“When I graduated from law school over 20 years ago, the profession was even less diverse, and I had so many moments, as a Black woman, where I would be the only person in the room who looked like me or where I experienced discrimination from a client or a colleague. The Civil Rights Act, which says you can't discriminate at work, was passed in 1964. It's not that people don't know there are rules, but they don't feel—and hadn't felt—like they had to follow them. 

“What you have to find is community; look for anyone who can support you, who will guide you. For me, I’m able to consistently show up against whatever the odds are, because I have such a deep grounding in my home life, outside of the profession. And that makes a difference. 

“My first job was as a law clerk at the Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit, and there was only one Black woman on the court at the time. I would go a very long time without seeing another Black woman in my job. It’s amazing to go from that experience to two years ago when Justice Ketanji Jackson was confirmed on the Supreme Court. Twenty years ago, I couldn’t have imagined that in my lifetime I would see a Black woman sit on the Supreme Court in a profession that’s just so not diverse. I think about all the people who are entering the profession today knowing they can be whatever they want to be in the field.”

“I have to confess: In my earliest days, I didn't use that language, ‘gender justice’ or ‘feminist.’ I think that's true for a lot of people—they don't necessarily have the language to match the things they feel passionate about. 

“I had a number of experiences early on in my career where I had the chance to mentor girls in school—these creative, interesting, funny young people who kept me on my toes. I saw that when you provide the space and time and energy, it allows them the ability to rise and thrive. But these same girls, and especially those who were Black, would talk about the types of experiences that they were having in school; how they were treated unfairly by teachers; how they got into trouble for insignificant things; how they were harassed by boys. It brought me back to my own childhood where I never remember anyone saying anything about this day-to-day harassment that I experienced. It was taken as a given.

“When I was in law school, I found out about Title IV, which says schools have a longstanding obligation to make sure students don't experience discrimination or harassment. So, when I joined the National Women's Law Center, my task was to ensure that people knew about the power of Title IV and that schools took it seriously. I represented clients who were being treated unfairly in school and understood that we could do something about it. Over time, at the National Women's Law Center, I’ve been able to build real clarity around a range of laws and policies that could do right by women, girls, and gender-expansive people in this country. And I've been able to think about the way in which law, policy, our culture, and our institutions all have to change to ensure that we are the country that we all deserve.”

“Two things come to mind. One: In the early days of the pandemic, we saw giant rates of unemployment for women. Millions of women left the workforce and weren't looking for employment because they were put in this untenable situation of having to work and care at the same time. The math around child care doesn't really work: The workers aren't paid enough to be stable in the workforce, families can't afford to pay more, and we, as a nation, haven’t invested enough to ensure it’s an efficient infrastructure for families, communities, and businesses. We were able to jump in and work to secure a historic increase in funding for child care to help stabilize a collapsing child care sector. And I am so proud of the work that we were able to do in that moment, all while bringing visibility to how critical it is to invest in the care economy, to invest in child care, paid leave, and home care. And we're continuing to fight—our work is not over. 

“Second: A part of the Affordable Care Act [in 2010] is that you can't discriminate based on sex in health care programs and activities—it’s a law called Section 1557, which is modeled after Title IV. This expansion in health care has been critical during a time when we're seeing extreme attacks against sexual orientation and gender identity, and efforts to restrict reproductive health care. I was one of the lead folks who worked on Section 1557, and I’m so grateful it exists today because we now have baseline protection.” 

“It was devastating when they overturned Roe v. Wade, because I knew how many people would be put in harm's way. I thought immediately of people who would be criminally punished for accessing health care or helping someone else. And I also knew and understood that people would die, which is a heavy thing to say. It is heartbreaking; it is devastating. But it is not in my genes—and I actually think not in the makeup of civil rights lawyers—to see a hard thing and say, ‘Well, now I give up.’ Our task is never an easy one.

“I'm reminded of those who were fighting before me—and fighting at a time when we had very few protections in the law on gender. I think about the efforts of people like Pauli Murray, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, and Shirley Chisholm, who were dreaming up systems and approaches that didn't even exist at the time. I think about the co-founders of the National Women's Law Center, which was founded in 1972, who had to argue cases or galvanize a public who hadn’t imagined that pregnant workers should be protected or harassment should be prohibited at work. What ensures my motivation is knowing that this work did not begin with me. And I think about all the other people who are counting on us.”