Shining a light in the darkness
COURT reporting can be a grim business.
It exposes journalists to the darkest side of human nature, and often a big part of the job is to sit through the horror stories and winnow them into palatable news reports that inform the public while sparing readers the gorier details.
You have to have pretty thick skin and, after a few years covering the NT courts, there’s not much that still cuts through.
If you took on all the pain and human suffering laid bare in courtrooms each day you wouldn’t last a week.
But there’s another side to court reporting. It’s there in the Coroner’s
Court when judge Greg Cavanagh asks counsel assisting to read from the deceased’s birth certificate as a formal and “moving” acknowledgment of a life lived.
And it was there in the Youth Justice Court when prosecutor Perian Cardiff read from a victim impact statement written by the partner of Jo Neyens, who was tragically killed when a 17-year-old girl took her eyes off the road and crashed on Tiger Brennan Drive in February.
Andrew Goldsworthy’s words were both heartbreaking and magnanimous, grieving for the woman he loved as though the couple were “sharing the same soul”, while at the same time urging the offender to make the most of her own young life “to become the best possible version of you”.
“We all wish that you respect and honour the memory of Jo — a wonderful, amazing person you almost met,” he said.
“I want you to give back for what Jo is no longer able to do. I want you to be a positive contributor to society. I want you to find your passion and volunteer, contribute, be present.”
Addressing the young woman directly after the lawyers had had their say, even seasoned Local Court judge Elisabeth Armitage couldn’t hide her emotion.
“It’s a huge loss for her to have died on the road that day. She was a good person and the family miss her terribly, and will miss her for the rest of their lives, but it sounds like they’re good people too, and they don’t want her death to be for nothing, they want her death to (encourage), I think, everybody who knew her to give more and do more,” she said.
“It’s hard to live up to, and you don’t have to live up to that every day of your life, but they want to encourage you to move forward and to be productive and to be well and to contribute in the ways that you can and that are meaningful for you.”
The youth court isn’t often covered in the news, for various reasons, but what’s perhaps more surprising is that for a while, there was a chance the important and moving words you’ve just read would not have been able to be reported at all.
They were said in a closed court, meaning only people specifically listed in the Youth Justice Act were able to attend.
The only reason you’re reading them now is an amendment passed last year that added “a genuine representative of the news media” to that list.
All too often youths caught up in the criminal justice system are demonised by those like former Chief Minister Adam Giles, who would see “bad criminals” thrown in a “big concrete hole”.
When all you see is the offence and its consequences, these attitudes are easy to understand. The impact of criminal offending by youths can be devastating, whether it ends in tragedy or leaves victims feeling unsafe in their own homes.
Those who argued journalists couldn’t be trusted to report on youth court matters did so in the name of protecting them from harm. But the real harm, to them and the community, comes when the public is deprived of the full story.
How many would have argued this young woman deserved the “concrete hole” before learning prosecutors accepted the trace amount of cannabis in her system didn’t contribute to the crash and, after hearing the words of the grieving family, did not oppose her meeting with them as part of the healing process?
As Ms Armitage told the teenager who caused the crash she’d be adjourning the hearing so conferencing with the victim’s family could be arranged, the teenager apologised as she began to sob.
“No, that’s OK,” Ms Armitage said, “I’m crying too.” And she was.
I nearly did too.