what office parties were like: awkward, only semi-meaningful, well-intentioned but painful. But this gathering was sincere, celebratory, and loving. People hugged me hard, and told me that I was an incredibly lucky woman to be married to this wonderful, almost unbelievable man. I knew this to be true, but hearing it from people John worked with, really gave me a different perspective. That he could have this affect on co-workers... I mean, some people just go to work to make money, but John goes to work, and inspires people.

Anyway, I know my words have not expressed what I'm feeling to the fullest, but I had to at least try. I am proud of John beyond words. He is a real-life hero. I am the luckiest woman alive. My husband is the man.