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Marisa Ruiz

December 10, 2008

Essay Final

How I Exploited the Media to Expose the Injustices of Hawai‘i’s Criminal Court System and the

Hawai‘i Parole Authority

It was eighteen years ago when I endured the agonizing journey of a domestic violent

life. Victimized, I was, but a victim of domestic violence? Not me. I refuse to accept that

stereotypical terminology which is frequently used by our society that brings to mind the image

of the pathetic helpless woman trapped in the ill-fated cycle of violence and turmoil. In all

honesty, I can’t consider myself a victim of domestic violence, because as a participant, I was

partially to blame. I was a victim, but not in the traditional sense of the word. I was a victim of

the red tape, loopholes, and bullshit of a state government elected by the people for the people.

In their failure to safeguard my rights, I retaliated by sharing my own painful and private

experience and how our justice system failed me. With the help of a friend and the editorial

power of the Honolulu Weekly, I helped open the doors to public awareness on certain legalities

within the Hawai‘i Family Court System pertaining to “Rules of Evidence” and specific policies

that govern the way the Hawai‘i Paroling Authority handles victims’ rights with repeat

offenders.

When I think back a couple decades ago, I think I accomplished a great deal for a woman

in her early twenties. I had a great career with a promising future at a prestigious ad agency. I

was married to a very handsome man and had a baby on the way. We owned a quaint single-

family home on the Windward side. And I drove a brand new Mercedes. I’ve always been a
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strong-willed and lively free spirit. I attribute my attitude and coping skill to strong parents. But

with these fine traits, I had quite a few short-comings. My greatest problem was that I was much

too proud for my own good. Therefore, when I had any personal problems, I never turned to my

family or friends for support or advice. With much arrogance, I was obsessed with the idea of

having the perfect family. I became the poster child for what some people refer to as the “white

picket fence” syndrome. As I said before, being a willing participant, I never considered myself

as a victim. After all, the physical fights never went on without a drag out brawl from me. As

one would expect, the violence continued to escalate. Shortly after my son was born, I filed for

divorce. Although my estranged husband was no longer residing in the house, the problems

didn’t end, they just got progressively dangerous. After hearing some conflicting information

about his past, I took it upon myself to do some background investigation of my own. I was

completely baffled! I found out that he had a life sentence in which he served only ten years of

his term for the brutal murders of two people. Of course, I was aware of the general situation

when I married him, but negligent homicide is one thing and first-degree murder is

incomprehensible!

With this somber realization, I knew I was in a serious situation. Therefore, I filed an

order of protection against him and bought a .25 caliber Beretta for my sanity. In retaliation and

fear of having his parole revoked (I assume), he counter filed. Fabricating stories of being

abused and threatened by me, I was served the restraining order and forced to surrender my

firearm to the sheriff. Given his prior history and the delicacy of this matter, I was completely

shocked that this steroidal out, two hundred fifty plus muscle bound socio-path could actually

file an order of protection again me, a mere “buck-o-five.”

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It wasn’t long before another episode of violence exploded. In a heated argument on the

sidewalk of a busy intersection, he started to hit me. With all the people around, not one person

did a thing. As soon as I broke away, I ran to my car and grabbed a bat I hid under my seat and

ran after him, hitting him as hard as I could. Within seconds, the police came and it was the first

time I filed formal charges against him for abuse of a family member. He was immediately

arrested and booked at the main station. The very next morning, he was released on bail and on

unconditional release pending our trial. According to the stipulations of his sentencing as a

convicted felon, any arrest made while he is out on parole will automatically result in a

temporary parole revocation. Within days, his parole officer had him detained pending the

parole board’s review and determination of the situation. Fortunate for me!

The next injustice I faced was how the entire court case was handled. The trial was

doomed from the start. First of all, the State of Hawai‘i became the plaintiff, therefore making

me a material witness. Second, was how the “Rules of Evidence” worked in his favor. From my

recollection, according to Hawai‘i State Revised Statutes, any crime committed prior and

unrelated to this assault was suppressed from the jury (or something to that effect). In fact,

during the preliminary hearing, I was warned by the judge not to mention anything that did not

pertain to this trial, otherwise it would end in a mistrial. For that reason, the jury wasn’t entitled

to privileged information such as his previous convictions, parole status, or even the current

status of my protective order. At the end of his trial, he was acquitted and I was labeled as the

jealous wife who attacked her husband. I couldn’t help but think of all the other women who fell

victims to similar situations ruled by the irrational and complete reckless logic of our great legal

system.
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The final injustice I experienced was with the Hawai‘i Paroling Authority and their

decision to reinstate his parole. As a branch of the Department of Public Safety, the Hawai‘i

Paroling Authority is made up of three members appointed by the governor and confirmed by the

state senate. They are the actual ones who review and make the determination of whether an

incarcerated person can or can’t be released to the community including revoking or reinstating

parole or probation of a detained felon. In my ex-husband’s case, although he was acquitted in

family court, under the conditions of his parole, his arrest automatically revoked his parole until

his Parole Board hearing.

In the two months prior to his hearing, I was able to get letters personally written by

neighbors, friends, family, my college professors, and Hawai‘i State Representative Cynthia

Thielan, addressing the paroling authority, specifically to Nestor Garcia, the presiding member,

in support for my case. Armed with these letters, along with the support of my representative

and the complete backing of the Domestic Violence Clearinghouse, I was very optimistic about

the outcome of my ex-husband’s parole hearing. In fact, Representative Theilan was able to get

me an appointment to present my case to the board prior to his hearing. Accompanied by a close

friend and my English professor, we went to Halawa Maximum Correctional Facility for the

meeting. After going through a very invasive intake process and a two-hour long wait, the parole

board decided that our meeting would have no bearing on their decision, and denied our request

to hear my “victim” impact statement. By noon the following day, they reinstated his parole and

released him immediately. As of today, he lives in Honolulu, enjoying all the freedoms anyone

of us law-abiding citizens has. It is astonishing that those authorities appointed to protect the

community, have the power to make such critical decisions that affect the livelihood and safety

of others based on their own personal findings. Need I say anymore?

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With little doubt in the blatant injustice this state’s various authorities did to me, I got not

just angry, but FUCKING furious. I wanted revenge, payback, whatever you want to call it. I

wanted to find any means to screw over someone within this administration. When all else had

failed me, leaving me extremely bitter and vengeful, my girlfriend, a journalist, who attended

what was supposed to be a parole hearing, had a fantastic idea. Seeing first hand at the injustice

of my experience and empathetic to my present state of mind, she consulted her boss, the chief

editor of the Honolulu Weekly, about featuring my story and the consequences of an ineffective

justice system. With ultimate determination, I cleared my mind of all anger, cynicism, and

frustration and continued with a much more different methodology.

Over the course of a month consisting of hours of interviews, research, and going over

court documents, she was ready to write my story. After two months, she got her editor’s

approval and emailed the article to me. Although it wasn’t what I expected, I was happy to have

this opportunity to be heard. But more over, I was completely elated to know that this was going

to publicly embarrass at LEAST one person.

The new edition hit the stands. That’s when the over abundance of phone calls started.

I’ll never forget the first call; it came around 6:30 in the morning. My best friend from

childhood who I hadn’t heard from since my wedding called in total shock. Impact was what I

wanted, and impact I got. The responses to my article were over whelming; there were a few

pissed-off letters to the editor, but on the most part, there were many opinions as well as

demands for answers and reasons to why the system worked in such ways. Although there was

nothing that could be done to my case specifically, I was thrilled at the prospect of getting back

at the system that caused me such personal injustice. My exploitation of the Honolulu Weekly
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became the successful vehicle in which my story was heard. Consequently, my ex-husband

never bothered me again.

By using my own personal resources, my career, and the power of the media, my screams

of frustration were heard about the justice system that failed me. Although, my intentions were

solely selfish in its purpose during that tumultuous time of my life, there are many personal

things I learned from this experience that has made me who I am today. Despite the fact that it

took me a few years, I learned to liberate my anger and got past the blame, by taking

responsibility in my part of this situation as well. I achieved self-confidence and refuge within

myself that made me a stronger woman today. Most importantly, I realized that if I applied that

same determination I had during the adversities, to the greater and positive things in life, the sky

has no limits to where I want to go. In all honesty, I don’t have any regrets. I believe that had I

never known such hell, I would never have had the appreciation for the tranquility and peace my

son and I enjoy today.