Dear Mr. Trump:
Broad paint brushes cover more canvas than fine brushes. But they cannot illustrate the details in a painting. It’s essential for all of us—but mainly for our leaders–not to paint with too broad of a brush. Meaning, it’s important to look at the individual, not merely to classify them as this or that.
Much of the difficulty people had with you in your campaign was the tendency to generalize groups of people—Mexicans, Muslims, Mormons, to name a few that all begin with the letter M. I hope as President of the United States, you’ll put that brush away in favor of a more delicate, more detail enhancing brush.
Over the years, I have defended hundreds of people—from murder to traffic violations. I’ve prosecuted thousands—from murder to traffic violations. I’ve witnessed and experienced a lot of human nature in courtrooms, jail cells, orange jumpsuits, and shackles.
I’ve defended my next door neighbors in court, and I’ve prosecuted my next door neighbors in court. It doesn’t make you particularly popular in the neighborhood.
One of my most trusted friends is long-haired, rough rider looking character that I prosecuted twenty years ago. His name is Jon. The police arrested him because they suspected that he committed a crime and the fact that he looked like a criminal supported their conclusion.
I prosecuted him because the police reports supported a prosecution. The fact that he looked the part made it easier for me. In the process of prosecuting him, his defense attorney persuaded me that he was innocent. I dropped the charges against him. I got to know him in another setting later, and we became close friends. Today, twenty years later he’s still on my speed dial, and I on his.
I mention this to make the point that most people that populate our criminal justice systems are not criminals at heart. They’re criminals in name—because that’s the name government and society give them after they act a certain way. But, it’s important not to allow a label to justify any of us in painting with a broad brush. Each criminal defendant has other titles—son, daughter, husband, wife, to name a few. Among the toughest conversations I ever had as a prosecutor, was looking a mother in the eye and telling her that I was going to put her son in prison. Tough decisions have to be made, but we can make them compassionately and not with an aggrandized sense of piling on.
I rarely lost a jury trial as a prosecutor. But I never heard a guilty verdict pronounced that didn’t fill me with sadness–Sadness for the poor choices that got him/her into court; Sadness for the victim; Sadness for the defendant’s family. I suppose part of it is that I’ve never met anyone in a jail cell or in a courtroom from whom I didn’t learn something and in whom I didn’t see some redeeming quality—some touch of divinity within.
Looking for the divinity within each of us—particularly our political or social foes—allows us to see people for who they are and not just someone standing in opposition to us. It raises the level of our political discourse.
Washington lacks that. I encourage you to do what you can to change Washington and America by seeing the individual and not just the group and by looking for the divinity that he or she has in common with all of us.
Sincerely,
David O. Leavitt
