Recent Articles
It’s a Gray Area:
Exploring new worlds: the Peace Corps
Published Sunday, November 1, 2009 12:18 AM PDT
By James P. Gray
As seen in the Daily Journal
Between graduating from college in 1966 and entering law school in 1968, I served as a
Peace Corps volunteer in Costa Rica.
Many times since my return, people have told me that they always had wanted to be in the Peace Corps.
My response almost always has been, well it was a great experience, and it’s not too late for you to do it now.
But invariable the people then come up with some sort of explanation as to why they can’t do it, at least not now.
Well, in 2011, the Peace Corps will be celebrating its 50th birthday, and it is continuing to do
good work. In fact, according to its website, the number of applicants grew by 18% more
than a year ago, although I recognize that the economy might have had something to do with
it.
The mission statement is in three parts: 1) Helping the people of interested countries in
meeting their need for trained men and women; 2) Helping promote a better understanding
of Americans on the part of the people served; and 3) Helping promote a better
understanding of other people on the part of Americans.
Obviously, the Peace Corps is certainly not for everyone. In fact, if you even have to ask why someone would want to be involved in such a thing “for two whole years,” you probably would never understand. People either have an intuitive understanding about what it is to be a volunteer, or they don’t.
When I went to Costa Rica, I requested the smallest town in the country that had a high school, and they gave it to me.
The reason was in part that it was completely inconsistent with my vision of a Peace Corps experience to take a bus to work, like some of my colleagues did in the capital city.
My town of Palmar Norte was on the Inter-American Highway, about half way from the point south of the capital city of San Jose where the paving on the highway ended, and the Panamanian border, where it resumed.
It is amazing to me that Costa Rica is now a tourist destination, because when I was there
people were mostly ignorant of even where it was — often confusing it with Puerto Rico.
But I was a “profesor de educación física” in the high school, and I also taught physical
education in the local elementary schools, as well as general health and community
recreation in my extended community.
In fact, I probably still hold the world’s record for brushing my teeth in front of more elementary school classes than anyone else in history.
My biggest tangible success sometimes seemed to be teaching some of the elementary school students to take turns while “up at bat” in our kickball games, because mostly everyone was first in line, all of the time.
But actually, my most general success probably was being able to show the people in my small community that North Americans could work hard at a project, perspire and get dirty.
Clearly my biggest failure was my inability to establish the practice with most families of boiling their drinking water.
When I was there, Costa Rica was believed by many actually to lead the world in birth rates per capita. Nevertheless, their population generally was not expending because of the high infant mortality rate.
And the reason for that mostly was the parasites in their drinking water.
Thus, it was not unusual for me to see a funeral service for an infant in an open casket, in
which the mother or someone else had to brush aside the worms that were crawling out of
the mouth and nose of the deceased child (I am sorry if this offends, but it’s true — and I
grieve about it).
I also tried to spread information about natural birth control to the adults in my town by
handing out literature, and encouraging the female home economics teacher in our high
school to help me with the discussions.
But that was right at the time that the Papal Encyclical was issued that forbid Catholics even
from discussing this subject.
So after this was issued, Padre Samuel Stewart, who was our community’s Catholic priest and a friend of mine, told me that if I didn’t stop, he would take the pulpit against me. What could a Peace Corps volunteer do against a force like that? So I stopped.
By the time my two-year term was completed, I think I was able to make a contribution in keeping with the mission statement.
I helped our Peace Corps group teach a clinic in San Jose that was able to pass along some
needed skills and approaches to virtually all of the physical education professors in the
country; I led some of my students into various careers that they might not otherwise have
pursued; and I became friends and colleagues to quite a few Costa Ricans, with whom I
communicated for decades.
For my part, I believe that I learned more from the Costa Ricans than they did from me.
And I also learned to speak a second language, such that years later as a judge I was able to try some of my small claims court cases in Spanish. And you should have seen the eyes of some of the litigants grow large when this gringo started talking Spanish.
Since the Peace Corps began, about 195,000 volunteers have served in 139 host countries.
But over time the Peace Corps has changed substantially. When I was involved, there was a virtual prohibition against a volunteer being married, and if those who were married ever were expecting children, they were sent home immediately. In addition, most of the volunteers were like me: recent college liberal arts graduates who had lots of idealism, but few skills.
And most of our assignments were either to teach English, or to be involved in “community
development.”
So look at it this way: Most of us were young, without real practical skills, not adept in the
local language or really understanding the local culture or history, and were being sent down
to other people’s countries to help them “develop their communities.” So all of this was a bit
arrogant of us back then, if you think of it in that context.
Fortunately, many of those things have changed over time, because more older and wiser volunteers are being recruited, and are serving. And these are people who not only have more life skills, but they also can pass along much of their practical experience, maturity, and demonstrated abilities to the locals.
So if you are one of those people who have frequently thought to yourself that you would like
to join the Peace Corps, or a similar domestic program like Teach for America, give some
serious thought about doing it now. And if you are married or even if you have children, so
much the better.
From my own personal experience, I can tell you that it is one of the most gratifying
experiences that you could ever have.
JAMES P. GRAY is a retired judge of the Orange County Superior Court, the
author of Wearing the Robe – the Art and Responsibilities of Judging in Today’s
Courts (Square One Press, 2008), and can be contacted at
jimpgray@sbcglobal.net or via his website at www.judgejimgray.com.
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**All these photos above were taken by members of the OC HBA delegation to Quepos during our trip in May 2009.
The Ins and Outs of E-Discovery
December 08, 2009
By Theresa Lopez and Mark DeSouza
On June 29, 2009, Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger signed the California Electronic Discovery Act into law. The Act closely tracks the 2006 amendments to the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, and, like the Federal Rules, will have a significant impact on discovery of electronically stored information. Given the sheer volume of electronically stored information in commercial and class action lawsuits these days, electronic discovery can be a minefield for litigants if not carefully navigated. But if properly and thoroughly understood, the Act can provide the tools for managing the costs and burdens of discovery.
The Act, like the Federal Rules, broadly defines electronically stored information as "information that is stored in an electronic medium." California Civil Code of Procedure Section 2016.020(e). If applied similarly to the Federal Rule, it will encompass all data stored on computers or other digital media. Despite this broad definition, though, the Act does place some limits on the discovery of electronically stored information. For example, if the electronically stored information "is from a source that is not reasonably accessible because of undue burden or expense," the producing party may avoid production on that basis, but must state which sources it will not search. California Civil Code of Procedure Section 1985.8(d). However, unlike the Federal Rules, under the Act, the producing party has the burden of demonstrating that the requested information is not reasonably accessible. Nonetheless, subject to any limitations set by the court, a requesting party may still obtain an order requiring production of some or all of the electronically stored information sought if good cause is shown-even if the producing party has established the information is not reasonably accessible.
The court may also limit production where the information is unreasonably cumulative or duplicative, it is available from less expensive or more easily accessible sources, or the likely benefit is outweighed by the burden and expense of production. These exceptions are based on the idea that the cost of discovery should be proportionate to the overall case. It is worth noting, however, that objections to discovery based on the burden and expense of production generally have not been successful under the Federal Rules unless substantiated with specific facts and evidence of the burden. The California Act will likely be similarly applied.
Another significant change found in the Act is the so-called "Safe Harbor" provision. Prior to the Act, courts had the power to impose sanctions against a party for failing to maintain relevant evidence. Now under the Act, courts may not impose sanctions against a party for electronically stored information that is lost "as a result of the routine, good faith operation of an electronic information system." California Civil Code of Procedure Section 1985.8(k)(1). A similar safe harbor clause is found in the Federal Rules, which protects parties using systems that automatically alter and overwrite electronic information. Based on the Federal Rule, the Act, if interpreted similarly, should protect against sanctions for the inadvertent loss of ephemeral data such as temporary caches, system logs, and other information that is routinely deleted for the efficient operation of a computer system. It is important to note, however, that the protection of the safe harbor provision only extends to the deletion of such data up to the point at which a legal duty to preserve is triggered. After preservation, or "legal hold," obligations are triggered, parties must take measures to suspend the automatic deletion of all relevant information and the failure to do so may subject them to sanctions for spoliation.
Because the amount of electronically stored information available is often voluminous, its discovery greatly increases the risk of inadvertently producing privileged information. In an apparent attempt to address this issue, the Act includes a clawback provision that allows a party to seek the return of any privileged electronically stored information inadvertently produced by notifying the receiving party. California Civil Code of Procedure Section 2031.285(a). Based on the text of the Act, however, the clawback provision appears only to apply to the physical return of the inadvertently produced documents, but does not address whether there has been a privilege waiver. Under the Federal Rules and the recently amended Federal Rule of Evidence 502, inadvertent disclosure is generally not a waiver of privilege as long as reasonable steps have been taken to prevent disclosure or the parties have an agreement entered by the court to such effect. Unfortunately, California does not have an analogous rule of evidence to clarify this issue. It remains to be seen how California courts will interpret this new rule, but it is important for parties to understand the limitations of the clawback provision.
Under prior California law, parties were already generally required to meet and confer regarding discovery disputes in connection with discovery motions. Despite this general requirement, though, many anticipated the Act would amend California Rule of Court 3.724 to include specific meet and confer requirements relating to electronic discovery; however, it did not. Recognizing this omission, the Judicial Council has now amended Rule 3.724 (effective Aug. 14, 2009).
Under the amended Rule 3.724, parties must engage in the meet and confer conference at least 30 days prior to the initial case management conference. Among other things, parties will now be required to discuss issues relating to preservation of electronically stored information, the form in which it will be produced, when it will be produced, the scope of discovery of electronically stored information, the method by which parties will be able to make claims of privilege or confidentiality, and - most importantly - how the costs of production will be borne or shared by the parties. Parties and their attorneys should be cognizant that this change to Rule 3.724 now means that parties must understand their information technology systems and capabilities much earlier in the case. They will need to be prepared to discuss those capabilities with the opposing side to flesh out any related discovery issues before they are in front of the judge at the case management conference. Under the new rule, parties cannot simply delay addressing issues relating to electronic discovery until they have a discovery demand in front of them or it is raised at a hearing. This rule forces parties to be proactive, not just reactive.
Electronic discovery can be expensive and burdensome. This is especially true in light of the new Act, which makes it clear that the scope of discovery includes all forms of electronically stored information. At the same time, though, the Act provide a framework for litigants and the courts to cope with the ever-increasing amount of electronically stored information. Companies that embrace the new rules and take steps to understand their information systems will be best positioned to reap the Act's benefits.
Mark DeSouza, a law student and summer associate at Crowell & Moring, contributed to this article.
Theresa C. Lopez is counsel at Crowell & Moring. Mark DeSouza is a law student and summer associate at Crowell & Moring.
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DAILY JOURNAL NEWSWIRE ARTICLE
http://www.dailyjournal.com
© 2009 The Daily Journal Corporation.
Luz Herrera: ‘Low Bono’ Pioneer
LegalRebels.com
Oct 14, 2009
by Stephanie Francis Ward
Federally funded legal aid is free, and that needs to change, says Luz E. Herrera, a Harvard Law grad who focuses on access-to-justice issues for low- and moderate-income people.
She allows that those with incomes at the bottom of federal poverty guidelines often can’t afford to pay anything and shouldn’t have to. And for some issues, like domestic violence, she says there should never be a fee. But Herrera believes that in many practice areas, clients would appreciate the choices they’d get by paying something—and that it’s patronizing to assume they can pay nothing.
“The answer is not $300 an hour, but it’s also not $0,” says Herrera, an assistant professor at San Diego’s Thomas Jefferson School of Law. “We can’t look at providing legal services to the poor and assume they’ll always be poor. The current legal aid model is for people who really need help and assumes that’s all there is.”
Herrera’s idea about charging something isn’t well-received by some legal aid advocates, which she finds surprising.
“I think pro bono actually haunts us,” says Herrera, 36. “It minimizes the representation of the legal profession to an aspirational 50 hours a year.”
A former sole practitioner, Herrera is developing a community-based legal clinic for low- and moderate-income clients. And in 2005 she founded Community Lawyers Inc., a Compton, Calif., nonprofit that helps attorneys and paralegals serve low- and moderate-income clients. She pays out of pocket the office’s $1,200 monthly rent.
“It’s hard,” she says, “but I believe in it.”
Hear Herrera talk about her clinic and working with students.
Herrera doesn’t expect all her students to do legal aid work, but she does hope the clinic experience will give them a strong understanding of access-to-justice issues. And she hopes they will use that knowledge in whatever capacity they can.
After a brief, not-so-pleasant experience as a real estate associate at San Francisco’s Heller Ehrman, Herrera opened a storefront law office in Compton in 2002. She says she was the only full-time, Spanish-speaking lawyer in the southern Los Angeles suburb, which has a median household income of only $32,000.
She charged flat fees in some cases; in others, her hourly rate was $150. Consultations were $75. The first year Herrera earned $26,000 and lived with her parents at their home in Whittier.
‘VERY LUZ-LIKE’
Many lawyers dream of opening a storefront office in an underserved neighborhood, and that Herrera actually did it doesn’t surprise some who know her.
“It was very Luz-like,” says her friend Wendelyn Killian. The two met as undergraduates at Stanford University and attended Harvard Law School together. “She’s seen people of color get the short end of the stick, and she wanted to try and fill that void in any way she can,” says Killian, development director at the Community Coalition in Los Angeles. “She also wants financial security, like all of us.”
An only child of Mexican immigrants, Herrera says she has never been poor “because we always worked a hundred jobs.”
“Sometimes when she’s really fixed on what she wants to do, you might misread how flexible she can be—and open to ideas,” says Jeanne Charn, director of Harvard Law School’s Bellow-Sacks Access to Civil Legal Services Project.
Herrera received an alumni award named after Gary Bellow, Charn’s late husband who directed the school’s clinical law programs. Charn was so impressed that, when Herrera was selected for a one-year fellowship at the school’s Community Enterprise Project in 2006, she invited Herrera to live with her.
“You can sort out the people who kind of have a grip on life, deal with their mistakes, and own up to what they should do,” Charn says. “She’s just one of those people.”
Herrera’s accent is one common among people who, like herself, grew up in Los Angeles’ Spanish-speaking communities. She’s a petite woman who often pairs conservative business-casual wear with unique necklaces.
She closed her practice in December 2008 because it was difficult to provide direct legal services and advocate on issues close to her heart.
And Herrera wanted to encourage more lawyers to practice in underserved communities.
“I felt I needed to step out of the role for others to step into it,” she says. “If it was just about me and my practice, that was never enough.”
Cruz Reynoso honored as a ‘legal giant’
CALIFORNIA BAR JOURNAL
October, 2009
By Kristina Horton Flaherty
Staff Writer
Cruz Reynoso |
As a child, Cruz Reynoso thought it was unfair that the mail carrier’s route ended just two blocks short of his poor Orange County barrio. His parents and neighbors had to trudge more than a mile into town just to pick up their mail.
So the middle school-aged boy, who would someday become the first Latino to serve on California’s Supreme Court, did something about it. He penciled out a petition, collected signatures from all over the barrio and successfully appealed to the U.S. Postmaster General in Washington D.C. for rural mail delivery.
That early success, Reynoso says now, helped fuel his determination to keep “doing things that needed to be done.”
Last month, Reynoso, now 78, was awarded the State Bar’s Bernard E. Witkin Medal for his “significant contributions to the quality of justice and legal scholarship” in California. The medal, established in 1993, is presented each year to “those legal giants who have altered the landscape of California jurisprudence.”
Known as a civil rights champion, Reynoso has worked as a lawyer, community organizer, law professor, legal services program director, appellate court justice and state Supreme Court justice. He has served three California governors and four U.S. presidents. In 2000, President Clinton awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the nation’s highest civilian honor, in recognition of his “compassion and work on behalf of the downtrodden.”
“Justice Reynoso has been a champion on the side of providing full access to justice to all throughout his career,” said former State Bar President Holly Fujie. “This medal simply celebrates his unfaltering commitment to the justice system and his extraordinary efforts to obtain equal rights for all of us.”
One of 11 children raised in a family of farmworkers, Reynoso was introduced to segregation, discrimination and other injustices at an early age. He once watched a police officer kick his father. He spent his childhood summers picking fruit in the San Joaquin Valley, once becoming too exhausted and dehydrated to move, and once facing a traumatic delay in the entire family’s summer pay.
But from early on, Reynoso also tried to make a difference. As a teenager, he once stood up for two boys barred from a service club-sponsored middle school dance because they were Mexican. Reynoso later tracked down the club’s officers to complain and had his first experience of being asked to leave someone’s office. “They weren’t happy to hear from me,” he recalls. “On the other hand, I never heard of a segregated dance after that.”
By the end of high school, Reynoso was convinced that maybe he could “do some good” as a lawyer. And after earning a bachelor’s degree at Pomona College in Claremont and spending two years in the U.S. Army’s Counterintelligence Corps, he headed for UC Berkeley’s Boalt Hall. He was the only Latino in his 1958 graduating class.
“I had never met a Latino lawyer,” said Reynoso, whose sole ambition was to practice law in a small town. He and his wife chose El Centro in California’s Imperial Valley, where he built up a private practice and also helped negotiate improvements to the poor, predominantly Latino part of town. “The lesson I got from that,” he said, “was that quite often there’s just a lack of communication.”
In the mid-1960s, several governmental appointments took him to San Francisco, Sacramento and Washington, D.C. He served as assistant director of the state’s Fair Employment Practices Commission, then as staff secretary to Gov. Edmund G. (Pat) Brown. He also worked as associate general counsel to the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission.
In 1968, California Rural Legal Assistance (CRLA), a pioneering nonprofit legal services program for the rural poor, recruited Reynoso and quickly elevated him to executive director. It was a highlight of his career. At CRLA, he says, he saw firsthand what a difference lawyers can make. “We made a lot of law and protected a lot of people,” he recalls.
With Reynoso at the helm, CRLA took on cases that stopped the placement of non-English speaking Latino students in classes for the “mentally retarded” based on their low English-only test scores; that invalidated a policy requiring young children to work in agriculture as a condition of eligibility for welfare benefits; that forced the federal government to begin hearings that led to a ban on the pesticide DDT; and that prevented then-Gov. Ronald Reagan from slashing some $210 million in funding from California’s Medi-Cal program.
Jose Padilla, CRLA’s current executive director, credits Reynoso with providing “a legacy of leadership” and setting an example for other Latinos.
Padilla, the son and grandson of farm workers, still recalls the revered “Attorney Reynoso” from his childhood in Imperial Valley. As the only Spanish-speaking attorney in the valley, Reynoso gained a reputation for being a disarmingly humble “person of his word” who even dispensed “legal aid” from his home. And he was known, Padilla says, as someone who could mend strife as well — taking a group of picketers outside his office to lunch on one occasion and, on another, taming an unruly crowd at a town meeting by lecturing them on the example they were setting for their children.
“He also taught me that you never ‘retire’ from justice work,” Padilla said. “Among his pursuits, he continues to be a voice for those in poverty.”
Early in his career, Reynoso saw himself as an unlikely candidate for a judicial appointment. But in 1976, he became the first Latino appointed to a California Court of Appeal. Six years later, he made history again as the first Latino appointed to the state Supreme Court.
Reynoso brought a new perspective to the high court. In one instance, for example, his experiences as a lawyer for Spanish-speaking clients played a role. At issue was whether a non-English-speaking defendant had the constitutional right to an interpreter during his trial. Reynoso stressed the due process importance of having the accused understand the proceedings, and then described how difficult it had been for him to represent such clients and translate testimony for them at the same time. “It was very difficult for me as a lawyer to both listen to the witnesses and respond to my client,” he recalls. The Supreme Court ruled that such defendants do have the right to an interpreter in court — and the ruling became law.
Then, in 1986, Reynoso, Chief Justice Rose Bird and fellow Associate Justice Joseph Grodin all failed to win confirmation at the polls following an intense, high-profile campaign against them. Reynoso briefly returned to private practice, then joined the UCLA School of Law faculty.
Other highlights of Reynoso’s 50-year career include an 11-year stint as vice chair of the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights, and service on the Select Commission on Immigration and Refugee Policy, the United Nations Commission on Human Rights and the California Postsecondary Education Commission. In 2001, Reynoso joined the UC Davis School of Law as the inaugural holder of the Boochever and Bird Chair for the Study and Teaching of Freedom and Equality.
These days, Reynoso, who recently remarried and has four children and 17 grandchildren, remains a professor emeritus at UC Davis. Last fall, he was tapped to serve on a justice and civil rights agency review team to assist President-elect Barack Obama in his transition to the White House. And currently, he serves on the leadership council of California Forward, a bipartisan organization seeking to transform state government “through citizen-driven solutions.”
Describing himself as an “operational optimist,” Reynoso says he has “long lamented” those who work tirelessly on a particular issue for a year or two and then cease all efforts. He stresses the importance of trying to lead a balanced life and not giving up. “Particularly with tough social or legal issues,” he says, “persistence is half the battle.”
The Southern California Chapter of the American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers (AAML) has named Judge Francisco Firmat as Judicial Officer of the Year
ORANGE COUNTY
September 10, 2009
Judge Francisco Firmat |
The Southern California Chapter of the American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers (AAML) has named Judge Francisco Firmat as Judicial Officer of the Year for his outstanding contributions to the field of family law, both locally and statewide. Each year the AAML, an organization comprised of the region's top 90 matrimonial attorneys, honors a judicial officer in Orange County.
Prosecutor turned commissioner on litigating vs. judging
August 27th, 2009, 6:11 am · posted by Rachanee Srisavasdi
Carmen Luege, a former longtime federal prosecutor who worked out of the U.S. Attorney’s office in Santa Ana, is now an Orange County Superior Court Commissioner.
Luege, 50, took the bench on June 29, after ending her approximately 17-year career as an Assistant U.S. Attorney in May. She handles cases ranging from small claims and unlawful detainers to misdemeanors.
Luege made a name for herself as a litigator, prosecuting high-profile cases such as that of Jong Ock ‘June’ Mao — a South Korean native who was sentenced to 18 months in prison last year and who agreed to forfeit more than $10 million in property after admitting to running secret brothels, including a few in Orange County.
Luege also prosecuted the lead defendants in ”Operation Newlywed Game,’ a scheme to bring hundreds of Chinese and Vietnamese nationals here under the guise of legitimate marriages. That indictment came down in November 2005 — and all the defendants ended up pleading guilty, Luege said.
In an interview this week, the UCLA law school graduate said she enjoys her new career. She finds it less stressful than being a prosecutor.
“It’s a very different role,” Luege said of being a judicial officer. “As a judge you have to be good at listening to people … as a prosecutor you are always advocating your position.”
She also said she lives in the moment a lot more as a commissioner.
“As a prosecutor, you’re always thinking of filing the next motion, or what you need to do at the next hearing. You’re living in the future,” she said. “But as a judge, your job is to live in the moment, and deciding on matters in front of you.”
“I’m enjoying that role, and hoping it translates over to my personal life,” added the mother of three.
Luege will take her official oath as a commissioner during a ceremony at 4 p.m. Friday at Central Justice Center. Speakers include U.S. District Judge Cormac Carney and Superior Court Judge James Waltz.
O.C. lawyer plans fund-raising ascent
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
The Orange County Register
By Ron Gonzales
Climbing for kids: Joseph L. Chairez, a member of the El Viento Foundation board, will climb Mt. Kilimanjaro in December to raise funds for the organization.
The Huntington Beach-based organization provides a variety of educational and leadership opportunities for children in the heavily Latino Oak View neighborhood. Chairez, a lawyer with the Costa Mesa office of Baker & Hostetler, plans to reach the volcano's summit on Christmas and place El Viento's banner there.
To learn more about supporting the Climb For Our Kids Campaign, visit elviento.org.
Latina lawyer learned law at Harvard, gains wisdom in Compton
Attorney Luz Herrera hopes that Sonia Sotomayor, if confirmed to the Supreme Court, can get across the message that the Latino experience is already 'a part of the fabric of U.S. society.'
By Hector Tobar
June 2, 2009
I made a pilgrimage to Compton last week in search of wisdom, to a little storefront with bars over the windows and a liquor-grocer next door.
Sonia Sotomayor, the Supreme Court nominee, set me off on this quest with her oft-repeated observation that "a wise Latina woman with the richness of her experiences would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a white male . . . "
Southern California is home, arguably, to more wise Latinas than any other place in the United States. The only Latina in Obama's cabinet (Labor Secretary Hilda Solis) is from here. And I personally know dozens more, starting with my mother, my wife, my mother-in-law and assorted professors, activists and sharp-minded stay-at-home moms.
But Judge Sotomayor was referring, specifically, to the law. So I thought I should go find a smart Latina attorney and ask her if she thought that was true. Does American jurisprudence look different from a Latina woman's eyes, and if so, what does she see in the United States that a wise "white male" does not?
Until recently, Luz Herrera, 36, ran a solo law practice in Compton. She was born in Tijuana to Mexican parents and raised in heavily Latino neighborhoods of unincorporated West Whittier. But she'll be the first to tell you that her background alone didn't make her wise. Neither, she says, did Harvard Law School, from which she graduated in 1999.
"I learned to think like a lawyer there," she said of Harvard. "I learned how to be a lawyer here. That's what Compton gave me."
For much of the last seven years, Herrera was the only full-time, Spanish-speaking lawyer with an office in Compton, a community with more than 50,000 Latino residents. She was more than a lawyer, she said, to many of her clients, most of whom were working people who needed a bit of "hand holding" along with a legal brief or two.
What Sotomayor can bring to American justice, Herrera told me, is something that Herrera longs for every day: the understanding that the Latino experience is already "a part of the fabric of U.S. society" and that this truth should be reflected in our legal system.
I first read about Herrera in the Los Angeles Daily Journal in March. Columnist Martin Berg called a visit to her Compton offices "a little jolt of hope and inspiration" in the gloom of an economic crisis that's hit the legal community hard.
Herrera traveled from West Whittier to Stanford, and then from Stanford to Harvard to Compton, because she's a proud Latina. Her journey is one of those American stories that reminds us that American wisdom is, by definition, a book written by people of many different colors, faiths and outlooks.
"I went into law because I wanted to represent people from my community," said the daughter of immigrants, who graduated, as I did, from Pioneer High School in Whittier.
Hard work took Herrera to Harvard, where the grads, she said, think of their law degrees as "golden tickets." Herrera cashed in too, with a six-figure salary right out of law school. But during two years as a "corporate drone," she never entered a courtroom.
In law school she had discovered that the traditional path for Mexican American legal warriors -- civil-rights litigation -- wasn't her passion either. She wanted to do work that put her in touch with regular working people.
So in 2002 she set up a solo practice in the offices of a retiring attorney in Compton. Like Abraham Lincoln in Springfield, Herrera hung up her shingle and took on the kinds of cases that typically are the bread and butter of small-town attorneys -- divorce and child custody, bankruptcy, probate and real-estate transactions.
"I was scared and I was learning as I went along," she said.You might think of Compton as part of the big city, but in the eyes of the legal community, it's in the boondocks, Herrera said. "People think that if you're working here, you must not be a good lawyer."
But legal wisdom came, she said, in the unglamorous unfolding of cases in the satellite courthouses of Compton and Long Beach. And also in the East Los Angeles Small Claims Court, federal Bankruptcy Court and too many other places to mention.
Many of her clients were people like her own immigrant parents -- entrepreneurial, with some money to pay for a lawyer, but distrustful of the law.
There were a lot of people, she said, who were "freaked out" by the legal process. Often they ignored the summonses and legal documents that arrived in their mailboxes, hoping that the problems would just go away.
In this place some of her fellow law-school graduates looked down on, she saved people's homes and rescued their businesses.
"I thought, 'This is what I was meant to do,' " she said. "It's been a coming home."
At first, she said, she was surprised by the "sheer number" of people calling her office. Eventually, she began to see a truth about working-class Southern California that a lot of other people in the legal community either don't see or prefer not to talk about.
"There's only a system [of legal representation] for the well off, and for the very, very poor," Herrera said. Legal Aid helps the poorest people -- but your average middle or working-class family would have to go into debt to pay the $300 hourly fee typically charged by many lawyers.
Herrera has become a leading voice in the "low bono" movement for affordable legal services. These days, she's winding down her private practice and opening a new nonprofit in Compton called Community Lawyers. She runs it with three other Latinas on her board, and together they hope to help change the way legal services are provided to Los Angeles County's working people.
"Ninety percent of the population needs a new model for legal services," Herrera said. She sees Community Lawyers as an "incubator" that will bring attorneys to places like Compton at rates residents can afford.
Herrera and attorneys like her are fighting to keep the people of Compton and places like it from being priced out of the U.S. legal system. They're trying to breathe new life into the principle known as equality before the law.
That's why she finds it so thrilling that a "Nuyorican" may be on the cusp of joining the highest court in the land.
"Latinas aren't any less American than anyone else," said Herrera, who also teaches at the Thomas Jefferson School of Law in San Diego.
Diversity on the Supreme Court isn't about putting tokens on the bench. It's about reflecting a new America that already exists all around us.
Go to the traffic courts of Huntington Park, to the small claims court of East Los Angeles, and you will find people who long for American justice. They carry the simple hope that the courts and the laws belong to them too.
New Lawyers Are Asking, 'What's Next?'
Laid-off Associates Seek Temp Jobs, Pro Bono Work, While Grappling With Bleak Future
By Rebecca U. Cho
Daily Journal Staff Writer
As an associate at O'Melveny & Myers, Anthony Arnold tracked the legal blogs. He had read that Latham & Watkins laid off 440 people on a bleak Friday morning. So he was prepared on the following Tuesday in early March, when an O'Melveny representative broke the news to Arnold that he would be let go from the firm.
Now out of a job, Arnold found himself faced with a question he had not expected so soon in his young career: What next?
That is a question hanging on the minds of hundreds of bright young attorneys who have been left out in the cold after an unprecedented restructuring of law firm ranks in recent months. In February alone, at the peak of the layoffs, about 4,900 legal workers were let go from their positions. And as firms continue to shed attorneys, sometimes in stealthy unannounced moves, young associates such as Arnold have been left to grapple in a lean job market with little experience to offer prospective employers and a mountain of law school debt.
These attorneys, some from the most prestigious firms, are adapting to the dire economic environment through forging unorthodox paths for recent graduates of top law schools, such as seeking pro bono assignments allowing them to continue honing their legal skills, interviewing at temporary placement agencies or hanging out their own shingles. Some are even thinking of a career change.
"A lot of people in my generation haven't had to encounter this before. It's usually been very easy for people coming out of a good law school, they go to a good law firm, coast there for a few years," said Arnold, who was a second-year associate in O'Melveny's Los Angeles office. "Now that you're forced out, it gives you a chance to be more creative, thoughtful, reflective and see what's a better fit for you."
Arnold, who graduated from Harvard Law School in 2007, got in touch with a former law professor who was running a pro bono clinic in Compton. That professor, sole practitioner Luz Herrera, started Community Lawyers Inc. in January and was looking for a volunteer attorney to help manage some of the legal issues her clients face. This way, Arnold said, he can continue to gain legal skills doing good in his community, while searching for a paying gig.
Arnold, who left O'Melveny three weeks ago, said the number of opportunities are sparse. He said he's hoping his corporate experience will help him snag a job that blends transactional and litigation work, such as bankruptcy law.
He continues to pay off his law school debt, which he is able to afford thanks to his severance package from O'Melveny and the fact that he aggressively paid down his loans in his first year out of school. That forward thinking, he said, has given him the luxury to reflect on his next steps.
Others are not as fortunate. Those looking to earn a living while seeking full-time employment have turned to temporary, or contract, legal work that allows them to work on three- or six-month projects, or longer. Nora Plesent, a founder of Lexolution, a temporary legal staffing firm, said in the past two months, she has seen a significant rise in interest from young attorneys, many of whom have been laid off in the down economy. These attorneys are changing the profile of the typical contract attorney, which in the past has included attorneys who chose contract work over a high-powered legal career for the flexibility and quality of life it provides.
"We have lots and lots of very talented, skilled lawyers - the kinds of people who would not normally be available for temporary assignments," Plesent said. "We have people in the database generally who attended the top law schools, but the difference [now] is they had very consistent careers. They went to a top law school and went directly to a top firm. These people have the traditional lawyer on the path to senior associate to partner kind of backgrounds."
Jodie Taylor, a regional vice president in Southern California and Arizona for Robert Half Legal, a legal consulting and recruiting firm, said demand for contract attorneys is up at firms as they seek to reduce staff.
Like other lawyers laid off from Latham, Brian Chamberlayne is benefiting from a generous severance package that has bought him time for soul searching. After graduating from Cornell University Law School in 2007, Chamberlayne started in Latham's corporate practice. His plan had been to work at a big firm for several years before launching into a career as an entertainment attorney, he said. But in late February, two Latham partners walked into his office and informed him that, due to fiscal realities, the firm would be letting him go. He was given until the next week to pack up.
"It was disheartening because it was not exactly the way I was expecting to start off my career," Chamberlayne said. "But at the same time, I understand it's an unprecedented time."
With his original plan thwarted, Chamberlayne revived his interest in creative writing while he began searching for his dream job in entertainment law. Then he expanded his search to transactional jobs. But with 40 resumes sent out and no replies for an interview, Chamberlayne said, he will broaden his search even more and possibly switch practices.
"I was a corporate associate, and it looks to me now that I'll probably have to end up taking a job in litigation because there are not that many transactional opportunities out there," Chamberlayne said.
Several young lawyers also are entertaining the idea of hanging up their own shingles. Arnold said two of his friends are planning to start their own practices, one in family law and the other in insurance and health care law.
But Holly Fujie, president of the California State Bar, said these young attorneys are at risk of unintentionally exposing themselves to disciplinary action, for example, if they make errors in handling client funds or filing a case, due to their inexperience. One way the State Bar is trying to help is by offering, "The California Guide to Opening and Managing a Law Office," a book which came out in January. The guide outlines steps to finding office space and points out personnel issues that may arise that are not taught in law school, Fujie said.
Young associates may face a battle ahead when the job market begins to improve, Fujie said. She said rather than hire associates, law firms will turn back to hiring from law schools in order to re-establish their ties with those schools.
"I think it's terrible. I've never seen it this bad in my 30 years of practice," said Fujie, a partner at Buchalter Nemer in Los Angeles. "It's particularly difficult for young lawyers who are a couple years out and who get laid off. If they can't find another job, even when the economy gets better, it will be more difficult for them to move into the positions they were in before."
She said she advises laid-off attorneys to find opportunities to build up their skills in the law or business, such as in volunteering or taking a job at a pay cut in order to avoid a gap in the resume. She said some laid-off attorneys even are considering new ways to use their degrees instead of practicing the law.
"If there's anything that can be said that's good about this recession, it might make people think twice about whether they really want to be lawyers," Fujie said. "If you went into law because you were out of college and couldn't think of anything to do, maybe you can say this really isn't what I want to do."
La Raza USC Law: OC Hispanic Bar Elects La Raza Alumnus President-Elect
City of Anaheim appoints Cristina Talley as City Attorney
ANAHEIM, Calif. (April 15, 2009) – On Tuesday, the Anaheim City Council unanimously approved the appointment of Cristina Talley as Anaheim City Attorney.
“Cristina will continue Anaheim’s tradition of providing the highest quality of legal services to the City. We are fortunate to have legal counsel that is as knowledgeable and well-respected among her colleagues as Cristina Talley,” said Mayor Curt Pringle.
Talley has served the City of Anaheim since 1996, as Senior Assistant City Attorney, Civil Division, and since December, 2008 as Acting City Attorney. Prior to joining the City of Anaheim Talley was the City Attorney for the City of Pasadena, was a Partner at Adams, Duque and Hazeltine in Los Angeles, and was an Associate at the law firms of Richards, Watson and Gershon, and at Burke, Williams and Sorensen, also in Los Angeles.
Talley received her Juris Doctor from the University of Southern California, and her Bachelor’s Degree in Communication Arts from Cal Poly Pomona. She currently serves as Treasurer for the Orange County City Attorney’s Association, and is a member of the Orange County Bar Association and the Orange County Hispanic Bar Association.
The City Attorney is one of four positions that report directly to the Anaheim City Council in accordance with the City’s charter.
Honran a obispo auxiliar latino
From Black to Brown, the Color of Change
3/25/09: From the 1950s to today, how Compton, Calif. has changed (Video: Jennifer Molina, Jessica Bennett)
http://www.newsweek.com/id/40211#?l=17387292001&t=17248514001
From Tijuana to Compton, via Harvard Law
March 03, 2009
Banks turning into zombies, markets careening in free fall, law firms discarding lawyers, nonprofits pummeled, fear and gloom everywhere.
Where to go for a little jolt of hope and inspiration?
How about Compton?
That's where I met Luz Herrera, in a storefront office in a former deli on a dreary stretch of East Compton Boulevard next to a beauty parlor.
She's just your typical Tijuana-born, East L.A.-raised, Harvard Law School-educated Big Law refugee who decides to open a solo practice aimed at the working poor and entrepreneurial immigrants in southeastern Los Angeles County.
And then when she decides to launch a nonprofit, she gets decorating help on television from the "Queer Eye for the Straight Girl" reality show.
Herrera, who's 36, is part of the fledgling phenomenon known as "low bono" legal service groups. She started Community Lawyers Inc. to mentor students, offer a self-help center and hook up lawyers who pledge to offer low-cost legal services with those who don't qualify for Legal Aid but can't afford to pay market rates.
The organization officially opened the doors to its legal access center Jan. 30.
While she's focusing on getting Community Lawyers geared up, she's also been back to Harvard Law to teach, as well as taking on teaching assignments at Chapman University and Thomas Jefferson law schools, while she serves on the ABA Standing Committee on the Delivery of Legal Services.
Herrera has a lot on her plate.
While she wants to serve the needs of Compton and the surrounding area she also has her eye on helping to nurture a model of legal services in which sole practitioners could charge modest fees and provide service to a woefully under-served chunk of the population. That includes small business people who need transactional work, and many undocumented people whom Legal Aid is prohibited from helping.
Community Lawyers' self-help clinics are built on the same approach as those in courthouses with one important difference - the courthouse clinics are open during business hours, when many working people are at their jobs. Community Lawyers will offer self-help evenings and weekends.
Herrera approaches her work with a mixture of hardy idealism and healthy pragmatism. And you have a role in this, too. "I need money and I need volunteer attorneys," she said. "And we need a couple of computers and printers."
She apologized for the shape the offices were in. The place didn't look bad, like an insurance office: cubicles with computers and printers in them, and the restaurant's former kitchen serves as a conference room. It's got to be the only legal nonprofit that was designed with help from the "Queer Eye" team. Herrera explains that a Stanford University alumna worked on the show and thought the office would make a great project.
I was curious how Herrera got to Harvard, and then from Harvard to East Compton Boulevard.
She was born at a time when going back and forth across the border was much less of an ordeal. Her parents worked at whatever they could get. They bought Mexican goods, brought them across the border and sold them at swap meets. They cleaned offices at night.
Her parents were resourceful and compassionate but not political or activist. Herrera realized there was another world beyond her own when she saw barefoot kids selling gum at the border.
She was an only child, and her parents emphasized education. "When they cleaned offices and we had no sitter, I would go to these big offices and sit at some executive's desk and do my homework."
And every year her until high school on the first day, her father would go in late to work so he could take Herrera to school.
She was a good student, buoyed by gifted programs and a high school mentor. She landed at Stanford, where she was active in Latino student government and curricular reform. Between Stanford and Harvard, she did voting rights work. At Harvard, she missed the active support groups that helped her adjust to life as an undergrad. "And you had to really search for a good taco in Boston," but she said her activism was mentored by faculty members such as Charles Ogletree and Lani Guinier.
Interning at the Mexican-American Legal Defense and Educational Fund, she found that "impact litigation is not my bread and butter. I wanted more client interaction. I wanted to advance community goals and help people like my parents understand the system."
But because she didn't see a clear path to doing that kind of work, Herrera decided she would be a fool to turn down an offer from Heller Ehrman. The experience was frustrating for a new lawyer: She received little of the training that had been promised and no mentorship. In less than two years, she was on her way out of corporate practice.
A lawyer in Compton was retiring, looking for someone who could speak Spanish to take over his practice. Herrera decided to make the leap onto East Compton Boulevard and into private practice.
She acknowledges she faced many daunting challenges, including figuring out how to bill and clients who couldn't pay. In a 2007 article in "The Modern American," published by Washington College of Law, Herrera wrote candidly about what she went through: "Even though I believed in what I was doing, it was an emotional struggle that I finally won when I stopped comparing my financial status to that of my classmates and understood that the value of my work could not be measured by the digits behind the dollar sign."
Now Herrera wants to take the lessons she's learned to the nonprofit world and beyond, for example to Thomas Jefferson School of Law in San Diego, where she is setting up a clinical legal education program.
Herrera acknowledges the many difficulties facing attorneys who want to serve the community for modest fees. But the needs and the stakes are high, and the nonprofit is determined to help. "It's not easy," she said. "It's not a cookie-cutter way."
Bob Cohen, executive director of the Legal Aid Society of Orange County, who also provides legal services by contract in Compton and Norwalk, is a big supporter. His agency loaned Community Lawyers software for use in the self-help clinic. "We're all looking at budget and access situations that are quite dire, unlike anything that we've ever seen," Cohen said. "Luz is saying, 'Let's take another approach.'"
For more information on Community Lawyers, call 310-635-8182.
Bush policymaker escapes Berkeley's wrath
UC Berkeley Professor John Yoo, who crafted the administration's policy on torture, is teaching at Chapman University School of Law in Orange, where the protests against him aren't as intense.
By Susannah Rosenblatt
February 11, 2009
In Berkeley, city leaders branded him a war criminal and human rights activists put up a billboard to denounce him. But in suburban Orange County, Professor John Yoo -- the primary architect of the Bush administration's policy on harsh interrogation techniques that many consider torture -- has found relatively calmer waters.
Yoo is a visiting professor at Chapman University School of Law in Orange, on leave from his tenured post at UC Berkeley to teach foreign relations law.
Although a handful of protesters, one in a Statue of Liberty get-up and another in an orange Abu Ghraib jumpsuit and hood, demonstrated against Yoo on campus recently, law students said they appreciate the prestige and exposure he could bring the law school.
But a small group of local activists said they hope to stir up anger at the 14-year-old law school in the thick of conservative Orange County.
"Our aim is to get the man fired -- he has no business being in our community," said Pat Alviso, 56, of Huntington Beach, who heads the Orange County chapter of Military Families Speak Out. Her son is a Marine serving in Afghanistan who completed two tours in Iraq.
Chapman law school alumnus Michael Penn agrees: "I think it's a black eye to the school. . . . To me, he's a war criminal."
Yoo, a former Justice Department attorney, achieved notoriety by crafting memos -- later withdrawn by the department -- that narrowly defined torture and argued that Bush's authorization of controversial interrogation tactics against Al Qaeda did not violate the Geneva Conventions. The memos justified harsh treatment of prisoners at Guantanamo Bay and elsewhere, including the controversial waterboarding technique.
"People obviously love having someone as accomplished as he is there," said first-year law student Roxana Amini, adding that she would have preferred a different visitor. "Since Chapman's relatively new, we're just getting our name more out there. . . . Any publicity's good publicity."
That seems to be what Dean John C. Eastman had in mind when he invited Yoo, a friend from their days as clerks for Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas, to the Orange campus.
"We are working very hard at fostering a broad ideological diversity here at the law school," Eastman said. Another of Chapman law school's visiting professors this school year is human rights expert Richard Falk, who has criticized the war in Iraq.
Yoo, who has taught at a number of universities around the world, said he was eager for the chance to spend time on a smaller, newer campus and to experience living in Southern California. Students and faculty, he said, have received him amiably.
"At Berkeley," Yoo said, "if you had three or four people, weird people dressed up in costumes in the same place, that would just be like people in line buying coffee."
As a conservative voice on the liberal UC campus, and with reams of essays and articles blasting him, Yoo said he is accustomed to being in the minority.
"I certainly don't get upset about being criticized," said Yoo, sitting in his fourth-floor campus office. "I would feel I wasn't doing my job as an academic if I wasn't writing or saying things that other people disagreed with."
For the most part, students at the Chapman law school have taken Yoo's presence in stride. Even those who don't agree with Yoo's conservative-leanings aren't mobilizing for his ouster. Rather, they seem to welcome his policy experience.
"I think it's interesting to have him there," said Billy Essayli, a second-year law student who heads the campus California Republican Lawyers Assn. Still, Essayli conceded that he was surprised there wasn't a greater public outcry at Yoo's arrival in January.
Chapman law professor M. Katherine B. Darmer "vehemently" opposes Yoo's ideas on broad executive power, but respects that he has taken responsibility for his views. However, she wrote in an e-mail: "There are many other faculty members -- including others on the political right -- whom I personally would have chosen rather than someone who is so closely associated with the use of tactics such as waterboarding."
The Berkeley City Council, for one, isn't crazy about Yoo. In December, city leaders agreed to send a letter to the U.S. attorney general supporting prosecution of Yoo and other Bush administration officials for war crimes, and urged UC Berkeley to fire him if he is convicted of human rights violations.
A spokeswoman for Berkeley Law said that the university respects city officials' opinions but that the city can't direct university policy. Most agitation against Yoo comes from the community, rather than students, although some law students have worn armbands against Yoo at graduation, said spokeswoman Susan Gluss. Outside protesters crashed one of Yoo's classes at Berkeley several years ago and were escorted out by police; he's been a faculty member there since 1993.
The anti-war activist group World Can't Wait has been most active in organizing against Yoo. The group maintains a website in protest, FireJohnYoo.org, and hopes to stage panels and distribute petitions at Chapman.
Yoo's ouster is more relevant than ever, according to organizers, as last month President Obama ordered the closure of Guantanamo Bay and secret CIA prisons, and barred torture.
For his part, Yoo has stayed true to form since arriving at Chapman: Last month, he wrote an opinion piece in the Wall Street Journal criticizing President Obama, saying he had opened the door to future terrorist acts in the U.S.
susannah.rosenblatt@ latimes.com
List of Latino heroes for 2008 released
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Latino Notebook: List includes actors, educators and community leaders.
By RON GONZALES
The Orange County Register
Community heroes: Pepe Serna is an actor. Rigoberto Rodriguez is an assistant professor at Cal State Long Beach. Maria Wiese helps young people develop character through Learning for Life.
All are among the 2008 Latino OC 100 — among the most accomplished, influential and successful people, as well as unsung heroes, who are part of or serve Orange County's Latino community. This is the third year the list has been created from nominations to Stay Connected OC, led by its president, Ruben Alvarez.
A reception honoring the Latino OC 100 takes place Jan. 20 at the Delhi Community Center in Santa Ana. For information, email stayconnected2004@yahoo.com.
Here's the list as released by Stay Connected OC:
Ruben Aceves
Javier Aguirre
Terry Aguis
Lonnie Alcarez
Tina Aldatz
Eric Alderete - OC HBA Member
Coach Steve Armijo
Mario Arellano
Elizabeth Artuaga
Joel Ayala
Juan Barba
Sandra Bolton
Maria Carrillo
Mary Castillo
Richard Castro
Margarita Chavez
Mark Chavez
Ofelia Corona Hanson
Victor Cota
Regina "Gina" Maria Davidson
Rosalina Davis
Gloria De La Torre-Wycoff
Benny Diaz
David Dobos
Jorge Doffo
Jill Dominguez
Mary Jean Duran
Pete Escovedo
Bea Fernandez
Lupe Fisher
Jesus Flores
Alina Forster
Gus Frias
Juan Garcia
Gonzalo Gonzalez
Araceli Gonzalez - OC HBA Member
Jose E. Grijalva
John Gutierrez
Sandra Guzman
Maria Halverson
Janette Hyder
Maricela Juaregui
Mary Lara
Sarah Linquist
Robert Lopez
Lizbeth Lopez
Alex Lopez
Marcos Loya
Helen Lu
Juan Maldonado
Don Martinez
Ana Martinez
Juanita Martinez
Leticia Mata
Benjamin Mendoza
Dr. Al Mijares
Dr. Jose Moreno
Viola Myre
Janet Nguyen
Dr. Ana Nogales
Cecilia Novella
Diana Ornalez
Brenda Quintana
Sharon Quirk
Marcos Ramirez
Marcelo Reyes - OC HBA Member
Gloria Reyes
Roman Reyna
Angel Rivas
Tino Rivera
Maggie Rodriguez
Rigoberto Rodriguez
Christine G. Rodriguez
Ross Romero
Mark Romero
Cesar Rosas
Joni Ruelas
Rene Ruiz
Gabriel San Ramon
Maria Elena Sanfeliu de Gomez
Vince Sarmiento
David Scarbrough
Tom Serafin
Pepe Serna
Seth Sherwood
Herman Sillas
Dr. Sergio Sotelo
Gabriel Soto
Ava Steaffens
Lilia Tanakeyowma
George Tejadilla
Elizabeth Trujillo Szekeresh
Miguel Valencia
Leticia Vargas
Cesar Vargas
Christina Villasenor
Robert Villegas
Maria Wiese
Ruby Woo
Dr. Audrey Yamagata-Nogi
— Ron Gonzales