Pride and Nostalgia: the Nomination of Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson
Today, President Biden will nominate Ketanji Brown Jackson to the United States Supreme Court — the first Black woman to serve in the highest judicial seat in the nation — the first in 233 years. That she is an accomplished judge for the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals, with an unrivaled legal pedigree is undeniable. This long overdue achievement and the discussion it will stimulate hit home with me as a trained lawyer and as a Black woman. Today I am filled with pride and a bit of nostalgia as I reflect upon the significance of this milestone.
When I was 3 years old, as the story goes, I talked back to my mother. “You need to be a judge because you always have to have the last word!” she declared. I asked her what judges did and she explained that they decided who was right and wrong but that I’d first have to become a lawyer. “What do lawyers do, Mommy?” They help people solve problems, she answered. If there’s anything that I trace my legal journey to, it’s that exchange. It seems I’ve always known that this was my calling — to help people solve problems.
In 1993, I arrived on the campus of Southern Methodist University in Dallas, Texas as a first year law student. I was one of just 16 Black people in my law class of 276 — the most in the University’s history at that time. While awaiting entry to the hall where our new student orientation was to take place, I ended up standing next to a fellow classmate, a white man, I later learned was a plaintiff in the Hopwood v. Texas case that overturned race as a factor in law school admissions. He had sued because he was denied admission at University of Texas, and blamed his rejection on the acceptance of supposedly lesser qualified Black students. The man said loudly, surveying the room, “there sure are a lot of Black people here.” I looked around, confused, because all I could see were a few brown specks in a sea of white faces.
The 16 of us went on to distinguish ourselves in myriad ways. 5 of us either wrote or graded on to law review (myself included); we won local, regional and national competitions for Lawyering, Negotiations, Moot Court and Mock Trial. I took home numerous awards, recognitions and wins. We won scholarships, writing competitions, and more. And yet our intellect, our right to be there was questioned at every turn.
That was the overall tenor of the environment: the relatively few of us constantly having to prove that we belonged there, that we were just as qualified, capable, and competent as any other student. It wore on my psyche and angered me at times. But I’d been underestimated before and come out on top. This would be no different. I loved the law! I loved learning about it, the way it failed people, the way it honored them, the way it functioned and the ways in which it could improve. None of the challenges I faced deterred me from wanting to help people and create systemic change. In fact, they only motivated me to keep going.
I began my legal career as a Staff Attorney with the Maryland Office of the Attorney General. Despite my briefcase, suit and position at counsel’s table in court and out, on more than one occasion I was mistaken for a clerk or secretary, not legal counsel.
But I had it easy, no doubt. I think about Charlotte Ray, the first black woman licensed to practice law in the United States. She’d been a teacher and completed law school at Howard University in 1872; later that year she was admitted to the bar. What must it have been like for her as not only a woman but a Black woman at a time when women were denied access to so many professions, something we can easily take for granted today.
Judge Jackson stands on the shoulders of women like Charlotte Ray, pioneers breaking down barriers and opening doors for themselves and others. I am filled with pride marveling at the path these women trod. But lest we forget their struggle, they remain anomalies — outliers. Not only for their accomplishments but for the singularity of it. We have not yet normalized the notion of a Black female judge. They are still few and far between. And that’s a shame.
Today, young Black women will see it is possible for them to reach the highest court in the land — the ultimate achievement for a jurist. And like many of us Black female lawyers and those who came before us, solely because Judge Jackson is a Black woman, there will be those who question her qualifications, which are more than sterling, and beyond what others in her position have had even in recent years. (Indeed the insults began before her name was even announced).
The race baiters have already begun questioning why her Blackness matters. It matters because she’ll bring a different lens, lived experience, and approach to case review. She will understand the weight of culture, identity, and rationale through the lens of an African-American eye when deciding a case. Make no mistake: her perspective, her identity as a Black woman is in itself a qualification. She knows what it is like to work three times as hard for the same recognition and role as her peers. And she’s going to work three times as hard to make it through this confirmation process, with Republicans lining up against her solely because she is President Biden’s pick…and solely because of her Blackness.
So today, I relish in the excitement of Judge Jackson’s nomination to the U.S. Supreme Court. I celebrate her, her accomplishments, all of her brilliant Black girl magic-ness. And yet I know it wasn’t magic that got her here at all, but a steel will, sharp intellect, and the ability to withstand barbs and slights. The very same characteristics that will carry her through a grueling nomination process is the very same resolve that will make her a fine Supreme Court Justice and role model for sassy-mouthed 3 year-old girls of all races whose mothers are unwittingly helping to shape them into future lawyers.
