Attending a court hearing as an observer may sound like a dismal leisurely activity, especially to someone who has come in contact with the justice system previously in their life. They may wonder why anyone would want to willingly subject themselves to the anxiety court often dispels onto the attendees. It is likely that this sort of question is common because of the negative connotation of the word “court,” and the assumption that court is where the “bad” people go to face the consequences of their adverse actions. Similarly, most of the population has been influenced by the media, linking their beliefs of real-world court with depictions of the process and the system within television, movies, and even the newspaper. The fact of the matter is, attending court and virtually observing a depiction of the court process are two completely different things. It is true that there are several commonalities, but to  genuinely understand the experience you have to immerse yourself in the actual environment. Herein, the question begging to be asked is: what is the major difference between personal experience and detached observation, and is it a deal breaker for understanding the real impact of attending a court hearing?
	Firstly, it is important to be knowledgable about who exactly attends court (besides an observer), what their roles are within the system, and how they may influence the atmosphere within the court for better or for worse. In most cases, not all of the key players may be present at every single hearing as it depends highly on which level of court you are attending. In Canada, there are four levels of court: supreme court, provincial/territorial court, provincial/territorial superior court, and federal court (Regehr, Kanani. 2010, p. 4-5). Furthermore, within each of these levels there are several other categories of court and possible present personnel. The nine categories of personnel are as follows: the judge, the master, the Justice of the Peace, the parties, the lawyers (also known as the counsel), the Crown Attorney, the agents, the witnesses, and the jury (Social Work and The Law, 2012, p. 24-27). Not all of these players may be present at every hearing, but they are all undeniably important in the process. In addition, they all influence the atmosphere of the court room, and in turn, may have a very intense impact on the sensitivity of those accused and prosecuting. It is key to note that while reading body language can give signals as to the feeling of a situation, it is highly difficult to be honestly empathetic toward the involved if, say, you are reclining in your living room chair with a glass of iced tea, watching the proceedings on television. To acknowledge discomfort is one thing, but to sit, impressionable, amongst these key players is entirely different. The only way to know is to attend.
	On Wednesday, September 19th, 2012, at the Wyndham St S Criminal Court, there began the third day of a three day trial. The accused was being faced with two accounts of assault with a weapon causing bodily harm. Before even entering the room, it was obvious that the pressure of the hearing extended beyond the doors and into the hallways. Tension built as 9:30AM drew closer, recognizable by the fidgeting and pacing of those waiting for the start of the hearing. Finally, as it was announced over the P.A that court room two was ready to begin, it seemed as though everyone that proceeded down the hall was closely followed by a looming elephant, who took his own seat amongst everyone else in the gallery.
	On this day, many of the major key players were present. Most notably was the judge. Presented to the room by the court clerk, Judge Douglas ascended the steps to his honourable chair and took a seat. The court clerk then informed everyone else to sit as well, and proceeded to do the same herself. The court clerk and her right hand, the court reporter, sat on a level just below that of the judge, notably dressed in the same black robes and white collar as the judge, with only his red sash and the levels in which they sat to differentiate them. There was one more lower level, and as the hearing begin, it became clear that this was where the defence counsel (on the left) and the crown attorney (on the right) resided. In addition, there were several officers of the law scattered around the room, for security purposes. Between the hierarchy podium and the gallery there was a wooden divider. All of the personnel of the court, aside from a few officers, stood on the far side of the divider. Interestingly, the accused remained in the gallery, with no clear way of being able to indicate that he was in fact the accused, especially since he was not once called upon by the judge or other players of the court personally. In most cases, this is not the case in media controlled depictions of court. Similarly, a jury was not involved with this trial, which may be surprising to someone attending court for the first time. Oftentimes, the jury is a big part of the media's ideal court situation. Although an assigned jury was not present, it can be said that the emotions and thoughts within the minds of those who were observing the hearing were in clear alignment with what a jury may have experienced.
	It is a rule of the court that one must always pay respects to the judicial system by bowing when entering and leaving the court, if the judge is present on the bench (Bliss, 2011). This practice is observed in the behaviour of almost everyone that attended court on Wednesday. It can be argued that if one has not been introduced to the court and its many rules of etiquette, it is most likely accurate to say that they are not aware of this procedure. Evidently, a few of the students that were observing that day were seemingly uninformed, and did not bow when entering or exiting. It is important to note that should a client be attending court for the first time, they also most likely do not know what the rules of the court are (unless previously informed by their Social Worker). Should they observe others bowing and do not understand why, they may feel frantic and anxious, like they have forgotten a rule when in fact, they may have not even known in the first place. Similarly, being required to humble oneself and bow in respect could have an affect on how an observer or client feels about being present. In most cases, being in the presence of authority can cause anxiety. This feeling was definitely present upon entering the room, and remained even when everyone was seated and quiet, awaiting the progression of the hearing. To be present while witnessing such a case is exhilarating in an odd sort of way, as well, and remains to be just another addition to the already intense atmosphere the courtroom had.
	 Because this was the third day of a three day trial, most of the heavy content had already been sifted through on previous days. However, the opportunity to watch the questioning of a witness occurred. The judge asked the defence counsel to call his last witness to the stand, a police officer who, ironically, was also the brother of the accused. He was then asked to swear to be honest when answering the defence counsel's questions, and continued to assumedly do so throughout his questioning. The first half of the day was dedicated to this one witness and then the defence counsel's case for his client, the accused. As his voice began to drone, the noise in the courtroom began to raise slightly. Whispers of the courtroom officers could be heard at the back of the room. They often went in and out of the doors as well, causing slight disruptions to those seated in the gallery. Even the judge at one point seemed to become bored with the defence counsel's monologue, and in trying to speed up the process, cut the lawyer off and told him what exactly to focus on. This happened a few times, resulting in slight amusement among the observers attending who were seemingly grateful for the interruption of the judge. It felt as though he was offering a silent “ice breaker” for the court, which could have a large impact on the emotions of a client who may otherwise be feeling very overwhelmed.  It was also interesting to see that the judge did not, in fact, own and/or abuse the use of a gavel, a very common instrument used within television and film to depict the role of the judge.
	As the defence counsel retained concentration on the parts of his monologue the judge wanted him to focus on, it seemed as though progression was slowly coming forth. All in all, by the time he'd finished pleading the case for his client, it seemed as though this could've very well have been a person who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Astonishingly, there was a sense of sympathy for the accused, that perhaps the prosecutor was the one in the wrong and this man wasn't to be blamed for the alleged crimes he supposedly committed.
	This belief, however, was shortly lived. After a quick recess, it was the crown attorney's turn to present his suggestions to the judge, and contrarily, the reasons why the accused should be found guilty and sentenced harshly. Also, in contrast to the media's representation of court, the crown's client, the man that charged the accused, was not present. As soon as the crown began, it was clear that he had a sense of passion for his job. He was concise, articulate, and witty. He even emitted a sense of clarity and excitement that was immediately responded to by the gallery. There were two clear responses: first, the majority of the observers became far more alert. Some sat up and leaned against the pew in front of them, engaged by his approach to presenting himself, and other's began to smile or tilt their heads, as if contemplating what he was saying. It was almost as if their thoughts of the accused were changing from that sympathetic viewpoint to a more offensive approach, that he was to blame for the happenings, that he was guilty. However, the second major response to the crown was arguably even more unexpected than the first. There were a few people sitting behind the accused, which were, at first, just thought to be other observers. It was now clear, however, that they were the grieving family members of the defence counsel's client. The first was recognizably the police officer who was used as a witness before. The other could have been the accused's father. Both of which were in low spirits, reacting to the crown's words as if they were getting closer and closer to an unfavourable sentence for their loved one. From an outside perspective, it would be easy to say that observing these two responses could have a very confusing affect on someone attending the court hearing. Do you remain sympathetic for the accused, or do you suddenly begin to agree with the crown? Or, do you notice the impact this process is having on the family of the accused, and feel sympathetic for them instead? All of these questions would be highly difficult to answer for someone who was not actually sitting in on the hearing.
	Furthermore, as the crown finished his suggestions and took his seat, it was then that the stench of the elephant from earlier once again became noticeable among the people. The fidgeting, the lip biting, and the feeling of anxiety settled like a cloud over those observing. A few words of wisdom were presented by the judge, who delivered his findings on the hearing and what was presented to him. However, no matter how much he spoke of humanity and the merits of those included, whether inherently “good” or “bad,” the cloud did not lift. Still, when the accused was found guilty it did not blow away. Unfortunately, it doesn't have a chance of doing so until October 30th, when the court reassembles to review the granted pre-sentence report. All of those who left the court that day were followed by the remnants of the tenacious elephant, disappointed for the lack of validation, and the anxiety of once again having to return to the court and its ominous atmosphere.
	In conclusion, it is clear that the difference between sitting in on a hearing and simply watching one on a television is what exactly is taken away from the experience. You cannot simply click the off button on life's events and walk away from it without some sort of impression. In the grand scheme of things, you are who you are because of what you learn or do not learn from the different situations you are a part of. Court is not simply an institution where justice is served and those who do “bad” go to face the outcomes of their actions. It is also a feeling, an atmosphere, or an impression, one that is carried by all of who go and come from it. To understand the difference, you must be knowledgable about who is involved in the court system, what you might need to expect when planning to attend, and ultimately, you must actually immerse yourself in the environment. Only then can you truly understand the reality of the court system and the impact it has on all those involved.