The Texas Tech School of Law brought an Innocence Clinic to campus through a partnership with the Innocence Project of Texas, an organization which works to bring post-conviction exonerations to those who were imprisoned before DNA evidence was used regularly in court cases.

In years past, the clinic has operated off campus. This is the first year the clinic is located in the School of Law’s building, Allison Clayton, adjunct professor at the School of Law, said. Her willingness to, through the clinic, provide instruction on how to practice innocence law allowed the law school to bring it onto campus.

“The (American Bar Association) has certain mandates for how clinics have to be taught and how many hours the professor has to be available for the students,” Clayton said.

Michael Ware, executive director of the Innocence Project of Texas, helped start this clinic with the School of Law. However, it is now operating almost entirely under the guidance of Clayton, Ware said.

The educational importance of this clinic rests on the reality that the work done through the Innocence Project of Texas falls within a unique area of law, Clayton said.

“There are a lot of aspects to it that you’re not going to learn in any other classes,” Clayton said.

The increased reliance on two legal concepts are what distinguish innocence law from other legal practices, Clayton said. The first of these is the use of habeas corpus, a writ ordering a person in custody to be brought before a court.

Rudy Moisiuc, a third-year law student who serves as one of the clinic’s four student attorneys, said the second concept is an Article 64 motion, which directly involves post-conviction DNA testing

“Article 64 is basically getting testing done on physical evidence,” Moisiuc said. “Whether it’s a pair of panties or whatever the DNA is on — whatever physical evidence they have in storage — we do an Article 64 motion to get it tested.”The difference between writ of habeas corpus and an Article 64 motion is habeas corpus entails an attorney arguing that a conviction is unfair and then presenting evidence that supports the claim, Moisiuc said.

Because DNA testing has not been around forever, Clayton said many criminals convicted in older cases are now coming forward and asking that their cases be retried with the inclusion of DNA evidence.

“(Wrongful convictions) happen a lot more than people want to acknowledge,” Clayton said. “It’s okay to acknowledge whenever they do happen, and it’s okay to work with people to get them overturned.”

Clayton, who also serves as a post-conviction appellate attorney, said it is difficult to motivate district attorneys to reopen these cases.

After court declares someone guilty, the idea of that ruling being wrong is a difficult one for most district attorneys to embrace, she said.

“You’ve had 12 people sit down and hear all the evidence in the case. You’ve had 12 people sit down and say, ‘In our judgement, he’s guilty.’ And that determination gets a great deal of deference in our world,” Clayton said. “We really treat that verdict with a great deal of respect.”

However, the Innocence Project of Texas does not exist to get guilty people out of prison, Clayton said. If the Innocence Clinic is brought a case that involves a convict the student attorneys do not believe is innocent, they drop the case immediately.

Only third-year law students are allowed to be a part of the clinic. Therefore, neither the students nor Clayton can afford to waste their time on a case they believe does not involves a wrongful conviction, Moisiuc said.

“It’s really exciting to be a part of all of this. I really, really think we can do a lot of good,” Clayton said.

For her class on innocence law, Clayton said she planned to discuss a case that involved a convict who pled guilty to felony-degree theft, Clayton said. The allegations against him were made by his uncle who, years later, came forward saying that he had found all of the allegedly stolen items in his closet.

The Innocence Clinic at Tech is working on this case alongside several others. While they work unwearyingly to get these post-conviction exonerations, it can take a while to process evidence and receive a new decision because of how slowly the court system operates, Clayton said.

“I’m pretty sure we’re going to get an exoneration,” she said, “depending on how quickly the courts act, but we’re going to get an exoneration (in the case involving theft).”

Moisiuc said this will be the clinic’s first exoneration.

However, Clayton said the Innocence Project also struggles to get post-conviction exonerations because, often times, those who bring the wrongful conviction do not want their work or the system they have convicted someone through to appear compromised.

“In any kind of system that functions around humans,” Clayton said, “there are mistakes, and there is strength in acknowledging that mistakes happen and that there is a certain morality that comes in being able to say, ‘We messed up.’”

Moisiuc said this has been one of the largest obstacles in their main case: the case of Edward Ates. Convicted of murder years ago, Ates has been waiting in prison for someone to prove his innocence, which is what the Innocence Clinic intends to do.

While the clinic’s four student attorneys, along with Clayton, work on cases of their own, their primary focus is on Ates’ case. Hurdling over compromised storage of evidence, factual inaccuracies, false testimonies and reluctant district attorneys, they have continued to fight for Ates’ freedom.

“In some cases, the DA’s office doesn’t want to help you. They don’t want to get you papers,” Clayton said. “They’re going to fight you tooth and nail, just because they feel like that’s the thing they’re supposed to do, because that’s the old way of thinking."

To combat this, Moisiuc said they spend a significant amount of time simply listening to stories from the witnesses, the victims and the convicts. Once they fully understand what went wrong, they try convince the DA to work with them on the case.

Clayton said the reason she spends so much time listening to their clients — why she talks with them on the phone for hours, writes them letter upon letter, and drives for hours on end to visit them in prison — is her desire to restore the legal system outlined in the U.S. Constitution to its full glory.

“I think we have the best system in the world, and when it fails, that failure is really distressing to me,” Clayton said. “This idea that our system, this beautiful system, messed up and that someone has been hurt because of it is distressing. That’s not justice.”

The team of five has been working tirelessly to bring justice to Ates and their other clients. At the beginning of March, Moisiuc said they spent half a week traveling around Texas, meeting with the convicts they are helping.

Of the time they were on this trip, 25 hours were spent in the car, driving from city to city, Clayton said. While this work can be exhausting and involves little financial return, this team of five is eager to help get justice for their clients.

“It’s just one of those things,” Clayton said. “If you’re going to fight for something, you fight for it.”