Dana Parks appeared in a Multnomah County courtroom last month armed with a four-page, typed statement. In December, her ex-boyfriend, who'd already pleaded guilty once to assaulting her, had pleaded guilty to a second assault charge and to violating his probation regarding his first assault conviction. Now, Zachary Ball, 22, was in court to be formally sentenced.

But while she attempted to read her victim impact statement, Judge Kenneth R. Walker interrupted three times and ultimately walked out of the courtroom without allowing her to finish, according to a tape of the hearing.

"I don't know if he was preoccupied or had another appointment, but he silenced me in front of my abuser," Parks, 27, said. "I felt so embarrassed."

It's hard enough for victims of domestic violence to feel heard in the legal system. After leaving Walker's courtroom, Parks said she questioned herself: "Am I being hysterical?"

Oregon law gives victims the right at sentencing to "reasonably express any views concerning the crime, the person responsible, the impact of the crime on the victims, and the need for restitution and compensatory fine."

There's no word limit. No time cut-off.

Parks just wanted 20 minutes.

She began by talking briefly about her childhood, saying that her mother had schizophrenia and died by suicide, and that her foster family in California was physically and emotionally abusive. As a teenager, she reconnected with her biological grandparents, but both died within a year and a half of each other, she said.

After that, she moved to Portland and met Ball.

"So it's really not difficult to trace what shaped me to be so vulnerable to a narcissistic abuser like Zachary," she said.

She described him initially as charming, but then deceptive, controlling and later violent.

"I lost all self-esteem for myself."

"I mistook his jealousy for love."

"It all happened a little at a time so when I finally started to feel that things weren't right, I doubted myself."

When she began to speak about a time she said Ball allegedly sexually assaulted her, Walker interrupted.

"Ma'am, please don't tell me the details of this," the judge said, according to an audio recording of Ball's sentencing hearing.

"Why?" Parks asked.

"I don't want to hear this. Continue with your message."

Ball never faced any sexual assault charges involving Parks, but her victim's advocates hadn't said anything was out-of-bounds for her statement. If the judge had told her she wasn't allowed to say that, Parks wouldn't have felt so stung.

But it wasn't "You can't say that."

It was "I don't want to hear it."

Parks began to read comments people had left on her Instagram post of the bruises Ball had caused. Ball's attorney, Jonathan Sarre, objected, saying comments from others went beyond her right to make a statement about personal experiences.

"Don't tell me what other people said to you," Walker instructed. "Tell me about your statement."

A best practices guide from the Oregon Department of Justice offers only broad suggestions for a victim's impact statement. It encourages victims to include how the crime has affected them, any suggestions on the sentencing, and "anything else you would like the court to know."

Parks had one paragraph left – about her complaints regarding the court system – when Walker said, "OK, I've heard enough. Thank you. Thank you."

Assistant District Attorney Jessica Bostwick spoke up.

"Your honor, respectfully, I do think she—"

Walker cut her off: "I know what you think."

He told Parks to sit down and proceeded to hand down the sentence already agreed upon by both parties – 36 months in prison and credit for time served.

"And if the court would allow," Bostwick said at the close of the decision, "I do believe Ms. Parks would like to finish her statement to the court."

"I think Ms. Parks has said enough," Walker said. Then he left the courtroom. On the recording, it sounds like a door slammed behind him.

The last words on the recording are from a bewildered Parks asking the district attorney, "How come I ... had to go through that?"

The Oregon Crime Victims Law Center has filed a request for a new sentencing hearing on Parks' behalf. Attorney Yazmin Wadia wrote that the victim's constitutionally protected right to speak at sentencing was violated "because the court did not allow (her) to finish her statement and left the bench."

Ball's attorney, Sarre, said, "I certainly think she got a lot off her chest."

"Whether or not it was appropriate for the court to tell her to sit down... as far as what Judge Walker was thinking or doing, I think you have to ask him."

I tried, but Walker's office said he had no comment.

Ball's entire sentencing hearing lasted 27 minutes. Perhaps Walker expected it to last only five.

The docket shows the judge had eight other hearings that day. What's simply his routine work morning is a crossroads for someone else's life.

Parks had waited nearly a year to pour her heart out in that courtroom, and if she crossed a line of what was appropriate, she could have been treated with more empathy and more patience.

The least we can do for a victim is give her 20 minutes of the court's time.

-- Samantha Swindler is a columnist for The Oregonian/Oregonlive

@editorswindler / 503-294-4031

sswindler@oregonian.com