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Dear Diary:October 11th

I am beginning to understand what it is like to be held in prison. One with walls and steel bars or, one like mine. There are no bars on the windows, but some locks are invisible and just as strong.

Ever since my attempt at suicide, my helicopter mother has gotten worse. She feels guilty, I think. If she does, it is the first time I can think of where she has shown any interest in anyone other than herself.

I don’t know how, but someone will have found out about my suicide attempt. I’m not sure I care. They will also know about my gender dysphoria surgery. I must admit, I’m more than a little interested to find out how they react to that.

Worse than school starting, which I don’t care about, Marc’s hearing is this Thursday. I am really worried about this. I caused it, he did not. Mother Dear won’t listen. She knows it’s not his fault; he did nothing wrong. But she is being a vindictive bitch (I looked the word vindictive up, Dear Diary, because that is who she is. )

Mother Dear has absolutely forbidden me from testifying. I don’t know what to do.

“Marc, we’ll be fine. I told you; I can’t remember how many of these hearings I’ve done. On both sides and in the middle. Yours is a pretty flimsy complaint.”

The three of them, Marc, Professor Seymour and Connie Mickelson, were in a conference room. Connie came along because she had, at one time, a brief, but intimate relationship with one of the hearing’s officers. He was married at the time. Connie swears she broke it off as soon as she found out. It was Connie’s plan to help Marc by spending the entire time during the hearing staring at him as a reminder.

“Easy for you to say, it’s not your license on the line,” Marc said.

There was a knock on the door. A deputy sheriff stuck her head in to let them know it was time.

In the hall walking toward the same hearing room was Priscilla and a woman with a briefcase. Seeing Priscilla, Marc almost sprinted to the door to open it for them.

“Good morning, Priscilla,” Marc said as she walked past.

“Go to hell,” Priscilla snarled.

Priscilla’s lawyer, bringing up the rear behind Priscilla, having heard the exchange, tried not to laugh.

“You must be Marc Kadella,” the woman said to Marc with an outstretched hand.

“I must be,” Marc replied.

She was barely five feet tall and heavyset. Her hair was a grayish brown, wearing a pair of cheaters on a chain around her neck. They shook hands then Marc continued to hold the door for Connie and Hyam Seymour.

The three member hearing panel was already present. The panel was made up of two lawyers and one non-lawyer layman. The purpose is to determine if there is probable cause for public discipline. If probable cause is found, the panel petitions the Minnesota Supreme Court .

The Supreme Court then assigns a district court judge to act as referee and conduct a trial. The referee then issues findings to the Supreme Court along with a recommendation for discipline.

“She’s an attorney malpractice lawyer,” Professor Seymour whispered to both Marc and Connie.

“She wants to get a finding here in favor of Priscilla so she can sue me,” Marc whispered back.

“Exactly,” Seymour replied.

“What’s her name?” Connie asked.

“Naomi Rubin, and she’s good at what she does,” Hyam replied.

The court reporter indicated she was ready and the proceedings began.

The panel was made up of two women and one man. One of the women, Gwen Oster, was the nonlawyer. The other woman by her name plate was Melissa Lundquist. She was also the chairperson. The third was a man, a lawyer whose name was George Taylor. George was the married man for whom Connie was a previous paramour.

“Okay, let’s get started,” Lundquist said. “Beginning with the complainant, please give your name, spelling your last name for the record.”

Priscilla started off and when they were done giving their names, Lundquist started again.

“To be sure we understand this,” she said looking at Priscilla and her lawyer, “you are the mother of Mr. Kadella’s client. Is that correct, Mrs. Craig-Powell?

“Yes, that’s correct,” Priscilla’s lawyer answered for her.

“And your daughter, Roberta Craig-Powell, is going through gender transformation from male to female?”

“She has completed the process including the surgery,” Rubin again answered for Priscilla.

“Your former son, now daughter, Roberta, where is she today?”

“She is sick, your Honor,” Priscilla said. “It was my decision, as her mother, that she stay home. ”

“We are not judges. There is no need to use your Honor. Our names are in front of us,” Lundquist said pointing at the name plates.

“George, go ahead.”

“Your primary complaints are twofold. Mr. Kadella, in the course of representing Roberta, acted in a manner that was detrimental to his client during a criminal defense of your daughter…”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Priscilla said.

“…and afterward tried to solicit your daughter for a medical malpractice lawsuit related to her transgender surgery. And he also tried to convince her to sue you personally. In fact, you claim he continually harassed Roberta after she turned him down and after you insisted that he leave her alone.”

“Yes, that is also true,” Priscilla said.

“Starting with the criminal assault case,” George continued, “I’m a little confused. According to the rebuttal that Mr. Kadella presented, he convinced the court and county attorney that it was a clear case of self-defense. They, the court and county attorney, agreed to dismiss and expunge the charges which occurred at the first appearance. It sounds like Mr. Kadella did an excellent job on the criminal case.

“Again, according to the Respondent, your complaint seems to be he acted as your daughter’s lawyer and refused to make you, Mrs. Craig-Powell, part of the defense team. Ms. Rubin, bearing in mind that we have read your complaint, and don’t need it restated, if you have something to add, go ahead.”

Priscilla’s lawyer stood and did what ninety percent of lawyers do. Despite being told not to do it, she spent almost fifteen minutes restating the facts which came down to Marc not letting Priscilla run Roberta’s defense.

When she finished, George Taylor said, “So, you did not have anything new to add.”

At that moment there was the sound of loud voices at the door. Everyone turned to find the deputy sheriff guard come in. She walked up to the bench and spoke in a whisper to the chairperson, Melissa Lundquist.

“Yes, bring her in,” Lundquist told the deputy .

A moment later, escorted by the deputy, Robbie Craig-Powell came into the hearing room.

“Young lady,” Lundquist said looking at Robbie, “Please come forward and stand right here,” she said pointing to a spot where Robbie should stand directly in front of the panel.

When Robbie was ready, Melissa said, “Please state your name for the record.”

Robbie did that and then, with a smug smart-ass look, she turned to Priscilla and said, “Hi Mom, are you glad to see me?”

If looks could kill, the beam that would be coming out of Priscilla’s eyes would have melted Robbie. This did not go unnoticed by the panel members.

“Do you know why we are here?” Melissa asked Robbie.

“Yes, ma’am I do. Would it be okay if I read something I wrote about Mr. Kadella?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Robbie removed several sheets of paper from her purse, unfolded them and began reading.

“Marc Kadella is a great lawyer. If I ever need a lawyer again, he will be the first one I call.

“I had a fight with a student at school, a bully who …”

Robbie went on to read the entire story. Including how Marc was concerned about him going through the gender transformation. She laid it all out, truthfully.

When she finished, Melissa asked, “Your testimony is that Mr. Kadella did not solicit you for a medical malpractice case or to bring a suit against your mother.”

“No ma’am. That was totally my idea. Like I said, I called him and asked him about it. He told me he doesn’t do those cases. He got me in touch with a woman at a different law firm. She got the information and they decided not to take my case.

“Mr. Kadella called me while I was in the car with my mother. She overheard it and got angry. She wanted to know why he called but I would not tell her right away. The things she says in her complaint are not true. I was his client and Mr. Kadella would not let her butt in because of the attorney-client thing.”

“Do you have anything else?” Lundquist asked Robbie.

“No, ma’am,” Robbie answered .

“Do either of you have any questions?” Lundquist asked the other two panel members.

They both answered negatively.

“Please take a seat against the wall. Thank you for your input,” Lundquist told Robbie.

“Professor Seymour?” Melissa said, looking at Marc’s lawyer.

“Do I really have to ask? This travesty screams out for dismissal and attorney fees and costs,” Seymour said.

“Vote?” Melissa asked.

“Dismiss without a finding of probable cause,” George Taylor said.

“Agreed,” Gwen Oster said.

“I’ll make it unanimous. We will recommend the complaint be dismissed and expunged.

“As you know, Professor, we can only make a recommendation to the Supreme Court. We have no authority to order fees and costs. However, if you would like to submit an affidavit of fees and costs, we will include that with our recommendation that they be paid by the complainant.”

Before anyone else could speak, a furious Priscilla was out of her chair. She almost ran to the door then crashed through it. She also managed to leave Robbie behind.