State of Oregon Law Library Legal Research Blog

“You have more energy than 3 people,” a colleague informed Justice Adrienne Nelson. Although Nelson disputes this assessment, her work speaks for itself. Nelson is Oregon’s first Black justice, Oregon's first Black state appellate court judge, and Oregon's second female Black circuit court judge. 

Justice Adrienne Nelson

Nelson was born and raised in a small town in Arkansas. Nelson “loved school.” Through hard work and skill, Nelson became the top student in her high school.

But some school board and community members did not want an African American valedictorian. Nelson’s mother, represented by attorney Mr. John W. Walker, prepared to sue the district. 

After a life-changing school board meeting, the school named Nelson valedictorian. The experience left Nelson determined “to be part of the solution and be positive change in any community I lived in.”

Nelson attended the University of Arkansas, double majoring in English and Criminal Justice. During several summers while in college, she worked for John W. Walker, the lawyer who had represented her in high school. Nelson loved her work with Walker and chose to become an attorney. After graduating college summa cum laude, she attended law school at the University of Texas.

In 1994, Nelson moved to Oregon. Originally, Nelson only planned to stay for a couple of years, but her interactions with Oregonians changed her mind. When Nelson questioned Oregonians about issues she noticed – like gentrification – Oregonians would acknowledge the problem and say, “but we want to make it better.” That willingness to change made Nelson want to stay in the state and excited to be “part of a solution.” It’s “not so much where you’ve been, but who you are and where you want to go,” reflected Nelson.

Part of making Oregon better started with Nelson’s own work. She worked at Multnomah Defenders, Inc., the law firm of Bennett, Hartman, Morris & Kaplan, LLP, and at Portland State University where she ran their student legal and mediation services.

While working at Bennett, Hartman, Morris & Kaplan, LLP, one of Nelson’s role models and mentors – Judge Mercedes Deiz (the first Black woman to become a lawyer in Oregon and the first to become a circuit court judge in Oregon) – told Nelson that she hoped she lived long enough to see her become a judge. 

Judge Deiz died in the spring of 2005. When a judicial vacancy occurred in the fall of 2005, Nelson remembered Judge Deiz’s words and her desire to be a public servant while making the judiciary more reflective of the communities it serves. Nelson applied and was appointed in February of 2006. 

When Nelson joined the Multnomah County Circuit Court in 2006, she was 1 of 2 Black judges in the state. Later that year, she became the only Black judge in the entire state until the latter part of 2007 when another Black judge was appointed.

From 2006 to 2018, Nelson worked as a trial judge while serving in the Oregon community in many capacities. When a vacancy on the Oregon Supreme Court occurred in the fall of 2017, Nelson applied because she wanted to think deeply and write about legal issues while bringing in her trial court perspective to the court.   

Justice Balmer (then Chief Justice) swears in Justice Nelson

On January 2, 2018, Governor Kate Brown appointed her to the Oregon Supreme Court. Nelson became the Oregon Supreme Court’s first Black justice and Oregon's first Black appellate judge.  Discussing Nelson’s appointment to the Supreme Court, Governor Kate Brown said, “Judge Nelson brings to our highest court an important, new voice and wealth of experience she has gained in twelve years on the trial bench.” Moreover, she noted, “Judge Nelson is a widely respected civil rights champion, whose perspective on the bench moves us closer to our shared vision of justice for all.” 

That “wealth of experience” includes years of “leaning in” as Nelson calls it. Nelson makes a point to connect with others, and she helps with any and all programs. For example, Nelson, recognizing the over-representation of minorities in the criminal justice system, organized listening sessions between the courts, police, and the people both serve. Over the years, Nelson has participated in a variety of organizations including: Oregon Women Lawyers, the Oregon State Bar, the American Bar Association, the Girl Scouts Beyond Bars Advisory Board, and the Oregon Community Foundation Metropolitan Portland Leadership Council. She also chairs the Oregon Supreme Court Council on Inclusion and Fairness.

Part of Nelson’s drive to serve and improve her community – the energy of 3 people – comes from her desire to give back. Assured she does give back, Nelson replies, “I don’t want to rest on my laurels.” 

Black History Month – Suggested Readings (Compiled by Justice Adrienne Nelson):

• Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
• Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates
• Citizen:  An American Lyric by Claudia Rankine
• Devil in the Grove: Thurgood Marshall, the Groveland Boys, and the Dawn of a New America by Gilbert King
• A Girl Stands at the Door: The Generation of Young Women Who Desegregated America's Schools by Rachel Devlin
• Foreign Soil and other stories by Maxine Beneba Clarke
• Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi
• Images of African Americans of Portland by Oregon Black Pioneers Moreland and Kimberly Stowers*
• Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison
• Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson
• Native Son by Richard Wright
• Ordinary Light by Tracy K. Smith
• Perseverance: A History of African Americans in Oregon's Marion and Polk Counties by Oregon Northwest Black Pioneers*
• Playing in the Dark by Toni Morrison
• Roll, Jordan, Roll: The World the Slaves Made by Eugene D. Genovese
• The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot
• The Known World by Edward P. Jones
• The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander
• The Prison Letters of Nelson Mandela edited by Sahm Venter
• The Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B. Du Bois
• The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson*
• Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead
• When and Where I Enter by Paula Giddings
• We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy by Ta-Nehisi Coates

*Books to read first for historical reference.

Judge Darleen Ortega

September 15th to October 15th is Hispanic Heritage Month! During this time, we celebrate Hispanic Americans and Latin American countries’ independence days – at least 7 Latin American countries celebrate independence in late September. This year, we talked to Judge Darleen Ortega – the first and only Latina appellate judge in Oregon. She was also the first woman of color appointed to an Oregon appellate court.  

For Judge Ortega, stories are the key to empathy, resilience, and creating an equitable, inclusive world. 

“I read everything I could get my hands on,” said Judge Ortega, remembering her childhood. Her experiences taught her “how powerful and impactful story writing could be.” Born in Los Angeles to a Mexican American mother and a Caucasian father, Ortega moved to Banks, Oregon when she was 10. “In all honesty, I came from a pretty troubled family,” she reflected. Her parents did not support her interest in college or law school. Despite this, Ortega graduated high school as a valedictorian, and she studied writing and literature at George Fox College. 

After college, Ortega decided to attend law school at the University of Michigan. She had what she describes as a “justice streak.” Public law interested her, as did juvenile dependency. She planned to “pick up a law degree on the way to saving the world.”

Unfortunately, “saving the world doesn’t pay well,” laughs Ortega. After her graduation in 1989, Ortega turned to private practice. It wasn’t a good fit, but she learned to “be curious” and “when to question, when to challenge” others’ perspectives – something that serves her today as a judge. She describes how there were a “lot of moments where people would ask the opinion of junior associates.” As one of those junior associates, Ortega often pointed out ways she felt the work didn’t accomplish the stated goal. It took time for Ortega to realize that they “were not waiting for a young Latina to point out their inconsistencies,” and to learn when and how to push back. 

The experience also taught Ortega to treat others – even those who disagree with her – with empathy. “Be curious. There are more or less decent people around,” she argues. To create change we need to understand why others “are operating the way they are” and to ask “what story are they telling themselves?”

She put those lessons to use. While in private practice, Ortega began mentoring programs for women at her firm, participated in Oregon Women Lawyers, and led diversity efforts at the Oregon State Bar.     

Around this time, Ortega changed her name. Throughout her time in private practice, she had used her married name, Darnall. But she and her husband had divorced, so she “didn’t feel attached to it.” At the same time, she didn’t want to use her maiden name since her relationship with her family was “fraught.” Her maternal grandfather suggested she use his last name, Ortega. The name Ortega “felt really right.”

It also changed how others saw her. Before she changed her name, when she stood up for Latinas, people would question her perspective. Darnall didn’t match their idea of a Hispanic name. After she changed her name, people argued with her less. Ortega laughs, “I was the same amount of Mexican American the whole time.” 

In 2003, when Governor Ted Kulongoski appointed Ortega to the Court of Appeals, she only received one phone call from a reporter about her historic appointment. He wanted to know why she had changed her name. There was a rumor that she had changed her name in the hopes of being appointed to the court. 

Despite this rough introduction, Ortega remembers being “so excited,” because she could actually “have an impact.” The reality was more complicated. Ortega reflects that creating change often requires “tak[ing] the long view.” For example, Ortega has written extensively on juvenile dependency, because she came from a violent home. Much of her work is attempting to “impact the questions we ask” in those cases. For example, why do we intervene only with poor families when abuse and neglect occurs with families at all economic levels?  And how well-informed are our interventions?

“The spaces where big decisions get made are very separated from those who suffer most,” reflects Ortega. Furthermore, individuals within those spaces often practice what Ortega calls “learned helplessness.” Learned helplessness is the idea that an organization can’t or shouldn’t change how it operates. Even members of marginalized communities who attain positions of influence can fall into this way of thinking, in part because they face so many challenges in being accepted inside existing structures that, as Ortega puts it, they “don’t develop the skills to challenge existing structures themselves.”

To help young lawyers and law students develop the skills they need to challenge the dominant paradigms, Ortega mentors extensively and teaches at all 3 of Oregon’s law schools. Ortega wants to help her mentees and students “develop their voice” and “take themselves seriously.” Their life experiences are unique and raise interesting questions, and she seeks to create a space where they are validated. 

Judge Ortega standing with a former law clerk, Patricia Rincon.

Ortega also mentors, because of her struggles navigating law alone. Those struggles could have been “wholly prevented if someone helped me out.” And she succeeds. As Ortega’s first clerk put it, speaking to The Oregonian, “There's no instruction manual for succeeding as a minority woman. That's why I identify with her.”

The work exhausts Ortega at times, but she copes by “keep[ing] connected to stories of marginalized people.” She reminds herself that many people of color are in danger and remembers her own privileges. As Ortega puts it, “it keeps my struggles in perspective.” It also helps her keep going, and stokes what she describes as a necessary sense of urgency. Change needs to happen, because people are suffering now. 

One way she stays connected is through the arts – although COVID-19 has made this more difficult, since festivals are canceled, and theaters are closed. For Ortega, movies are “moments of empathy” – a chance to explore a different perspective without living it. 

Movies and the arts also help Ortega in the courtroom. When reviewing cases, Ortega says, “I get curious about the stories of the case” and ask, “why are we here?” Her love for the arts helps her dive deeper into the motivations behind the case. 

Asked what movies she’s enjoyed recently, Ortega recommended Beyond the Visible: Hilma Af Klint. The documentary describes the art and impact of an abstract artist – Hilma af Klint – who was not recognized in her lifetime. In many ways, it’s a story of resilience – something Ortega knows quite a bit about, and something we all need in 2020.