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

I am Salish, Crow, Turtle Mountain Chippewa and Little Shell Chippewa. I grew up in Billings, Montana, a border town to the Crow Reservation. My connection to my communities was through my grandparents and my extended family. I went to mostly white schools. I didn’t feel like I fit in there. I didn’t feel like I fit into my tribal communities. College gave me an outlet to find more connections. There is no one version of the Indigenous experience. Our personal histories are vast and varied. Once I grew into that mindset, I was able to feel comfortable in my own history.

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

I always knew I would be a lawyer. My dad, Urban J. Bear Don’t Walk, was one of the first American Indian Lawyers and the second in his tribe to get a law degree. He was involved in some of the most important federal Indian Law cases of the present day. My parents were trailblazers. They met on the campus of Montana State College, coming from two very different tribal communities. Both finished their degrees and my dad went onto law school. My brothers and I grew up with an expectation of education. I had no plans but to go to college. I became a single mother during undergrad. Graduation took me a little longer. I took one year off in between undergrad and law school. On my daughter’s first day of kindergarten, I started law school. I had to treat law school like a job. If it didn’t get done between 8-5, it had to wait until my daughter went to bed.

What was your law school experience like?

My law school experience overall was a positive one. But my law school, while having an Indian Law program, had very few Indigenous people as students or faculty. During my time, there was one Native professor. Even though I was a legacy at my law school, it was still somewhat isolating to be one of a handful of Indigenous people at the school. Later, I got an LLM in International Indigenous People’s Law and Policy at the University of Arizona Rogers College of Law. That law school experience was completely the opposite. Many Native faculty, many Indigenous students and a vibrant community that was very welcoming. Additionally, I had to make some hard choices in law school. I knew that I couldn’t be a present parent and spend hours and hours studying. It wasn’t going to work for my child and me, even though that felt like the expectation. I did what I could, when I could. I knew even then that my choice not to get perfect grades could have repercussions later. After almost two decades of practice later, I know I made the right choice.

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?

I participated in the Native American Law Student Association’s moot court competitions in law school. That and my appellate advocacy class really helped me become a better writer and more confident speaker. I did a criminal defense clinic and was able to write a criminal appeal. So, I had some experience with appellate work. Once I was barred, I was recruited by several tribal appellate courts to sit. At the time, I was afraid I didn’t know enough or have enough practical experience to sit on the bench. I talked it over with my dad. I knew if he felt I was ready, then I would do it. I was on three appellate courts within a few months of receiving my license. I have always taken the work very seriously. A bad decision from any court can ripple through our communities. I knew that even before I became a lawyer.

Tell us about one of your appellate cases that you found particularly meaningful.

I served 10 tribal appellate courts and several trial level courts. In many cases, issues before the court were cases of first impression. Those cases were the most difficult because the court’s decision would have lasting impacts. I think as lawyers, we always want to get it right. Making “new” law was nerve-wracking.

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

Other than in tribal communities and our tribal court systems, it’s rare to encounter Indigenous people in other spaces. I have a friend who has done two federal clerkships and works in the federal system. I am not sure I even knew those were possibilities when I was in law school. Representation in those spaces matter. As a public defender, it felt important that my clients (who were mainly people of color) saw someone from their home community actively seeking justice. The same is true for all parts of the legal system.

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

Law school is not a measure of success. There will be obstacles. Diligence far outweighs intelligence. There is no one path or one area of law for us. Try them all on and find what you love. I am a criminal defense attorney. I have served many roles in my career, but criminal defense is a passion of mine. Dream bigger! My wish for students of color in the legal field is to see that every place is our place: tribal benches, federal benches, trial work, appellate work, all of it. There is no place we shouldn’t be. But there are limits other people will put on us. Those are their limits, not ours.

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

Law schools and the legal profession are elitist by nature. The measurements used to get into the door of law schools and appellate bars are exclusive. Does a lower-class rank mean a person won’t be a good lawyer? Does a lower grade in a class mean a person won’t be a good lawyer? The idea that transcripts somehow show a person’s abilities is antiquated. People who “don’t have experience” can’t get the experience without someone taking a chance. Hire people who need a chance. We hire whole people: flaws, gifts, and all. Grow them. Be the mentor you needed. We have to continue breaking down barriers and forcing ourselves into spaces that we haven’t been before and bring people along with us.