The Feedback Loop
Here I was - 20 years old, eight months pregnant, handcuffed and sitting in the back of a police car waiting to be transported to the local precinct for booking. To the officer on the scene, I was a simple statistic: an unregistered vehicle, a revoked license, a failure to comply. For me it was the final, crushing weight of a systemic collapse that had begun years earlier with a single car accident and a missed piece of mail.
We are taught to view health and success as the products of individual choices - the result of doing the right thing. But when we adjust our lens and zoom out a bit, we begin to see a different picture. One that includes the seemingly invisible architecture that makes up our lives including things such as where we live, our ability to work and assumed equity in our governmental systems.
The Rewind
In my case, the architecture of my life as a young person was filled with a series of tripwires. Two years prior to that moment in the police car, I zipped through a yellow light and was t-boned while on my way to school. I remember vividly time slowing down as my hands reached for the car's ceiling to stabilize my body as it moved through rotations in the air before landing on its roof. The same fluttering in my stomach when riding a scary roller coaster, only this ride ended due to the impact of the nearest light pole, now fallen on the ground.
In that moment, as the fire department pulled me through the narrow gap of a compacted window, I was a patient in need of care. But once the glass was swept away, I became a debtor within a system I knew very little about.
The Discretionary Space: Where “The Truth" is Built
In the immediate aftermath of the crash, with an officer's due diligence of interviewing and determining fault, it was found that both drivers were to blame. It was a fair, albeit messy, reflection of a split-second intersection mishap. However, as it is in the world of insurance payouts, that initial equilibrium eventually gave way to a deeper investigation and this is where my differences would become an insurmountable wall.
See, the deal with my mom was that I would be responsible for the payments on my first car while she handled the insurance. What I didn’t realize until after the accident was that my insurance had lapsed due to non-payment. This became my starting point - already operating at a deficit.
When the investigation moved from the chaotic street corner to an office, the power dynamics shifted. I was an 18-year-old brown girl with no legal representation, no insurance, an aversion and naivete to authority figures and a schedule packed with classes and work. On the other side was a 50-year-old white woman who carried the perceived authority of age, experience, and likely, a different level of comfort within institutional spaces.
Logic - What Logic?
In these discretionary moments, systemic bias doesn’t usually look like a villain shouting a slur. It often looks like a gut feeling or a reasonable assumption.
The Data: Statistics show that when legal representation is absent, outcomes in civil and traffic disputes frequently split along racial and socioeconomic lines. For example, studies on insurance claims and traffic liability have shown that marginalized drivers are often assessed higher degrees of fault than their white counterparts in similar "word-vs-word" scenarios.
The Friction: My word lacked the institutional weight required to balance the scales. Without a lawyer to act as my translator and shield, my narrative was easily discounted in favor of a more standard one.
The investigation’s final finding, that I was basically 100% at fault, wasn't necessarily a malicious act. It was simply the result of a system that defaults to the most powerful voice in the room when no one else is there to speak for the vulnerable.
Systems are often designed with a standard user in mind. This assumes someone has a lawyer, financial resources, a stable mailbox and a safety net. What I had was minimal understanding of the legal justice system, an overworked mother and a life that depended heavily on my car as I navigated two jobs and a full course load.
When Bandwidth Becomes a Barrier
My mother wasn’t an irresponsible woman; she was a woman functioning at the absolute limit of human bandwidth. Between her high-stress job that would often require her to travel for months on end and the constant mental load of navigating a single parent, low-middle income reality, she was always at capacity. In the world of public policy, we often talk about personal responsibility, but we rarely talk about the infrastructure of support required to exercise it.
So when I received a court summons in the mail, it makes sense that it was missed. A few months before the crash I had just moved into my first apartment. My mailing address was still my mother’s house which is where the summons arrived. Remember how my mom traveled? Well she eventually saw the summons but didn’t understand that it meant I needed to show up to court on a certain date. She meant to tell me about it, to follow up with someone who could explain it to her but in the foggy haze of her life it fell to the wayside.
Let’s ASSume
There are many overlapping layers of our lives that impact one's health, stability and access in ways that are equitable. In this case - it was the assumption of access to information that tripped me up. When a court summons arrives in the mailbox of my home it isn’t just mail. It is a test of administrative survival. So what happens when said court date was missed? Because let’s be real - you already know it was.
A default judgment is ordered against me in the range of $10,000 to cover insurance claims. Oh yes and remember that fallen light pole? Another $2,500 judgment is ordered to pay the city for a replacement. I often contemplate adding a plaque to that busy light pole - something along the lines of “This light pole was brought to you by Maricella - you’re welcome.”
Next step? Set up a payment plan because that default judgment is non-negotiable my friend. So that is what my mother and I do - because at this point she is wrought with guilt - and together we come up with a plan to make those payments together. Did I also mention I had JUST turned 18 so was basically still a baby navigating early adulthood and needing my mommy to help me through.
What comes next? Accidentally default on one payment (it was late) and now be required to pay for the remaining balance in full (where was that stated in the fine print?). No more repayment plan for you my friend. Oh yes and while we are at it - your license is also revoked until paid in full (more fine print?) which means that new car you have? Don’t even think about driving it because its registration can’t be renewed.
Have I become the biggest threat to society because I didn’t mail a check on time and was unable to immediately produce thousands of dollars out of my ass?
And You Shall Keep Paying
So here you are - two years after said event. A little bit older, a lot more pregnant, a spattering wiser, but now several thousand dollars in debt with ongoing license issues, a deep mistrust of the criminal justice system and a side of long term trauma. And even though your driving privileges have been revoked by the great state of Wisconsin, you decide to drive.
Besides, remember how you’re a bit wiser? All you have to do is put your super sonic, high-alert eyes and ears on display to avoid any suspicious government-looking vehicles from approaching behind you so they don’t see your expired stickers and run your plates.
You drive because how else will you pay off your debts and get your license back? You drive because you have doctor appointments even though your stress levels go up every time you are behind the wheel which can’t be healthy for the baby.
You drive because you are otherwise a safe, responsible driver who was caught in a series of unfortunate circumstances years ago.
But alas. You can’t win them all my friend and so here Maricella sits - handcuffed in the back of a police car as she realizes that you she is being held captive by a system functioning exactly as it was designed. One that prioritized the collection of a $10,000 debt over the life-long stability of a young mother and her child.
From Statistic to Scholar
Perhaps that is what propelled you to finish school with fervor and obtain your B.S. in Criminal Justice. Young Maricella recognized, even then, that what happened to her was not so much a consequence of her actions, but rather a larger feedback loop that perpetuates harmful cycles.
She didn't just want to understand the law; she wanted to understand the architecture that makes the law feel like a trap for some and a safety net for others.
You can tell someone to be more responsible but if the system inhabited is filled with discretionary bias, administrative tripwires, and resources are not equally accessible, then the idea of responsibility becomes an impossible standard.
We must move beyond a system that prioritizes punishment and recovery of debt over the stability of one's life. To truly educate the public and think about institutional reform, we have to stop looking at these stories as personal misfortunes and start seeing them as design flaws. Only when we redesign the map that targets the young, the poor, and the marginalized will we have a chance at an equitable system that truly serves all.
