Ross Goldstein
Sahar* is a young woman from Iran with three children who separated from her husband after a long history of terrible physical abuse. After he refused to provide any support to his family, Sahar lost her home and was forced to move from shelter to shelter with her children. In desperation, one of Sahar’s children suggested that they see their father to plead for help. When they got there, he choked Sahar and threw her up against the wall, forcing her to flee. After Sahar left, her husband set a small fire in his own apartment, and then called the police and fire department. He told them that Sahar had set the fire before she left. Sahar was promptly arrested, charged with arson, burglary, assault, and child endangerment, and separated from her children during the 12 days she was held in jail.
In May 2006, Sahar came to Tahirih seeking a protective order from her abusive husband. During our interview, we discovered that Sahar pled guilty to the crimes she had been falsely accused of. At the criminal proceeding, Sahar was represented by her husband’s divorce attorney who advised Sahar to accept the plea bargain offered, suggesting either her husband would lie on the stand or she might go to jail for lying to the police. For Sahar, the implications of pleading guilty to crimes she did not commit were grave; the result was that her immigration status and ability to keep custody of her children were called into question.
After a difficult search to find a pro bono attorney to take the complex case, Tahirih reached out to Arnold and Porter, committed supporters of Tahirih’s work. Randy Miller and Ross Goldstein took immediate interest in the case and Ross arranged a meeting with Sahar within a few days.
I first learned about the Tahirih Justice Center Pro Bono Attorney Program during the Nataliya Fox case. I had been working with David Orta on another matter, and he had mentioned he had this “mail-order bride” case that he was working on. I expressed interest, and the next thing I knew, I was working with him and Randy on the case. I’ve been involved with Tahirih in one way or another ever since.
The one thing that stood out most when I agreed to represent Sahar was her original attorney. Her attorney had a horrible conflict of interest in the case, which someone in Sahar’s position would not have known. The case was an opportunity to really get my hands dirty. Once we managed the incredible feat of getting the conviction and guilty plea set aside, we had to craft a defense from scratch—visiting the scene, talking to witnesses, and developing experts.
Perhaps the biggest impact the case had on me on a professional level was that I really understood how important it is to have resources in order to mount a successful defense. Fortunately, we were able to expend a lot of money and time on her behalf to fight the power of the state. I shudder when I realize how many other people are in Sahar’s position, being charged with a crime that they did not commit, unable to help themselves navigate a confusing legal landscape, and are unable (for any number of reasons) to access the resources that could help them. It is just horribly unfair, and that is something that, as an attorney, I will never forget.
As for me personally, the thing I will never ever forget is the moment when I walked up to Sahar on the day of trial. An hour earlier, she had courageously rejected the Commonwealth’s generous plea offer, choosing instead to put her faith in our team at trial. I gave her the news that the Commonwealth had decided to dismiss the case rather than go to trial. When I walked up to her, she looked at me with real fear and trepidation in her eyes, and I told her, “You win.” It took a second for it to register, but then she leapt to her feet, hugged me and wept for several minutes. I looked down and saw her nine-year-old daughter, who had been facing the prospect of having to testify on her mother’s behalf, latch on to Sahar’s legs and smile a genuine smile for the first time in the months that I had known her. There is simply no greater feeling as a human being, let alone as an attorney.
*Name has been changed to protect privacy.
