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

One central part of my identity is that I consider myself a strong woman. I was raised by a single mother—a feat which to me is itself one of strength—who was raised herself by yet another strong woman. I was also very much influenced by two things growing up, and I think both of those things are connected not only to each other but to who I am today. The first is that most of the people I knew growing up came from a lower-income background, which I grew to learn often meant less access to resources that many may take for granted. The second thing is that I saw people in my life be negatively affected by the criminal legal system. In combination, these two facts made me become someone who looks critically at the way systems serve (or don’t serve) people and influenced the work that I ultimately chose to do in the criminal legal system.

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

I was one of those obnoxious people who knew I wanted to be a lawyer for as long as I could remember. I had an idea that being an attorney would give me the resources I needed to help people, and I thought it was something I would be good at doing. At the same time, I didn’t know any lawyers growing up so I realized that I would have to figure out the path to becoming an attorney largely on my own. This meant my journey involved a lot of research (thank you, internet) and self-motivation, but it was more than worth it in the end.

What was your law school experience like?

I had a great law school experience. I attended Stanford Law School in California, so I got a great education while enjoying some near-ideal weather. Although the environment was great, the best thing about the school was my fellow students who were a wonderful combination of intelligent, humble, and collaborative. In the interest of full disclosure, I also met my husband at Stanford, so perhaps I’m a bit biased in that regard. I also particularly enjoyed being a member of our school’s Black Law Students Association and the connection that brought.

I should add that in law school I also tried to focus on my practical skills. For me, this meant taking classes that focused on legal writing and making it a priority to participate in a clinic. I was lucky enough to be a part of Stanford’s Criminal Defense Clinic, where I partnered with another student to represent people charged with misdemeanors, and I could not recommend clinics any more highly. During my time in the Clinic, I learned so much about the kind of lawyer I wanted to be, and I was able to further confirm that I eventually wanted to help people targeted by the criminal legal system.

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 actually learned about appellate work as an advanced student in the Stanford Law Criminal Defense Clinic. There, we had the opportunity to work on a state habeas petition for a client who had been inadequately represented at both trial and on direct appeal. I was drawn to this work because it seemed to allow for a good amount of depth both in terms of the legal research and writing and the client relationship. It was because of this experience that I have continued to do criminal appeals in some form ever since graduating law school.

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

One of my most meaningful cases was a case that I actually lost on direct appeal in the first instance, but later won at New York’s highest court—the Court of Appeals. That case involved a longtime client of mine who had attempted to exercise his constitutional right to represent himself but was cut off from doing so by the trial judge without the due process that such a request requires. I thought this case was particularly meaningful for a couple reasons. First, that it reinforced the importance of the autonomy and rights of a person who is being prosecuted by the government. Second, that it underscored the importance of an appeal—of having multiple people review the decisions of another to protect against bias or error. That case was also a good reminder to stay in the fight, even when a previous decision has not gone your way.

I also should note how meaningful I’ve found a case that I’m currently working on as part of ACLU’s Capital Punishment Project. The case involves a post-conviction challenge to a death sentence for a young Black man in North Carolina through usage of the state’s Racial Justice Act. Although this is a case that is still in the works, it’s been meaningful to interact with a piece of law aimed at the racial disparities we know exist in the criminal legal system.

How often do you encounter women, particularly women of color, in the appellate field? Why do you think that representation is important?

Sadly, when I argue in an appellate court, I often look around at my fellow advocates and find that I am the only woman of color arguing before the judicial panel. This is always disappointing when it happens because I very strongly believe in the importance of representation, and I think it is meaningful on multiple levels. I think it is just as meaningful to clients to have a diversity of attorneys to represent them as it is to attorneys to feel supported in a field that cares about the representation of people with their same background. It’s also very important for the issues being argued themselves. I wrote an article about this for Bloomberg Law right before Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson was nominated, and the main point of the article was to highlight the importance of representation at all levels, and particularly for appellate work where personal perspectives can be so important.

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

One piece of advice I would give is to not be afraid to reach out to people who are where you want to be. I remember being hesitant to do so when I was a law student, but the truth is that many people find it very rewarding to help people—and particularly historically underrepresented people—as they begin and progress on their legal journey. And for anyone reading this, please consider me one of those resources that you’re more than welcome to reach out to!

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

I think it’s so important that law schools and organizations create pipelines that benefit the people who are the least represented. That is part of why I’m such a big supporter of The Appellate Project and its extremely important and impactful mission. And once people are “in the door,” I think it’s equally important that they are supported. To that end, I think it’s important to support affinity groups, to elevate underrepresented people to positions of power, and to generally make space for the voices that can sometimes be the most silenced.