Yes. Excuse me. Charges of grand larceny. Well I'm currently caught up in a case where there was allegedly some cash was stolen from a bank. They're accusing me of pulling out money from my account um that was stolen that I have no knowledge of the money being stolen and basically they're saying that I'm part of some organization that um steals money. Supposedly, I'm not sure. Actually it's um wiring money and funds. So some money was wired to me from a business partner and they're saying that I'm linked to funds that was being stolen from accounts. Basically I have no knowledge of any money being stolen. I just received money and it was in my account. So if I'm wrong for having possession of money in my account then so be it but I feel that legally I'm able to deposit any money that's given to me especially if it's a certified check and I'm not aware that any money is stolen or the bank is not informing me that the money was stolen and they're cashing my checks and allowing me to do my business transactions um without any uh stipulations of the checks or the money that is deposited in my into account as being stolen. I feel that if I do have money in my account and they are allowing me to make business transactions and um and so forth uh my accounting that I'm not guilty of any wrong doing especially if I'm not aware that any money is being transferred from a legal account that, that account that is being transferred from has no red flags or any that the accounts I'm acquiring money from is um being investigated on, so I feel that these charges that are, that I have acquired um is not actually my charges because as I've said this is my business, this is my account and for the District Attorney to accuse me of illegally acquiring these funds I feel is wrong because basically like I said I'm just doing my business as I do every day with my account as any American has done and and is continually doing um with day to day accounting with banks.
In Unguarded Moments, Defendants Spill Their Stories and Strike a Pose 
Ozier Muhammad/The New York TimesIn coming to Manhattan Criminal Court on an assault charge, Nina Montanez and her story became material for a blog created by the photographer Steven Hirsch.
The Manhattan Criminal Court building has featured a long parade of marquee malefactors, like Robert E. Chambers Jr. or Remy Ma, whose misdeeds have been exhaustively reported by the city’s newspapers and radio and television stations. But relatively little attention is paid to the supporting cast, who number in the tens of thousands.
So for the last few months Steven Hirsch, a freelance newspaper photographer, has been photographing and interviewing some of the unheralded defendants who pass through the court system and posting the results on a Web page, http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com
Mr. Hirsch transcribes recorded interviews, deleting his own questions, so that his subjects’ words are presented to readers in an uninterrupted flow. They talk about what sent them to court and ruminate on the legal systems or their own lives. Many of the interviews have an intimate and confessional tone, as people describe the transgressions they are accused of.
Upon consulting official court records, Mr. Hirsch has also found, perhaps unsurprisingly, that there are also defendants who appeared to leave out certain unsavory details.
Accuracy aside, Mr. Hirsch says that the narratives he is gathering are valuable because people are talking openly about experiences that most people know little about. “A lot of these people are from the underbelly of New York,” Mr. Hirsch said. “Most of us don’t know them and don’t know what their lives are like. We almost never hear their stories.”
On a recent morning Mr. Hirsch stood outside 100 Centre Street observing the machinery behind the criminal justice system creak into place. Court officers bought coffee at a sidewalk cart while detectives escorted a handcuffed man into the courthouse. A television cameraman hoping to glimpse a boxer who had been arrested on drug charges sat on a wall next to a woman wearing a black dress who nodded off while waiting for her boyfriend, who was also facing drug charges.
While watching a line of people passing through courthouse magnetometers, Mr. Hirsch catalogued the charges of the defendants he has documented: turnstile jumping, trespassing, shoplifting and assault are some. He has interviewed a man who described the fright and shock he felt while committing an armed robbery on Central Park West, and he has interviewed a self-proclaimed scam artist who said he didn’t feel bad about swindling people trying to buy contraband or bogus driver’s licenses because the items they were seeking were illegal.
“Most of the people coming in here, their stories are so interesting, so complex,” said Mr. Hirsch, who also takes photos for The New York Post. “Now that I’m paying attention to that, the courthouse has become a much richer experience.”
The blog chronicling defendants is Mr. Hirsch’s third art project to arise from a study of defendants. In the past he has photographed the homes of sex offenders for an exhibition at the Pratt Institute called “Love Thy Neighbor,” and photographed evidence used in the criminal trial of Peter Braunstein, including a gas mask Mr. Braunstein wore while making smoke bombs, a knife he used to menace a victim and a bright green, blue and red scan of Mr. Braunstein’s brain.
At about 10 a.m., the line at the courthouse door grew longer. A man wearing a red baseball cap and a black T-shirt with the words “Pimps Ahoy” above an illustration of chocolate chip cookies posed briefly for a picture but said that he was in too much of a rush to talk.
A few minutes later, a man named Juan Miranda walked out of the courthouse and told Mr. Hirsch that his troubles began when he was riding in a Maybach on Lenox Avenue with a group, including a friend who is a rapper. All those inside the car were arrested, Mr. Miranda said, and accused of conspiracy to commit murder and manslaughter and trafficking in narcotics. He denied the charges.
“They bum rushed all our houses and didn’t catch nothing,” he said. “But they tried to formulate a case.”
As the morning progressed, Mr. Hirsch photographed and interviewed Jerome Curry, who said that he had been arrested inside an abandoned building in Harlem with two crack pipes. “I like the high,” he explained. “It makes me feel numb.” He also documented the story of John Nunn, from Philadelphia, who said that he was arrested nearly four years ago while participating in demonstrations during the Republican National Convention in New York, and was getting a letter certifying that a judge had dismissed his charges.
One of the last defendants to leave the courthouse before the lunch break was Nina Montanez, 24, who was wearing a bright blue dress and carrying a backpack in a matching hue. She told Mr. Hirsch that a man on Amsterdam Avenue made a crude sexual remark and punched her, and that she responded by striking him in the head with her cellphone. The confrontation led to an assault charge for Ms. Montanez as well as a broken phone.
“I feel furious,” she said.
After Mr. Hirsch recorded Ms. Montanez’s story he invited her to walk down “the runway” — a handicapped ramp running alongside a granite courthouse wall bearing the words: “Why Should There Not Be a Patient Confidence in the Ultimate Justice of the People.”
Then, as an informal gallery made up of passers-by, court workers and fellow defendants assembled on Centre Street, Ms. Montanez strolled down the ramp, smiling and posing while Mr. Hirsch tracked her progress with his lens.
