Two faces of Valessa mirror lives of women

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By MARY JO MELONE

© St. Petersburg Times, published April 13, 2000

The murder trial of Valessa Robinson is also the Dee Ann Athan Show.

The chief defender of this "child," as Athan called her repeatedly Wednesday, strutted across the courtroom with her hands behind her back like a besieged colonel. She threw her papers down on the defense table when the judge ruled against her, as he often did. Her eyes rolled. Her face twisted in disgust. When she sat down she held Valessa's hand with not one of her own hands, but both.

When the prosecutors asked that she not hold her client's hand or keep her arm around her, Athan shot back, "Why don't you just have me leave the room?"

Luckily for Athan, the jury was not present.

A jury might tolerate these theatrics in a man, might see them as intelligent scrappiness.

But when it comes to what women can get away with, the rules are still different. This isn't fair, but fairness is irrelevant to the subject.

In a woman, no matter her work, no matter her talents, Dee Ann Athan's display is usually dismissed as emotional behavior. Although Athan will go on to other cases, this stuff is usually a career wrecker. In this instance, though, Valessa Robinson is the one who could suffer.

But it is fitting that Athan's display is taking place in this trial.

Although a man, J. Rodgers Padgett, presides over the trial, all the leading roles on this stage are played by women.

The two prosecutors are women. So are the three public defenders.

They are locked in battle over what could be lifted from Greek tragedy, a daughter's alleged murder of her mother.

The facts of the killing are not the only things being examined here. The roles women play are also getting looked at, not only as a professional, but as daughter, mother, child, adult.

In her opening statement, prosecutor Pam Bondi described Vicki Robinson's life as one many women can identify with -- a single mother who lived an uneasy, hectic balancing act, in which she sold houses, tried to keep her daughters in line and at the same time tried to find her own happiness.

Dee Ann Athan tried with what little subtlety she possesses to portray Vicki Robinson as a questionable mother.

Mrs. Robinson gave in and tried to be her rebellious daughter's friend. Four years' difference in age is immense in adolescence; still Vicki Robinson let Adam Davis spend the night under their roof. One summer, when Valessa ran away and refused to go on a vacation to Michigan, Mrs. Robinson left her behind, alone at home, for two weeks. Athan suggested that she never once called to check on the girl.

Finally, there are Valessa's roles. The way the jury sees them is what will determine the verdict.

To the defense, she was the victim of manipulating men, who plied her with drugs and, as Athan said, fed her teenage fantasies. She was along for the ride.

To the prosecution, she was grown up enough to talk about killing her mother long before the crime. The law calls this premeditation, and it is grounds for a first-degree conviction. She was defiant and sexual and powerful enough to walk all over her mother, when she tried in vain to rein in Valessa.

The truth is to be found somewhere in all the pieces that are Valessa, pieces that don't fit together very well. When she came to court for opening arguments Wednesday, she was in another of those schoolgirl outfits, a flowered jumper with a matching cardigan. Her figure was gentle and slight, as if full womanhood were still around the corner. But her hands were held in metal cuffs behind her back, and a grim-looking male bailiff stood right at her side, as if he were afraid that she might bolt.

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