How a Los Angeles Court Silenced a Domestic Violence Survivor’s ADA Advocate During a Federal Shutdown
On a gray Monday morning in Los Angeles, a courtroom went quiet — not because justice was being served, but because those who came to witness it were locked out.
I was one of them. I had been given a Microsoft Teams link from the Los Angeles Superior Court to observe the hearing in People v. Giselle Smiel—a case that has increasingly drawn national attention among domestic-violence and disability-rights advocates. I logged in before 8:30 a.m. PST, along with advocates, witnesses, and supporters scattered across California and beyond.
For more than three hours, we waited in the virtual lobby, watching the spinning circle on our screens before someone from the courtroom spoke up. They requested that we all hang up and stated that no one was allowed to be on the line to listen to the proceedings. This, despite the court having provided the link.
Then came the message that defined the day:
“We aren’t going to be having one of those today.”
Those words, delivered to ADA advocate Renata DeMello after she identified herself as Ms. Smiel’s ADA representative, confirmed what many of us feared: the court had decided that no one — not advocates, not witnesses, not legal process observers, not members of the press — would be allowed to observe remotely.
The Hearing That No One Could Hear
The Los Angeles Superior Court had distributed the Teams link for the October 6 proceeding in Department 34, where Giselle Smiel’s criminal case is being heard. The link was circulated to advocates, supporters, observers, and journalists, including myself.
Ms. Smiel, a domestic-violence survivor with no criminal record, has been jailed since September 4th on six felony charges that advocates say stem from a custody dispute gone wrong, not from a crime. She lives in San Diego County, hours from Los Angeles.
Her support network — including DeMello and others — relies entirely on virtual access. Yet when we attempted to join, court staff kept us waiting indefinitely.
One observer typed in the chat:
“Please confirm this is Department 34. I have been waiting for over an hour and am still not able to observe. Please advise.”
The response was curt and dismissive:
“We aren’t going to be having one of those today.”
No legal basis. No referral to the ADA Coordinator. No acknowledgment that this was, in fact, a public courtroom.
ADA Law and the Duty to Accommodate
Under Title II of the Americans with Disabilities Act (42 U.S.C. § 12132) and California Rule of Court 1.100, courts must engage in an interactive process with anyone requesting accommodation and give “primary consideration” to that request.
That process never happened.
Instead, the court unilaterally declared that no one could appear remotely — even though it had already provided a remote link.
Later, Renata DeMello received confirmation in writing from the Public Defender’s Office:
“The Court has indicated that you are not allowed to appear remotely, that you can appear in person.”
For an ADA advocate living hundreds of miles away, that “choice” was effectively no access at all. Ms. Smiel is left on her own.
The Geography of Injustice
The denial of access created an impossible situation.
Giselle Smiel’s case is being prosecuted far from her home and community. None of her supporters reside in Los Angeles. For those of us outside the county, attending in person was unrealistic and unnecessary given the technology in place.
Expecting survivors and advocates to travel hours to attend a hearing that could easily be observed online is not accommodation — it’s exclusion.
As one advocate put it afterward:
“If Giselle’s entire support network is hours away, how can she possibly have a fair hearing if those people are told to drive to Los Angeles just to sit in the back row?”
Due Process in the Dark
Public access to criminal proceedings is a constitutional right.
In Press-Enterprise Co. v. Superior Court (1984), the Supreme Court held that the press and public have a presumptive right to attend criminal hearings. California Rule 1.150 reaffirms that “court proceedings are presumptively open.”
No such justification for closure was given in this case. The court’s silence left a due-process vacuum — a hearing conducted without public oversight, in possible violation of both the First and Fourteenth Amendments.
The Court’s Own Policy Contradicted Its Actions
Adding to the irony, the court’s own published materials show that remote access was not only available but required.
A June 16, 2025, press release from the Los Angeles Superior Court announced that the Clara Shortridge Foltz Criminal Justice Center—where Giselle’s hearing occurred—had fully transitioned to LACourtConnect (LACC), a Microsoft Teams-based remote-appearance platform for all criminal courtrooms.
“LACC is a simplified and modernized remote-appearance platform that enables attorneys and litigants to attend court hearings virtually using Microsoft Teams without the need for advanced registration,”
the Court stated in its own release.
The system promised “convenience and choice” and highlighted accessibility for those unable to appear in person.
Yet on October 6, in that very courthouse, court staff told observers waiting on Teams, “We aren’t going to be having one of those today.”
The denial wasn’t caused by technical limits—it was a conscious decision that violated both ADA law and the court’s written policy.
The Government-Shutdown Loophole
The timing made the injustice sting even more.
The hearing took place during the federal government shutdown, when the U.S. Department of Justice Civil Rights Division announced it could not accept ADA complaints. That left no active federal channel to report what we had witnessed.
In response, I filed what I called a “shutdown-period ADA complaint” with the Los Angeles Superior Court, the Judicial Council of California, and the DOJ’s dormant email queue — so that once operations resume, the complaint and evidence will be time-stamped for review.
The filing requests:
- An immediate review of Department 34’s denial of remote ADA access.
- Preservation of Teams chat logs, waiting-room data, and recordings.
- A written explanation of why public and ADA access were blocked.
Institutional Betrayal in Plain Sight
This wasn’t a glitch. It was a deliberate choice — one that mirrors a broader pattern across America, where survivors of abuse are too often failed by the institutions meant to protect them.
Giselle’s case reflects what psychologists call “institutional betrayal”: when systems that promise safety instead deepen harm through bias, silence, or neglect.
“The court not only denied her accommodation,” DeMello said afterward, “it denied the public’s right to see whether justice was even being done.”
The Next Fight: Visibility
At this point, we don’t know what occurred in that sealed-off hearing — what motions were argued, what evidence was presented, or how the court justified keeping the public out.
What we do know is that transparency was the first casualty.
Even during a federal shutdown, constitutional rights do not shut down. A survivor does not lose the right to have her ADA advocate present simply because the court finds it inconvenient.
When a judge or clerk can erase the public with one sentence — “We aren’t going to be having one of those today” — then due process becomes a privilege, not a right.
For Renata DeMello, for myself, and for everyone who waited in that virtual lobby, this isn’t only about one mother’s case. It’s about whether the public is still allowed to see what justice looks like.
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