My Reflections on a High-Stakes Campaign That Had to Fight to Be Noticed

 Although the vote-count isn't final yet, it appears that I will continue as a judge on the Court of Appeals for another six-year term.  I am deeply grateful for all those who assisted in that effort with critical donations and volunteer support.  The dominant view--maybe even your own view--was that my opponent had no chance of prevailing and that I would obviously win.  That never has been my view of the stakes--and my experience of the campaign and the vote count so far confirms my sense that the stakes were higher and the odds longer than people realized.  I hope these reflections will be helpful in awakening concern about things that I have been concerned about for a long time; this election heightened those concerns for me, and my commitment to addressing them is deeper than ever.

First, as I have noticed out loud for quite some time, the judiciary has for too long operated in a way that makes it practically impossible for the public to hold us accountable for the work that we do.  We haven't been transparent enough about how we approach our work and what that work involves.  In effect, we expect the public to just trust us.

That's neither sound nor is it good public policy--especially since our work impacts the public in significant and even dramatic ways.  Real trust must be earned--and since our work involves listening to citizens and applying the law to the facts that they present to us (often from a social location that is vulnerable in ways that judges don't experience), a big piece of how judges need to earn public trust is by practicing listening to the public, especially the most vulnerable, outside the courtroom.  We need to place ourselves in a position of proximity to citizens who struggle in ways that we don't, outside of the venue that we control, so that our work in chambers is informed by concern and curiosity about what contributes to the problems that land people in court.  That work has been part of my own practice for 19 years, and it has profoundly affected my perspective and my contributions to the court. 

The judiciary's tendency to frame its work in a way that neglects that sort of proximity and trust-building leaves the public feeling disengaged from the legal system, which means that judicial elections feel meaningless to most people.  In some cases, and for all kinds of reasons, they may well feel aggrieved--which opens the door wide open for someone like my opponent to stoke the fires of aggrievement with misinformation.  Aggrieved voters will be more motivated than the disengaged ones--which in this instance increased the risk that my opponent, who has already been sanctioned for serious dishonesty in a judicial position, would succeed.  A challenge to a sitting judge isn't necessarily a bad thing; a challenge that spreads false information is.  And that's what my opponent was offering.  And it came much too close to working for my taste.  

Second, it's ironic but not surprising that his campaign sought to remove me from office as opposed to someone else.  Touting himself as the "diversity candidate," he sought to remove the only woman of color from the Court of Appeals, arguing that my long tenure meant that I bring less value rather than more.  That sort of argument had some possibility of working because we have not really reckoned with the impacts of racism in this country--including how much easier it is to devalue the work of a woman of color than the work of literally anyone else.  We mostly function as though racism is somehow solved by adding an occasional BIPOC into mostly white spaces.  We can't really imagine that those few will face any additional pressure, or that a woman of color (particularly one with some practice making space for the concerns of marginalized groups) might be bringing anything important and unique or that her long tenure might well require different things of her that aren't required of others--things like resilience, courage, and hard-won wisdom.  

My opponent easily breezed by all of that because we aren't in a practice of looking for it.  Instead he lumped me into the category of institutional dead weight, despite all the evidence that I challenge things that others don't.  (Among other spaces, I spoke to those efforts here and here--work that goes largely unnoticed but that does heavy lifting in changing judicial conversations.)  There are plenty of signs that I have been an outsider voice during my tenure on the court, bringing things into the conversation that would not otherwise be there, often in the face of real resistance.  Instead of valuing those things or bothering to understand them, my opponent sought to capitalize on the collective devaluing of them, all while criticizing me for luxuriating in institutional benefits that don't flow easily to me.  

Third, those in the best position to understand how the system functions--the legal community and other community leaders--were inclined to minimize the risks posed by my opponent.  I'm not sure how to explain that, though it is likely related to my first two points.  The result was that I and a tiny group of fierce volunteers faced a wall of denial and resistance (from people who did not support my opponent) that was really demoralizing, given that this was a two-month-long statewide campaign against an opponent who spread a lot of misinformation and lies (including a false claim that he was "exonerated" from judicial conduct violations and from criminal charges that were dropped for reasons having nothing to do with the merits) and who attempted to capitalize on distrust of the judiciary that I have been leading work to address.  Our job getting the word out was way harder than it would have been had people assessed the stakes more accurately--indeed, the media and so many organizations who purport to represent the groups who would have been most negatively impacted had my opponent succeeded did not see the reasons to be concerned.  It was harrowing and traumatic.

And it also deepened my concern about the issues that I have been working to address for 19 years.  I don't think there is reason to assume that this is the only campaign challenge that my opponent or others with similar agendas will make.  We have some work to do to help folks understand the importance of engagement in the work of the legal system.  Judges need to be more accountable to the public; the community needs to learn to recognize the signs that an outsider voice is being minimized; and those who seek to improve the functioning of the legal system need to engage with energy more befitting the stakes.

Though bruised and shaken by encountering such inertia in the face of stakes this high, I continue to be committed to the work of increasing judicial accountability and engagement.  I remain focused on listening and working to understand the concerns of all citizens, especially those who have the hardest time being heard.  And I am very grateful for every vote, every dollar donated, and especially the real energy a few folks devoted that made it possible for me to keep doing good work inside the legal system.  I want to give a special shout-out to Ben and Leora Coleman-Fire, who turned their lives upside-down and worked their asses off on behalf of me and all of us.  I had no choice but to fight; they did.  They volunteered time they didn't really have to spare, offered heart and energy and grace and brilliance and excellent instincts, and did the work of ten people.  Without their help, I might well have lost.  I am so grateful!