Students gain insight into inner workings of the judicial system

Calls for all to unite in ‘one strong fist,’ punish ‘mad regime’

Four Anne Arundel County high school students were pulled over Thursday after driving recklessly through a neighborhood.

This was no police encounter, however. The car was imaginary, just four seats in an Annapolis courtroom.

When an Anne Arundel police officer called for backup, an “ooo” sound carried across the packed courtroom, the same sound students might make when someone is called into the principal’s office. As police escalated their response, calling for a K-9 unit and detaining the four students, the sound crescendoed until peaking when the dog sniffed out a red backpack under a seat. Inside were three bags of drugs, a firearm and three T-shirts, one for each high school attending Thursday’s field trip: Broadneck, Meade and Glen Burnie.

The students were handcuffed and taken to a back room. Only one asked to speak to their attorney —

Students from several Anne Arundel County high schools visited Courtroom 1 in the District Court of Anne Arundel County this morning. Here, they observe as a K-9 officer does a demonstration with his search dog.

Anne Arundel District Administrative Judge Shaem Spencer said it was the best thing they could have done. When they returned, they were still in handcuffs, this time sporting orange, green and striped jumpsuits. If this scenario had played out in real life, Spencer said the court’s schedule ahead of the Presidents Day holiday weekend would mean those students would have to stay in jail, most likely without bail, for at least five days before seeing a judge.

The Maryland Judiciary has brought the court system to high

The widow of Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny vowed Monday to continue his fight against the Kremlin, while authorities denied his mother access to a morgue where his body is believed to be held after his death last week in an Arctic penal colony.

With her voice cracking at times in a video posted on social media, Yulia Navalnaya accused Russian President Vladimir Putin of killing her husband in the remote prison and alleged that officials’ refusal to hand over the body to her mother-in-law was part of a cover-up.

Russian authorities said that the cause of Navalny’s death Friday at age 47 is still unknown — and the results of any investigation are likely to be questioned abroad.

Many Western leaders have already said they hold Putin responsible for the death.

Navalny’s death has deprived the Russian opposition of its most well-known and inspiring politician less than a month before an election that is all but certain to give Putin another six years in power. It dealt a devastating blow to many Russians, who had seen Navalny as a rare hope for political change amid Putin’s unrelenting crackdown on the opposition.

Navalny had been imprisoned since January 2021, when he returned to Moscow after recuperating in Germany from a nerve agent poisoning that he blamed on the Kremlin. He received three prison terms since his arrest, on a number of charges he has rejected as politically motivated.

“They are cowardly and meanly hiding his body, refusing to give it to his mother and lying miserably while waiting for the trace of ” poison to disappear, Navalnaya said, suggesting her

school kids this way for over a decade, making its players — prosecutors, public defenders, judges, police officers — accessible. Spencer told the crowd of students, teachers and chaperones he wanted them to see the people behind the courts “as real people.” Thursday’s event was filled with questions and answers, demonstrations, presentations and, of course, the occasional public service announcement video.

“We’re going to laugh a little bit … we’re going to cry a little bit,” Spencer said. “And I hope you learn a little bit.”

The first video warned students about the dangers of fentanyl, the addictive narcotic often implanted in drugs to amplify a high. Ashley George, a nurse practitioner, relayed stories from her time at a Johns Hopkins emergency room in Baltimore, detailing nights when staff lined up as many as eight stretchers in a hallway to make sure the patients were still breathing. She said while fentanyl can be used in small doses to treat severe pain, like a gunshot wound, a dosage the size of a grain of sand is enough to kill someone.

“I can’t stress this enough, that fentanyl will kill you,” Spencer said. “I want to have fun, but I want to get home. I want you to get home.”

The judiciary’s highest priority Thursday was ensuring students had the resources and knowledge to “make the right decisions.” In that vein, Anne Arundel District Judge Jennifer Alexander also addressed the students — not so much as an officer of the court, but as a grieving mother.

In June 2022, Alexander’s daughter, Eve, died by suicide.

The judge spoke of her only daughter as someone with a passionate personality, unafraid to be herself, but who long struggled with anxiety and depression. After one of Eve’s friends attempted to take her own life, Eve was “distraught,” her mother said, after reviewing her text messages. The judge said a group of Eve’s friends talked about the incident in a chat, with Eve becoming increasingly upset. When they said goodnight, Eve was the only one who didn’t reply.

Alexander said the group attempted to contact a crisis hotline but mistakenly found the number for a veterans-based hotline. When the person on the other side of the call found out Eve was not a veteran, they disconnected the call,

Alexander said.

Eve Alexander died four weeks before the national 988 suicide hotline was established.

“All the moments in my life belong to Eve because she’s always there, even if out of sight,” Jennifer Alexander said, tears in her eyes.

Aven Castellanos, a 10th grader at Glen Burnie High, was taken aback by the Alexander family’s story.

“I was expecting to see a court case maybe about a traffic ticket or something,” Castellanos said. “I wasn’t expecting there to be stories.”

Jeanie Rangel, a junior at Broadneck High, said she was similarly surprised. When asked what she was expecting from Thursday’s field trip, she said “not all that.”

“There’s more than justice,” Rangel said. “There’s the mental health side of it, as well.”

Spencer found another way to demonstrate that fact.

The judge brought Davon Maynard, a prisoner convicted of a firearm charge, to the district courtroom to speak to the students. Maynard, 26, has also been convicted on theft, robbery and assault charges. Spencer, who had released Maynard after one of those convictions in 2018, commended Maynard’s attitude and willingness to better himself. Since he was sentenced to prison, Maynard said he received his GED.

“To stand up here, to own what he’s done, that’s courage,” Spencer said.

Using Maynard’s experience, Spencer warned the students about the hardships of incarceration. For instance, at one point during his sentence, Maynard had been on a “23 to 1” schedule, meaning he spent 23 hours inside his cell and one hour outside. Maynard said he keeps a stack of books to keep his mind occupied, though Spencer said there are times when a prisoner’s mental health is deeply impacted by the locking schedule.

“The mind is a terrible thing to waste,” Maynard told the crowd. “We live in the world, why be stagnant? Live your life but do it the right way.”

Maynard said was working on developing a music career before his arrest. He’s continued his passion in prison, chronicling his experiences selling drugs in a world “where nobody had direction.”

With lyrics pleading with audiences, “Don’t give up on me,” saying “I just want to live with no pain,” Maynard performed alone, his voice filling the courtroom.

The students gave him a standing ovation.