Tell us about your community growing up. Looking back, how did it shape who you are now?

I’m the proud daughter of a Vietnam Veteran, and was raised in military bases for most of my childhood. While dad was on a naval destroyer somewhere my mother raised 5 kids almost all by herself, surrounded by a village of other military families. Long separations and frequent moves, a different school every year, and a nomadic lifestyle demands learning how to acclimate easily to new surroundings and make new friends. While times were difficult, I learned that nothing was impossible. As the eldest daughter I grew up fast, became a substitute parent at a young age, helping to hold down the home front. The experience has armed me with a sense of responsibility, a skill to overcome adversity, and a talent to enjoy the possibility of a fresh start, the diversity of people and places, and a mindset that embraces a sense of duty and service that I think only those who grew up in a military life fully understand.

Describe your journey to law school. What motivated you to enroll?

As a kid, I sneaked into a movie called “and Justice for All” with Al Pacino, who plays a passionate criminal defense attorney repeatedly questioning the ultimate objective of the American legal system. I was hooked, and began my pursuit to becoming a lawyer. I didn’t know what I didn’t know, yet never suffered from a lack of perseverance. I filled out applications for admission and scholarships, ignored counselors who discouraged me aiming high and leaving home, and went to a law school far away (without a clue what “law review” was). It wasn’t easy, but “I can’t” was not in my vocabulary — only “I can.”

What was your law school experience like?

I thought I knew what to expect — I had read “One L” by Scott Turow, after all. I prepared to suffer relentless competition, overwhelming reading assignments and the hot seat in class every once in a while. BU didn’t disappoint. While my time for social interaction was limited, I became a part of a small “village” of students of color — a mere baker’s dozen thirty years ago, a fraction of what it is today. I’m likely the first Mexican American to graduate, certainly the first in my family, but more importantly not the last. That shallow pool of Hispanic students shared much in common, including the confidence in oneself, the pride in our own definition of success, and intrinsic goals that motivated our work ethic that remains inherent in my career.

Did you know about appellate work in law school? If not, when and how did it first get on your radar and why were you drawn to it?

Appeals and clerking weren’t alien to me while in law school, but my preference then and after graduation was always to be in the courtroom as a litigator. The opportunity to clerk on an appellate court came unexpectedly – at a social function, no less – and I was smart enough to accept it when offered. Too long a story to share here, but one I often tell to make the point that we must remain open to possibility, especially those that take us in a new direction. Had I not, I may never have gained the perspective that informed my decision twenty years later to run for election to an appellate court. In law school, I certainly never imagined I would one day serve as a chief justice.

How often do you encounter Latinx people in the appellate field? Why do you think that representation is important?

While on the bench, I have noted a handful that appear on briefings and less that appear before me at oral argument. I often encounter those that sit as second chair and, I often imagine, who may not be given the opportunity to orally present the arguments they likely may have crafted in the brief. I’m encouraged by increasing efforts that promote law students of color to participate in journal, moot court and internships, and wish only that more become less inhibited to pursue these opportunities. Latino representation in the appellate field still lags, and it matters to show the progress we have made and the opportunities available at every level of the justice system. “If she sees it, she can be it.”

What advice would you give to a law student of color who aspires to be where you are now?

Work hard. Earn the experience you need to do the job well. Take chances in yourself. Be open to mentorship. Swallow a huge humility pill. Don’t take anything or anyone for granted. Get over yourself — your fear, your ego, and your need to be perfect before getting started. And haters gonna hate — just remember, dogs don’t bark at parked cars.

What’s one thing law schools and/or the appellate bar can do to ensure our highest courts are representative of all our communities?

In 1993, one year after I graduated from law school, Justice Ginsburg was appointed to SCOTUS and Governor Ann Richards appointed Justice Linda Yañez to the 13th COA, the first Latina to serve on a Texas appellate court. In the first few years of practice, I could count on one hand the number of women judges I appeared before. Thirty years later, I now sit on the only all-female appellate court in the country, six of the seven are Latinas, and I am one of three Latina Chief Justices in Texas. As the teaching ground to future jurists, law schools and bar associations have an opportunity to recognize the advances of Hispanics to the judiciary, to build pathways to future candidates and appointees, and to illuminate obstacles and identify solutions to increasing judicial diversity.