My Last Thought Before the Trial BeginsRemember love, and no cage can stop you from being free.
Trial begins in just three days, in the criminal case that could change my life forever. And the last two weeks have been a hurricane. The judge ruled that the jurors would be anonymous, an unprecedented decision which would make the defendants look dangerous — anonymous juries are rare and typically reserved only for violent, organized crime cases — and would make it difficult for us to determine whether any of them might be biased, as we will not be able to do any juror research. Then a decorum order was issued just a few days later indicating that the jury would not, in fact, be entirely anonymous, but that only a small handful of people would have access to their names. We were just given their names — but their last names were all missing. We have yet to figure out whether this apparent error will be corrected. With 3 days remaining, the jurors will remain effectively anonymously, even with respect to the defendants they could be sending to prison. The prosecution moved just a few moments ago, moreover, to exclude, not just evidence of animal cruelty, but a large number of our proposed exhibits — i.e., photos and videos of Lily and Lizzie — depicting the condition (and therefore the commercial value) of the piglets at issue in the farm. They offered no argument for their objection to the exhibits, beyond the idea that these exhibits might prove the “legal necessity” of our actions. Because the judge has already ruled that necessity will not be presented at this trial, the prosecution apparently wants even footage of the two specific piglets excluded at trial. The judge has yet to rule on this motion. Finally, there has been a back and forth battle over so-called “jury instructions,” i.e., the legal instructions given to the jury that explain what factual findings they must make in order to convict Paul and I of a crime. The prosecution is alleging that Paul and I can be found guilty under a theory of “accomplice liability” — essentially, that we can be held liable for the actions of other members of the DxE team — but they did not give us notice that they planned to use this theory. We will argue that this last minute change to their theory is inappropriate and unlawful, as a defense team can only prepare for charges as they are filed. I have been knee deep in these arguments — along with preparing our witnesses for this trial — but I have also had some moments to reflect, and think a bit more about what I think people should know about this trial, and perhaps about me, too. And perhaps the most important thing I hope people realize — and that I hope you can amplify when you talk to people about this case — is that this trial is not about burglary but about love. A Salt Lake City Tribune reporter interviewed me yesterday, and asked me how my life went down this unusual path. And I told him that I don’t think I’m that unusual, except for one thing: I really, really love dogs. When I was a child, my dog Vivian gave me comfort when I came home, crying, from the meanness of bullies. When I was a young adult, my dog Lisa gave me a reason to keep fighting, when the world felt completely empty and dark. And my newest dog Oliver, rescued from a dog meat farm just weeks before the Yulin Dog Meat Festival in the summer of 2016, reminds me every day, with his joy and resilience after facing unspeakable cruelty, that this is a world in which miracles can happen. I have loved each of these dogs as much as anyone in my life. I would like to think I would defend them with my life. But I know that each of the piglets at Smithfield is an equally sentient, equally conscious being. And while I do not know them, individually, in the way I know my dogs. I know they are equally deserving of love. All living beings are. And that is why we must defend them. We, as animal activists, do what we do for love.
There are times when this feeling, of love and connection to all living beings, is so powerful that it overwhelms. It’s because there’s something so bright and beautiful in every sentient being, at least when you look more closely. I saw that beauty in Lizzie, when she found softness for the first time, and delighted in how it felt against her body and her skin. I saw it in Lily, when she crawled up onto my chest. And when you see such beauty in life, it’s impossible not to cherish it. To protect it. To see it acknowledged and fulfilled. I was speaking this last weekend with a friend and supporter who gave me this advice, for how to approach potential incarceration: Remember the state Lily and Lizzie were in, when they were rescued. Remember how much their life has changed, now that they live in a beautiful grassy field, rather than a factory farm crate. Remember that feeling that came over you, when you saw them happy and running in a grassy field. Remember love, and no cage can stop you from being free. That is what will be on mind as I go to trial. — A few other updates:
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