When trying her first murder case as a young lawyer, U.S. District Judge Tanya S. Chutkan wondered if she could juggle the duties of a public defender with the responsibilities of parenthood. She remembers racing home after long days in court to feed her 9-month-old son and then heading to jail to meet with clients. Like all new parents, she lost a lot of sleep.
Chutkan had to reach inside for the motivation to keep going. “Remind yourself that you’re as qualified and as hard working, and as intelligent as anyone else,” she told herself. “Fall back on the skills that have gotten you here and get to work.”
In recognition of African American History Month, the federal judge shared her experiences at a program for public defense attorneys and members of the legal community. The Feb. 8 event was hosted by the Judiciary’s Defender Services Office, an organization dedicated to helping lawyers in the field as they defend individuals unable to afford a private lawyer.
When facing virulent criticism because of the color of her skin, Chutkan said it is difficult not to give in or be distracted. “For a lot of people, I seem to check a lot of boxes: immigrant, woman, Black, Asian. Your qualifications are always going to be subject to criticism and you have to develop a thick skin.”
She said she draws her strength from “the dignity and the brilliance” of Judge Constance Baker Motley and the many women lawyers who came before her. “They put their lives on the line every time they did their jobs and had to put up with far more than I have,” she said.
Chutkan grew up comfortably in Kingston, Jamaica, with a passion for dance. At that age, she never thought of becoming a lawyer, and certainly not a judge. But after leaving home to attend college at George Washington University, in Washington, D.C., she decided to try law school. Hard work helped propel her to a successful career as an attorney before she was appointed in 2014 to the U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia.
“I worked hard to get to where I am and took advantage of the opportunities presented to me,” Chutkan said. “But I understand the privilege and good fortune I’ve had. Many people don’t have the same opportunities.”
She encouraged audience members interested in judgeships to get involved in local bar organizations and said judges and law firms need to take a proactive approach in finding more diverse applicants. “The talent is there,” she said. “You just have to go look for it. You can’t simply wait for a more diverse pool of applicants to appear.”
The judge said she often encourages law students at outreach events to seek coveted clerkships and internships, opportunities that she said she was unfamiliar with as a law student. She said she enjoys engaging with young people and watching them grow in their personal and professional lives.
“Young people inspire me in their openness, in their tolerance, and in their desire to fight injustice,” she said. “I can’t let them down. I have to be an example to them.”
As a teenager, Taisha Sturdivant was a bright kid who loved to read, yet her circumstances conspired to limit her future prospects. Left homeless by the death of her mother, her only guardian, she drifted among relatives in Boston, got into fights at school, and tried her best to dodge the spasms of gang violence in her Roxbury neighborhood.
An opportunity with the District of Massachusetts federal court helped change Sturdivant’s trajectory. At the urging of a high school principal who recognized her promise, she enrolled in the district court’s Nelson Fellowship, a six-week interactive immersion in the justice system.
With the help of mentors she met through the Nelson program, and her own determination, Sturdivant eventually graduated from Brandeis University, cum laude, with a degree in urban education, and went on to earn a juris doctorate from Boston College Law School. Today, she is a real estate attorney specializing in affordable housing. She recently made the Massachusetts Lawyers Weekly’s Excellence in the Law list and the Super Lawyers Massachusetts’ Rising Stars list.
“Here I was this 16-year-old wearing patent leather blue heels, thinking that was the way to be dressed appropriately, and watching these judges really grapple with sentencing decisions,” Sturdivant said in a recent interview, laughing at the memory. “They took a chance on me. The fellowship changed so much for me in terms of my imagination of what I could accomplish. I started to envision myself as someone who could do anything. I could see myself going to college.”
The Nelson Fellowship is named for the late Judge David Sutherland Nelson, who was the first African American federal judge in Massachusetts. It is one of two programs that the District of Massachusetts hosts for talented students who face socioeconomic challenges. The district also runs a program for college students who are interested in law school. The pre-law Lindsay Fellowship was created in the memory of the late Judge Reginald C. Lindsay, an African American jurist who was actively involved in the Nelson program.
Court leaders say the two programs benefit the students, the court, and even society, by giving young people a behind-the-scenes look at the judicial process, by putting courts closer in touch with the communities affected by their decisions, and by contributing to a more diverse Massachusetts bar.
“The programs really affect students in important ways,” said Magistrate Judge Judith G. Dein, who helps run the Nelson and Lindsay Fellowships. “On a personal level, they experience a growth in confidence and they are supported in trying out different things. A lot of times they make lifetime friendships and support systems. And every chamber is richer by the end of the summer for having these students.”
Sturdivant and her two older siblings were raised by their divorced mother, who didn’t finish high school. The family was close, with regular Sunday visits to their grandmother’s house when the kids were little. As Sturdivant remembers, “I didn’t know that we didn’t have any money.”
Life took a harsh turn when Sturdivant’s mother died of lung cancer. She and her siblings managed to live on their own for a time in the family’s apartment, until the Social Security checks stopped and they were unable to pay the bills. “What little semblance of a safety net that I had was gone,” she said.
Sturdivant’s older siblings, still in their teens, were unable to care for her. Sympathetic relatives took her in for periods, but Sturdivant said she mostly “felt uncomfortable in homes that didn’t belong to me. I constantly felt I was overstaying my welcome.” To support herself, she worked at the counter at a Dunkin’ Donuts and held other jobs.
She had been especially close to her mother and struggled emotionally with the loss. Sturdivant managed to maintain good grades in school but acted out and was threatened with expulsion for chronic fighting.
Then, Sturdivant decided to honor her mother’s last wish for her by enrolling in Another Course to College, an academically challenging public high school in Boston for promising but struggling teens. There she got to know the first of her lifelong mentors and supporters, Jerry Howland, then the school’s headmaster.
“He said something like, ‘You’ve got a lot of negative energy balled up inside of you and you need to learn how to channel it in a more productive way.’ He was right.” Sturdivant said.
Howland too remembers the anger, but also Sturdivant’s precocious poise, intellectual ability, and courage. “She never complained. She had absolutely no self-pity about her situation,” he said. Howland involved Sturdivant in his mock trial class, and he urged her to apply for the Nelson Fellowship, which he knew of through outreach by the court to local high schools.
The fellowship is designed for Boston and Worcester public school students over six weeks in the summer. Twelve teens are assigned to judges’ chambers and observe the court at work, including hearings and sentencings. They take workshops in civil rights, public speaking, writing, financial literacy, and current social issues. They also meet community leaders and college administrators. There are opportunities for frank discussions among judges, guest speakers, and the students about race, law enforcement, sentencing policies, as well as other topical issues on the students’ minds.
Sturdivant initially was skeptical, not an uncommon feeling among the students, many of whom have friends and relatives who’ve had personal experience with the justice system.
“I’d been exposed to violent crime, saw friends and loved ones incarcerated. Other folks I knew were victims who did not receive justice. I think I had a very warped perception of the system,” she said. “I didn’t think it was fair and I didn’t think it was equitable. I didn’t take the internship and suddenly love the system.”
The thing that eventually impressed her, she said, was observing judges grapple with difficult sentencing decisions and spend hours on research and writing in pursuit of fair outcomes in their cases. Sturdivant discovered, “There were these incredibly hard-working people very dedicated to justice.”
District Judge Patti B. Saris became one of her role models. Judge Saris makes a practice of having lunch with her Nelson Fellows. She assigns them challenging tasks such as preparing for mock appellate arguments or drafting summaries of her cases. She talks with them about colleges and the application process.
Judge Saris says the court gets as much from the fellows as they get from the judges and teachers in the program.
“It’s a success on every level,” she said. “The students are hugely helpful to me, in terms of what I learn about their points of view, what’s happening in their communities and with their families.”
In the Lindsay Fellowship program, six students are selected with the help of organizations such as Bottom Line, Posse, and Summer Search, community-based organizations that recruit first-generation college students. The fellows spend half of the summer interning in chambers and taking intensive classes in legal research and writing and public speaking, aimed at helping them get through the difficult first year of law school.
In the second half of the program, they are assigned jobs in the Federal Public Defender Office, in the U.S. Attorney’s Office, or with U.S. Probation and Pretrial Services. Students working in pretrial and probation might interview clients, run record searches, or help write up reports. In the prosecutor and defender offices, they help with cite-checking and preparation for trials.
Judge Dein said, “The offices have gotten more comfortable with the program; it’s been an evolutionary process. It’s gotten to the point now where they say, ‘We need them this summer, we’re counting on their work.’”
Although not every Nelson and Lindsay participant pursues a career in law, there are now about 350 alumni working in professions throughout the Boston area and elsewhere. They work in law firms, the courts, city hall, and state legislative offices. Some are in business, others are teaching.
Both programs pay the students a modest stipend, and they also pay a stipend to two teachers in the Nelson program and three in the Lindsay Fellowship. Once they become college sophomores, former Nelson Fellows are often recruited to help run the program as student coordinators.
Judge Dein said that it’s important that the students and coordinators are paid, in order to attract those who have to work during the summers to support themselves or help support their families.
Sturdivant, who was both a Nelson and Lindsay fellow, said she would never have been able to participate in the programs without the stipends the court provided. She considers it a wise investment in helping to diversify the legal profession.
“The truth is, representation matters, access to information matters, role models matter,” Sturdivant said. “And the fact is that the legal profession is not very diverse, which is really discouraging. It’s hard for people to even envision themselves in this space, much less take all the steps it takes to get here. It definitely helps to have people rooting for you, for people to have your back, people who look like you, to help you succeed.”
Sturdivant recently began teaching the rigorous research and writing course for the Lindsay fellows during the summer. Attorney Alexis Smith Hamdan, who developed and taught the course for 12 years, said, “It was always my hope that I would to be able to pass the torch to one of our fellows. Taisha has all of the attributes necessary to teach this rigorous program, so I was elated when she expressed her willingness to take on this important role.”
Howland, Sturdivant’s former headmaster who also now teaches in the Nelson program, has remained a friend and confidante. He was the one she counted on to drive her to campus after she received a scholarship to attend Brandeis, nine miles from Boston. She felt fortunate to finally have a place of her own, even if it was a dormitory room that she paid for by working for the college.
Picking her up for a visit home once, Howland was struck by the decor that Sturdivant chose for inspiration on her dorm wall. It wasn’t a poster of a musician or an actor or a celebrity of any kind, except to Sturdivant. It was a photograph of Judge Nelson.
After more than a year of working to conduct justice in the face of a global pandemic, federal courts are being buffeted by omicron, whose rapid speed of transmission is making jury trials more vulnerable to COVID-19 interruptions.
The Southern District of New York this week delayed a libel trial involving Sarah Palin and the New York Times, after learning that the former vice-presidential candidate had tested positive for COVID-19. The district is not alone. Many courts across the country are dealing with the challenge of last-minute COVID-19 diagnoses as they work to resume or sustain jury trials.
“It makes it much more difficult to do a longer trial,” said Chief Judge John R. Tunheim, of the District of Minnesota. In Tunheim’s court, “one judge just pushed off a two-week civil trial till later in the spring because of omicron. It’s spreading so fast right now that it is causing more difficulties for all of us.”
While omicron appears to be less deadly than earlier coronavirus variants, it is far more contagious than the original COVID-19 strain, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Much as omicron has disrupted air travel, schools, and other enterprises, it is difficult to plan a multi-week trial when an illness to a juror, lawyer, defendant, or witness can halt proceedings.
The District of Maryland has suspended jury trials until mid-February in response to the surge in COVID-19 cases. One trial that had been underway for eight weeks was temporarily suspended.
“The trial was paused as we waited for a defendant to recover from COVID,” said Chief Judge James K. Bredar, of the District of Maryland. “But, during that pause, a juror turned up positive.”
In recent weeks, jury trials have been postponed by district courts in the District of Columbia, Connecticut, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Jersey, Ohio-Northern, California-Central, and California-Northern.
Other courts are taking precautions when scheduling jury trials. Except for a trial that began this week for three Minneapolis police officers, charged with violating civil rights in the death of George Floyd, the District of Minnesota is scheduling trials that last just a day or two. In the officers’ trial, six alternate jurors have been selected, an unusually large number.
The Southern District of New York, which also is trying former lawyer Michael Avenatti on theft charges, is on the alert for omicron, said District Executive Edward Friedland.
“If someone from one of the parties has been exposed, is symptomatic or is COVID positive, the start of the case will be delayed based on public health guidance and courthouse guidelines,” Friedland said. “In terms of jurors, most judges are selecting more alternates than usual in case of an issue with one during the trial.”
New York-Southern has held more than 100 jury trials since the start of the pandemic. It has relied on an aggressive, multi-pronged safety effort.
Court visitors and staff must authenticate their health and pass in front of a non-contact digital thermometer before entering the courthouse. Lawyers and their clients use two-way communication devices to avoid whispering to each other in court. Jury boxes and jury deliberation rooms have been expanded, and strict mask requirements are in place.
Most courthouses have been “remarkably effective at stopping any transmission of COVID in the workplace,” said Erin Bromage, a professor of biology at the University of Massachusetts Dartmouth who advises 11 federal court units. Courts have done so by using such tools as masking, social distancing, and regulating building air flow to bring in more fresh air from the outdoors.
With omicron, “if 10 percent of the general population is infected at any given time, in a typical jury, chances are, one of those people is infected,” Bromage said. “We’ve had to think much more carefully how to continue. Do we have enough alternate jurors? Talking to counsel, can your second chair cover you if you’re out?”
A key vulnerability in the courtroom involves judges, lawyers, and witnesses, who typically must speak without masks during a trial. In the Southern District of New York, the court is putting lawyers and witnesses in enclosed plexiglass booths with special high-performance air filters.
As transmission escalates, some courts are stepping up rapid testing of anyone who must speak without a mask during a trial. Court staffs and trial participants also are being instructed to report any symptoms that might signal COVID-19.
“Especially in the last six or eight weeks, it’s been, ‘If you’re sick, or a member of your household is sick, don’t come in. Wait till you have a negative test,’” Bromage said. “That puts up a firewall around the court.”
Nora Tyer-Witek, clerk of court for the District of Rhode Island, said federal courts across the country have scrambled to get rapid-testing kits for court staff. Her court has received tests from Rhode Island state health authorities, and they have helped protect the health of the staff and the public.
“Frequent testing allows our judges near 100 percent confidence that if they allow attorneys or witnesses to go without masks during the presentation of evidence, for example, that a spread of the virus is unlikely to occur,” she said. “That is a great relief, and we have heard very positive feedback from jurors as well.”
Vietnam War protester Mary Beth Tinker has a message for young people who are worried about the state of the world: “Speak up about what is important to you.”
Tinker, whose landmark First Amendment case was decided by the Supreme Court in 1969, wore an armband to school to mourn the dead on both sides of the Vietnam War. Today, as she prepares for a Bill of Rights Day ceremony, she says she feels like wearing it again. This time in solidarity with the sadness of all students affected by gun violence.
“The First Amendment can save lives,” Tinker said. “Justice Hugo Black, who dissented in Tinker v. Des Moines, may have said that ‘children go to school to learn – not teach’ but students have a lot to teach the adults in their life. How to cope and survive in stressful times; how to keep growing and entertaining new ideas; how to incorporate new concepts into our thinking; and how to allow ourselves to change.”
To mark the anniversary of the Bill of Rights, on Dec. 15, Tinker will participate virtually in a ceremony prior to installing the armband in its temporary home in The Judicial Learning Center at the Thomas F. Eagleton U.S. Courthouse in St. Louis. Tinker’s family moved to St. Louis, where the Eighth Circuit Court of Appeals heard the case before it went to the Supreme Court.
The court also is hosting a free webinar for students and their teachers facilitated by Street Law. The program, sponsored by the Eighth Circuit, the U.S. District Court for the Eastern District of Missouri, and The Judicial Learning Center in St. Louis, features a discussion with Tinker on student speech related to her armband case and a more recent case involving a cheerleader’s post on Snapchat.
The first 10 Amendments to the U.S. Constitution are called the Bill of Rights. The document was ratified on Dec. 15, 1791, and President Franklin D. Roosevelt designated the date to be celebrated annually as Bill of Rights Day in 1941.
When asked about the 2021 Supreme Court’s decision in Mahanoy Area School District v. B. L., commonly referred to as the cheerleader Snapchat case, Tinker said, “It was important for B.L. to express herself.” The case dealt with a cheerleader’s expression of disappointment when she was not selected for the cheerleading squad at her high school in Mahanoy City, Pennsylvania.
“Some people say that B.L.’s expression wasn’t important compared to ours about the Vietnam War, but as a nurse who has worked with teens for many years, I believe it is important for young people to express themselves about issues affecting their lives, whether it’s cheerleading, climate change, school lunches, or race relations,” Tinker said.
Tinker, who now lives in Washington, D.C., acknowledges that speaking up is not without risk. “I was nervous and scared, but I spoke up anyway,” she said. “We can do brave things even when we don’t feel brave.” Although she received death threats and her family received bomb threats, “the risk was worth it.”
She said that when young people voice their values, they can ignite lifelong friendships, deepen attachments to their school, and establish ties in their communities.
“You never know what the positive ripple effects of your actions might be,” Tinker said. “Even when your efforts don’t achieve the results you want, if you don’t let your setbacks defeat or define you, you’ve still won by being part of a global and historical movement of young people changing their personal circumstances and the global community for the better.”
Society hasn’t always had an easy time understanding Judge Ada E. Brown’s multiracial heritage. Born to a white mother and Black father, both with Native American roots, she said people were often perplexed when encountering her multiracial family.
“On numerous occasions, while growing up, people assumed that when I was with my mother and/or my father that we were not all together,” Brown said. “It’s a strange feeling to have a hostess try to seat you separately when you’re out for lunch with your mom or dad. All in all, I think the experiences I had growing up helped make me more attuned to different cultures and shaped my passion for helping others.”
Brown is the first woman of African American heritage to serve as a district judge in the Northern District of Texas, in the over 140-year history of the court. She also is one of just a handful of individuals with Native American ancestry to ever become a federal judge. Inspiration from her mentors, and seeing others with similar backgrounds do great things, encouraged Brown to dream big.
“I have been lucky to have had many mentors in my life,” she said. “My mentors come from all races, ages, and backgrounds. I have learned to listen, watch, and grow from the stories of my mentors and from their advice. I credit my success, in large part, to following the sound advice of my mentors.”
In observance of Native American Heritage Month, Brown reflected on her experiences growing up in a racially and culturally diverse family.
A member of the Choctaw Nation, from her mother’s side, Brown attended pow wows and other tribal events as a child and is still involved with the tribe today.
However, her father’s tribe, the Muscogee (Creek) Nation, no longer recognizes her family as members. Even though the family can trace its history back to when they were enslaved by a Creek Indian, the tribe revoked membership for former slaves in 1979.
“I grew up with my father making all the traditional Creek meals and even speaking some Creek,” Brown said. “It was mindboggling for me to learn how his membership could be revoked after generations of shared culture.”
In the 1970s, interracial marriages were still very uncommon, so her parents prepared her from an early age for the possible bigotry she might face due to her heritage. They also shared stories about the challenges they faced as a couple, and the opportunities that were withheld from her father because of the color of his skin.
“My dad worried that I’d face the same kind of hate that he had faced growing up in the segregated South,” Brown said. “His concerns only encouraged me to work that much harder. I was determined not to let anyone decide what I could and couldn’t do.”
The high-achieving Brown was intent on making every one of her aspirations a reality. She was captain of her high school dance team, was elected class president twice, became fluent in both French and Spanish, and graduated as a valedictorian. After high school, she graduated with high honors from Spelman College, and earned a law degree from Emory University.
She went on to have a successful career as both a civil and criminal litigator, and as a Texas trial court judge and an appellate judge, before being confirmed to the federal bench in 2019.
Brown is proud to continue in her family’s long history of service in the law. One of her ancestors was a Choctaw Lighthorseman, a roving law enforcement officer for the tribal government. Another relative worked as a court reporter in an Oklahoma state court. And that court reporter’s son became a state district judge in New Mexico.
“I feel honored, and proud to serve on the federal bench,” she said. “I make sure to show respect to everyone that comes before the court. Whatever the outcome of a case, I want both parties to feel that they had a fair trial and that their stories were heard.”
On occasion, Brown has seen the ugliness of racism firsthand. She was once refused service while dining with her African American sorority sisters in Georgia and had an elderly state judge in New Mexico use a Black racial slur in front of her, not realizing that she was of African American heritage.
“There are still problems in the world, but things are definitely better than they used to be,” Brown said. “My dad had it much harder; he faced more overt racism and segregation than I have. I’m thankful for the all the changes that have taken place since my father’s experience growing up in the 1950s. Those changes have helped me get to where I am.”
Today, when Brown isn’t hearing cases on the federal bench in Dallas, she spends her time mentoring young people through internships that she offers to high school, college, and law students.
“It was my mentor Doris Downs, a Georgia superior court judge, that really made me feel that being a judge was within my reach,” Brown said. “It was great to see a brilliant woman doing justice each day. I hope when young people see me and talk to me, they know they too can become a judge someday, or whatever else they dream to be.”
Brown frequently invites the children of courthouse staff to meet her in person. She talks to the children she meets about their aspirations and has them don her robe to see what it feels like to sit on the bench.
“I think it is one of my many roles as a judge to help inspire the next generation,” Brown said. “Young people need to believe they really can achieve their dreams, and sometimes hearing someone in my position say, ‘You can do it’ makes all the difference.”
Every Nov. 11, America honors the veterans who served this nation. Within the federal Judiciary, many judges have a special link to one part of the military: the Judge Advocate General’s Corps — better known to many as JAG.
The JAG Corps provides judges, prosecutors, and defense lawyers to administer the U.S. military justice system, whose roots date back to the Revolutionary War. More than 65 federal judges (about a quarter of all federal judges with military experience) list time in JAG.
Five veterans share their memories of the JAG Corps:
In interviews, four federal judges and one high-ranking Judiciary official also said the JAG Corps transformed their legal careers, giving them exceptional responsibility and mentorship when they were barely out of law school.
“I tried unbelievable trials, and got fantastic experience in JAG,” said Judge Royce C. Lamberth, of the U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia. He tried 300 cases, including many in combat zones in Vietnam.
Everyone interviewed said their JAG experience shaped their values and legal career.
“I loved putting on that uniform. It humbled me every time I did it,” said Judge Stephanie L. Haines, of the Western District of Pennsylvania. “It was just the honor of a lifetime to say that I supported and was a very small part of the military in service to our country.”
John S. Cooke, Director of the Federal Judicial Center
Few Americans have greater insight into the military and civilian justice systems than John S. Cooke. To his own surprise, he rose to brigadier general and the top U.S. Army JAG Corps lawyer in Europe, and today he is director of the Federal Judicial Center, which conducts research and training for the federal Judiciary.
Cooke says the mission of the Army and that of the justice system go hand in hand.
“If people were perfect, we wouldn’t need law and we wouldn’t need armies,” Cooke said. “The army’s mission is to fight the nation’s wars and defend the country. But an unstated part of that mission is to do so in ways that are consistent with the law. If we don’t do that, then what we are defending is going to fall apart from within.”
A self-described amateur historian, Cooke notes that America’s military justice system dates back to the Revolutionary War. Since 1950, the military justice system has been governed by the Uniform Code of Military Justice. While the system has many parallels to the civilian justice system, especially in the areas of rules of evidence and standard of proof, there are distinct differences.
Commanding officers bring charges, convene jurors, and can reduce or even commute sentences. Personnel can be charged with such violations as insubordination or malingering.
When he entered the JAG Corps during the Vietnam War, Cooke recalled, “I had a three-year obligation, and my intent was to serve three years and zero minutes.”
Once in, he met young lawyers like himself, and supervisors steered him to a succession of challenging assignments. He became a teacher at the JAG school in Charlottesville, Virginia, then a military judge in Germany.
“It was one thing after another, where I had great bosses who gave me opportunities, which led to attractive job offers,” Cooke said. “I just sort of thought, I’ll do a couple of more years. Pretty soon it was a career.”
Army life surprised him in another way. His bosses cared about his well-being and that of his family. “I had seen the Army as a kind of a tough macho organization with cigar-chomping colonels,” Cooke said. “It really was a much more caring organization than a lot of corporations. That has carried with me.”
By the time Cooke left the Army and joined the FJC, in 1998, he had served as the chief judge of the U.S. Army Court of Criminal Appeals. But one of his favorite memories involved an enlisted man who lost his case and was sentenced to prison time in Fort Leavenworth and a bad-conduct discharge.
“After the trial, he told me he wanted to get back on active duty,” Cooke said. “My first thought was it’s a little late to be thinking about that now.”
But Cooke did some research and found there was a way to get a sentence remitted. He explained the process to his client, telling him that it started by being a model prisoner. A few years later, Cooke saw the defendant’s name in an Army Times newspaper article. The headline: “From Court Martial to Soldier of the Month.”
“If you hope to win a lot of acquittals, you’re going to be frustrated, but sometimes you can do a greater service in a different way,” Cooke said. “He did the work; I just did the research. But it was one of my prouder moments.”
Judge Stephanie L. Haines
U.S. District Judge Stephanie L. Haines, of the Western District of Pennsylvania, had no military tradition in her family, and as a second-year law student, she had zero expectation of signing up. That changed when a fellow law student invited a group of friends to hear a JAG Corps recruiter before they went out to dinner.
Sitting in a law school auditorium, Haines quietly became transfixed. “I thought, oh my gosh, this is exactly what I want to do,” she recalled. “It’s an opportunity to serve my country. This is where I really see myself.”
Haines was assigned to Fort Campbell, home of the 101st Airborne Division. “I was told, ‘You’re getting ready to enter the oldest, largest, and best law firm in the world’,” she said.
At 8:30 a.m., she was at her desk practicing law. But at 6:30 a.m., she was doing daily physical training like any other soldier.
“We were doing flutter kicks in the mud, running in formation, singing cadence, like what you see on TV,” Haines said. “I was rappelling out of helicopters. You were a lawyer, but you also had to perform well as a military officer.”
Like other JAG lawyers, her first assignment was providing basic legal assistance, such as drafting wills, for soldiers and their families. She next served as a prosecutor, then as a lawyer handling defense appeals. “I can’t say enough great things about the Army JAG Corps and the opportunities they gave me,” Haines said.
After she left full-time duty in 2002, Haines continued as a reserve while she worked as an assistant U.S. attorney, and later transferred to the Air Force reserve. Haines retired as a colonel in 2019, when she became a federal judge.
She remains moved by the spirit she saw, especially among young teenage recruits ready to sacrifice their lives.
“I will say that the 24 and a half years I wore a uniform were absolutely the pleasure and honor of a lifetime,” Haines said. “I was able to serve with true American heroes. People who everyday were duty bound, were loyal, were selfless, courageous men and women who wore that uniform and were willing to lay down their lives in a heartbeat, in defense of their country and in defense of the freedoms we all treasure.”
Judge Royce C. Lamberth
U.S. District Judge Royce C. Lamberth freely admits he had no interest in joining the JAG Corps. Yet it led to his favorite job ever — and no, he does not mean his current position as a federal judge in the District of Columbia.
Lamberth was drafted in 1967, just as he was graduating from law school. He was reluctant to accept JAG’s required four-year commitment until he realized he was headed for infantry duty. “It was the height of the Vietnam War. Suddenly the JAG Corps didn’t look so bad,” he said.
While the country and the Army were under growing strain, Lamberth found the JAG Corps to be a young lawyer’s dream. “I ended up getting unbelievable experience in JAG. My first trial was a first-degree murder trial. I tried 300 cases in JAG, including six murder trials. I loved my time in JAG Corps, after going in kicking and screaming.”
He did not avoid Vietnam, however. After starting at U.S. installations, Lamberth eventually served in Cam Ranh Bay and the Mekong Delta. The bases were shelled at night, and most days, Lamberth flew by helicopter to hold trials in advance fire bases in hostile territory. It led to extraordinary pressures on the military prosecutor and judge, who flew with Lamberth to the fire bases.
“At the end of the day, you would want to get on the last chopper out. By 4:30, you would stipulate to just about any testimony,” Lamberth said. “You did not want to be on the fire base overnight. Sometimes the fire base could get overrun and everybody would be killed or wounded.”
Lamberth re-upped when his four years ended. At the Pentagon, he joined the litigation division for cases involving the Army in federal court. The unit helped shape new law — including a Supreme Court case that upheld disciplinary actions for behavior unbecoming of an officer. He also persuaded federal courts to uphold the administrative discharges of all soldiers involved in the My Lai massacre.
“These were tremendous cases,” Lamberth said. “It was the best job I ever had, to this day.”
Appointed to the federal bench in 1987, Lamberth presided over the trial of Blackwater Security contractors accused of killing 14 Iraqi civilians in 2007. He sees a close tie between the military’s mission of defending our country and the Judiciary’s mission of upholding the law.
“It’s very important to civil society that we play by the rules and hold ourselves to a higher standard,” Lamberth said. “And we as a country have to do that. I thought it important in Blackwater, I thought it important in My Lai. We as a country, on Veterans Day in particular, need to be proud of what we’ve done.”
Judge Carlos E. Mendoza
U.S. District Judge Carlos E. Mendoza, who serves in the Middle District of Florida, is a first-generation son of naturalized citizens, whose father immigrated from Colombia and whose mother came from Honduras.
Mendoza enlisted in the Marine Corps after high school, serving in Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm. When he graduated from law school in 1997, he entered the Navy JAG Corps.
“I had a desire to continue serving,” said Mendoza, adding that his parents’ example prepared him for the military’s discipline and service ethic. “Growing up we were always reminded that in this country, unlike almost anywhere else in the world, ambition, hard work, and drive dictate what heights you will reach.”
The JAG Corps proved to be a tremendous platform for Mendoza’s legal career. “The mentoring of young attorneys/officers is second to none,” he said. “I was impressed that they not only wanted us to become capable attorneys, but honorable people, as well.”
Mendoza does have some criticisms of the military justice system, saying it is tilted against defendants. Commanding officers can bring charges and choose the jury, and only a two-thirds jury majority is needed to convict.
Nonetheless, “my time in the Marine Corps and Navy JAG Corps offered some of the most important lessons of my life,” Mendoza said. “I would not have arrived where I am at now, professionally or personally, had I not had the privilege of walking in the shadows of the many great men and women who gave me their time, friendship, and advice.”
Mendoza sees a close connection between his military service and his duties as a judge. “Lady Justice wears a blindfold for a reason,” he said. “Many men and women have risked and even sacrificed their lives to ensure that the blindfold remains intact.”
He remains grateful for what his military service gave him.
“I am the proud son of working poor immigrants that devoted their entire lives to their children,” Mendoza said. “Considering my humble beginnings, I have no business serving as a United States district judge, except of course in this political experiment of ours, an experiment certainly worth fighting for.”
Judge Carl E. Stewart
Judge Carl E. Stewart, of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit, received his entire elementary and secondary education in segregated schools.
“It was just a tough time. I was growing up in a period with a lot of hatred,” Stewart recalled. “In school, we often had substandard equipment and books. I had hope that things would get better, but there was no real evidence they would get better.”
Stewart entered law school during the Vietnam war era. After learning that his low draft number would probably result in him being drafted while he was in law school, Stewart joined the Reserve Officers’ Training Corps. By graduating and passing the bar on his first try, he was able to join the JAG Corps as a captain, instead of as a second lieutenant in the regular Army.
“Suffice it to say, I had a lot of incentive to study hard,” Stewart said.
Like other JAG Corps veterans, Stewart was quickly thrown into representing clients. Among his clients at Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio were soldiers in a severe-burn unit.
“I was a 24-year-old lawyer, green as the uniform,” Stewart recalled. “It was a growing up experience. There was no time to be nervous, no time to be scared.”
All JAG lawyers are officers; prosecutors and defense lawyers both wear the same uniforms, which sometimes posed a challenge, Stewart explained.
“You’re talking to a 19-year-old kid and saying anything you say to me is confidential. And that kid says, ‘How can I trust you if you have the same uniform on as the prosecutor?’,” Stewart recalled. “I’m thinking, ‘They didn’t teach me in law school how to cross this bridge.’”
The experience taught him a self-confidence that transformed his career. After the Army, he became a federal prosecutor and was encouraged to seek election as a Louisiana trial judge at age 35.
“I received an extremely valuable lesson in learning about preparation, professionalism, and presenting yourself,” Stewart said. “When I ran for judge, I knew that I could do the job.”
After later becoming a state appellate judge, Stewart was appointed to the U.S. Court of Appeals in 1994. In 2019, he received the federal Judiciary’s highest honor, the Edward J. Devitt Distinguished Service to Justice Award. “I was speechless,” he recalled.
For all his achievements, Stewart says providing service to the burn victims remains one of his greatest satisfactions.
“It drilled into me that being a lawyer is a service profession,” Stewart said. “Mine was a small part, but to know you brought satisfaction to these soldiers and their families, I can’t measure that.”
He added: “I’m proud to be a veteran. I really am. It’s a part of who I am, not just a period of time in my life. I have a flag on my house and it’s flying every day. I have great respect for our country and the honor of those who served.”
Judge Julia Smith Gibbons, former budget chair for the U.S. Judicial Conference who was a pioneering woman judge in her home state of Tennessee, is the recipient of the 2021 Edward J. Devitt Distinguished Service to Justice Award. Gibbons serves on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit.
The Devitt Award honors an Article III judge who has achieved a distinguished career and made significant contributions to the administration of justice, the advancement of the rule of law, and the improvement of society as a whole.
Recipients are chosen by a committee of federal judges, which this year was chaired by U.S. Supreme Court Justice Neil M. Gorsuch and included Judge Thomas M. Hardiman, of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Third Circuit, and Judge Christine M. Arguello, of the District of Colorado.
“Judge Julia Gibbons is a trailblazer and role model in the legal profession,” Gorsuch said in a statement. “In addition to discharging her judicial duties, for nearly 30 years Judge Gibbons has also played a vital role in the governance and administration of the federal judiciary nationwide.”
Gibbons grew up in the rural Tennessee town of Pulaski. She received a Bachelor of Arts degree from Vanderbilt University in 1972 and a law degree from the University of Virginia School of Law three years later. In 1981, she became the first female trial judge in the state of Tennessee.
Two years later, she was appointed to the U.S. District Court for the Western District of Tennessee. At 32, she was the youngest U.S. district court judge in the country. Gibbons was nominated by President George W. Bush to the Sixth Circuit in 2001 and received her commission in July 2002.
As a federal judge, Gibbons was chair of the U.S. Judicial Conference’s Budget Committee from 2004 to 2018, and of the Judicial Resources Committee from 1994-1999. She also was a member of the Judicial Panel on Multidistrict Litigation. Gibbons testified 16 times before Congress in her role as Budget Committee chair.
“I am honored to receive the 2021 Devitt Award,” Gibbons said. “I am humbled that the selection committee and others believed me worthy of this recognition.”
Gibbons added, “Serving with federal judicial colleagues and staff for the past 38 years, as we have conducted trials, decided cases, and done the work of judiciary governance, has given me great faith in the federal courts as an institution. Given this context, being the representative of the Third Branch to receive the Award this year is deeply meaningful.”
Because of the coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic, the normal full-scale reception and award presentation at the U.S. Supreme Court will not be held this year. Instead, a special dinner is planned for next year in honor of Gibbons and Judge Rya W. Zobel, of the District of Massachusetts, who received the award in 2020.
The Devitt Award is named for the late Edward J. Devitt, longtime chief judge of the U.S. District Court for the District of Minnesota. The award is sponsored by the Dwight D. Opperman Foundation.
“Women judges have risen to the top,” said Julie Opperman, Chairman of the Dwight D. Opperman Foundation. “I remember asking Dwight more than a decade ago, why only men got the award. He replied that women haven’t been on the bench long enough to achieve the lifetime status that is required. Well, I am very pleased to say that the women have earned their stripes and are receiving their long overdue recognition.”
Cuauhtemoc Ortega grew up in the working-class neighborhood of La Puente in Los Angeles County, where people he knew sometimes struggled through negative encounters with law enforcement and immigration officials. Now, he leads the Federal Public Defender’s Office representing La Puente and the greater Los Angeles area.
“In our clients, I see myself, my family, my friends, and my neighbors,” Ortega said. “Being able to show our clients compassion is critical in gaining their trust and providing them with the very best representation.”
Ortega made history a year ago by becoming the first Mexican American to head a federal defender office. The Office of the Federal Public Defender for the Central District of California has the nation’s largest federal defender office and encompasses seven counties with a population of over 19 million people.
His father, an immigrant from Mexico, came to California with little money in 1978. He worked various jobs until years later he earned a truck driving license. With steady work as a truck driver for a roofing company, he was able to buy a home for his family.
“My dad taught me the value of hard work,” Ortega said. “I admire the example he and my mom set for me and his courage to leave everything he knew behind and create stability here in the U.S. for our family.”
Ortega is proud of his Mexican heritage. In observance of Hispanic Heritage Month, which runs from Sept. 15 to Oct. 15, he emphasized the need for greater representation of the Hispanic community in the legal field, as well as mentorship for those growing up in underserved communities.
“Many of our clients in the community are Mexican Americans, and it’s important that our office, the criminal defense bar, and the justice system at large reflect the diversity of the public it serves,” he said.
The oldest of three siblings, Ortega was the first in his family to go to college. He attended the University of California, Los Angeles, and then Columbia Law School. Mentors and teachers in high school and college aided Ortega in his journey to a career in law.
“I can see in retrospect why so many people in my high school didn’t go to college. It can seem like an unattainable goal, especially if you don’t have support from someone who is knowledgeable about the process,” Ortega said. “I’m thankful that my teachers and counselors invested time in guiding me through the college application and financial aid process.”
Upon finishing law school, Ortega became intrigued by public criminal defense law while observing court proceedings during his clerkship with the late Judge Alicemarie Huber Stotler, of the Central District of California, in 2007-2008.
“I was struck by the passion and professionalism that defenders exuded while presenting in court,” he said. “Now I, too, get to fulfill the constitutional promises owed to those in need. I take an enormous amount of pride and responsibility in my work and push myself to be my very best and stay engaged with the communities we serve.”
Joining the defender office in 2010 as a deputy federal public defender in the Orange County division, Ortega acquired a valued mentor in Amy Karlin, then chief of that division, who taught him important lessons in trying cases and presenting in front of a jury. Honing his skills, Ortega moved through the ranks and eventually became chief deputy federal public defender in 2019.
“Cuauhtemoc’s diverse background has shaped his values and given him an understanding of the challenges the community we serve face,” said Karlin, who is now the Central District’s chief deputy federal public defender. “As a line attorney, he put the clients first by vigorously litigating their cases and treating everyone with respect and kindness. Now as the leader of the office, he ensures that every employee does the same.”
Appointed to head the office during the global pandemic, Ortega had to navigate uncharted territory as the coronavirus posed unprecedented threats to clients’ safety and constitutional rights. The right to counsel for those who cannot afford an attorney is guaranteed under the Sixth Amendment and the Criminal Justice Act.
“The past year has brought many challenges to our office, requiring that we develop solutions that both keep our clients’ cases moving forward while also keeping everyone safe in the process,” Ortega said. “I am honored and humbled that I get to lead an office fervently committed to providing our clients with the highest quality representation even when faced with daunting obstacles.”
Today, Ortega tries to pay his mentorships forward by meeting with students in underrepresented communities, through collaborations with local area bar associations and high schools.
“It’s always rewarding to see students I’ve worked with begin their own careers in the law,” Ortega said. “I hope that by getting into the classroom and working with students, I can help answer some of their questions about higher education and show them that a career in law is possible for them too.”
On Sept. 28, Collins Fitzpatrick will retire as Circuit Executive of the Seventh Circuit U.S. Court of Appeals, after 50 years of service in the federal Judiciary. In 1976, Fitzpatrick was appointed as the Seventh Circuit’s first executive, five years after Congress created the position. He is by far the longest-serving circuit executive in the federal court system.
After he announced his planned retirement earlier this year, Chief Judge Diane S. Sykes said Fitzpatrick “has been a true pioneer in this position.”
“He has served the 15 courts in our circuit with great dedication and throughout enormous operational changes in the administration of the federal courts. He has provided continuity and support as our Judiciary has grown and changed,” Sykes added. “As he retires, he takes with him our lasting appreciation, admiration, and affection.”
Fitzpatrick, who worked in Chicago, reflects on his career and the circuit he served.
Q: Why did you first join the Seventh Circuit, and how did that evolve into your current role as circuit executive?
My second and third years of law school, I provided civil legal aid services to individuals in need. Upon graduation from Harvard Law School in 1969, I received the Reginald Heber Smith Community Lawyer Fellowship to work in legal aid services. After two years, I was one of the most senior lawyers and I was not developing my research and writing skills. In 1971, I applied for and received a one-year law clerkship from Seventh Circuit Judge Roger Kiley. That seemed like a better position to develop my skills than an offer I had received to edit a tax journal in The Hague.
There were no staff attorneys in the Court of Appeals, so half of my law clerk work was on Judge Kiley’s decisions and half of my time was working for all the circuit judges on procedural and substantive motions, mandamus petitions, and pro se appeals. Chief Judge Luther Swygert then asked me to be his law clerk and administrative assistant the next year. I went home and told my wife Mary that this position would postpone my career decision for another year. In retrospect, Chief Judge Swygert was considering me before I ever knew of the Circuit Executive Act. In 1975, I was appointed as the first Senior Law Clerk (Senior Staff Attorney) for the Seventh Circuit.
In those days you could only be appointed circuit executive if you were approved by a Board of Certification composed of five members. In 1976, I was certified by the Board and then appointed by the Judicial Council. For about the first 10 years, I was the youngest circuit executive in the country.
Q: Name some ways the Seventh Circuit has changed since 1971.
A federal statute authorized the chief circuit judge to review judicial disability and misconduct complaints and consider informal complaints. Also, the judicial councils and the courts of appeals began appointing bankruptcy judges to 14-year terms. This led to a tremendous improvement in the quality of those judges.
Technology made life better and more efficient by making it easier to edit opinions and providing multiple access to documents, such as the docket sheet. As a law clerk, I wondered whether I should ask the secretary to retype the opinion to correct my error. There was only one typed copy of the docket sheet, so it was a problem when it could not be found. Thank goodness for the word processor and electronic files.
Q: What are some central functions of a circuit executive?
Circuit executives make sure that the courts are all operating very well. If they are, then there is less to do for everyone.
The hardest task is telling a judge that the judge has an aging problem or other problem interfering with his or her judicial work. Or that lawyers or staff think that the judge has a problem, even if the judge does not think so. Judges have asked me why should the circuit executive do that? The reason is that often no one else is doing it. All judges and staff need to tell the problem judge that the judge has no clothes. We all need to make sure that (1) the litigants have a fully functioning judge, (2) the court maintains a great reputation for the quality of its decisions, and (3) a judge who has served the public for many years retires with her or his head held high.
Q: Did you know early on that you wanted to make this a lifetime position? What did you most enjoy about the job?
My initial interest was in elected office, where I could serve the public. Early on, I realized that it would hurt my family by being away for nightly meetings and events and campaigning. I realized that I could serve the public in the Judicial Branch without running for office.
I enjoy working with our great judges and staff and having courts that operate very well.
Q: Can you talk about some of the most significant improvements you and the court have made with regard to efficiency, both in technology and procedure?
Monitoring how the courts are doing and learning the problems they face in getting timely decisions. My job has been to convince judges to ask for help when they need it. Often it is easy to get other judges from the circuit to help an overworked court due to an ill judge or vacant judgeships. Providing temporary law clerks helps. It also helps to speak to the judge about the need to get their excellent law clerks, judicial assistants, and clerk’s office staff to work as a team.
When I started with the Court of Appeals, three judges would decide unargued cases seriatim. The appeal moved from one judge to a second judge to the third judge. Now, a staff attorney is assigned to prepare a memorandum on each unargued case. A panel of three judges is provided with the briefs and the bench memorandum. The judges then collegially discuss the appeal with the staff attorney there to answer any questions. Then an assigned judge will work with the staff attorney to prepare a proposed decision, which will then be circulated to the other judges.
Q: In what ways have you and the court advanced core values of justice through your work as circuit executive?
I have been asked many ethics questions. I answer them if there is a clear answer. If the answer is not clear, I suggest that the person contact the General Counsel (at the Administrative Office of the U.S. Courts), or the circuit member of the Codes of Conduct Committee.
I actually worked on a part of drafting of the Russian Code of Conduct, which then was adopted for all the Russian judges. My first contact with foreign judiciaries occurred when a delegation of the Chief Justice of the Soviet Union and the chief justices of several of the major Soviet Republics visited Chief Judge Luther Swygert. They had been invited to visit by Chief Justice Warren Burger.
Over the years the Administrative Office of the U.S. Courts, State Department, World Chicago, U.S. Russian Foundation, Open World, and others have asked me to meet with foreign judges and other visitors who wish to learn about the federal courts. Those contacts have resulted in my being asked to speak to judges in Armenia, Australia, China, Laos, Turkey, and on many trips to Russia. It is an honor to talk about how well our federal courts work and learn how things work in other countries.
Q: Do you have any retirement plans? Will you remain active in the legal profession?
My interest is to continue as a lawyer and serve as a mediator, arbitrator, master in the federal courts, and continue to serve on the Rule of Law Committee of the U.S. Russian Foundation. I am also exploring part-time teaching in an inner-city high school, where I can also encourage future lawyers from that school.
Q: After a half-century of working in the Seventh Circuit, and with hundreds of judges over the decades, what do you consider your greatest achievements and satisfactions?
I have tried to make sure that our judges and staff are the best people representing the diverse persons that make up the American public.
My goal is to make sure that the courts operate very well.
Q: Do you have any other thoughts not covered in the prior questions?
It has been an honor to serve in the Judiciary Branch.
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