A soft smile lingers on the face of Michelle Peterson, 57, as she gazes at the old photo of the barn, reminiscing about the cotton candy skies and dewey soft air of the early mornings spent cleaning out stables and feeding the livestock.
She picks up the photo, and softly traces the outline of the old building. “Everything I can remember from my childhood, happened near that barn.”
The piercing ring of a phone turns her head sharply towards her desk.
Ms. Peterson, a Minnesota farm girl turned D.C. public defender, sits in her office off of 6th and Indiana, drinking her daily fourth cup of coffee. No longer are her days spent in the outdoors among the farm’s wildlife; now, instead of the chaotic symphony of animals noises, Ms. Peterson is surrounded by ringing phones and demanding clients and judges.
While Ms. Peterson loves her job and the positive effect she has on so many people’s lives, she often longs for the peacefulness of the lake and the homeyness of the old farmhouse. Earlier, she had humbly mentioned working on the Clinton impeachment as one of her proudest accomplishments. “Not so much for the actual context of the case, but for the historical swag,” She had joked. Yet, working for thirty-plus years often makes one dream about what comes next.
There’s a small glimmer hiding behind her light blue eyes as she talks about craving a peaceful retirement back home in Minnesota in her families’ old cabin by the lake. She says with a small laugh that, “it would be a permanent vacation where [she] wouldn’t have to answer calls all day and file motions in [her] free time.”
Often, being a public defender is a difficult task, due to the heavy caseloads and strict deadlines. When prompted about the stress of the job, she mentions that she has pretty much been working her whole life, and compares it to the stress of keeping up the farm, saying, “in both you’re holding the livelihood of a person in your hand, only difference is, it’s not mine anymore.”
