Women’s History Month: Justice G. Helen Whitener on Her First Year on the State’s Highest Court

Justice Helen Whitener. Photo courtesy of Justice Whitener.
Justice G. Helen Whitener. Courtesy photo.

Justice G. Helen Whitener: Her First Year on the State’s Highest Court

Justice G. Helen Whitener was appointed to the Washington State Supreme Court in April 2020 and she was elected by the voters to retain her position on the Court in November 2020. She is the first Black woman to serve on the Washington Supreme Court, the first Black LGBT judge in the state and Washington’s fourth immigrant-born justice.

Justice Whitener was born and raised in the Caribbean island nation of Trinidad and Tobago. In 2015, at the request of the United States Embassy, she visited her home country to speak on human rights. In 2016, Whitener gave a TEDxPOS Talk, “Claiming Your Identity by Understanding Your Self-Worth,” where she discussed the empowerment of embracing respect and how it informs her philosophy and approach to living.

On March 1, 2021, ESA Equity, Diversity and Inclusion Manager, Marianne K. Ozmun-Wells sat down with Justice Whitener as part of ESA’s series on Sheroes for Women’s History Month.

Over your illustrious career, you have been the “first” in many ways. What are some of the perks and some of the pitfalls of being the “first”?

Very early on I understood that it would take serious effort to be successful in my studies and in my career. The experience of working through challenging times with a passion for justice and equity has been my anchor all along. I owe so much to the support and mentorship of my family, friends, and colleagues for believing in me, my values, and vision.

In this way, I have been able to achieve “firsts” during my career. It is my hope that these “firsts” will also inspire others to follow and realize their dreams. That I am the very first Black, gay justice appointed and then elected to a state Supreme Court in the United States of America is humbling. Equally significant is that I am the very first Black, gay woman justice appointed and then elected to the Washington State Supreme Court. I am also the first Black female to win a statewide elected office in this state. The responsibility and the weight of these firsts are not lost on me and, as time moves forward, “Herstory” will define it, both for our United States and for our state of Washington.

Being the first is a great honor and I have no complaints. Since I have never thought of myself as a “first,” when I heard that I am the first Black, gay justice confirmed to a state supreme court in this country, I just had no idea and, to tell the truth, I was quite moved by the news. The challenge of being a “first” is to understand the gravitas and not be overwhelmed by it. I know that I am creating the space, and the responsibility underlying that role is quite heavy. I have high expectations of myself, I do my best to remain grounded and approach matters with an intellectual curiosity and philosophical honesty.

I am proud to be the one who possesses a notable “first” that has come of age in this country “finally.” It has taken too long, but at least the “second,” “third” and so on are sure to follow in the near term. I am hopeful that the succession to these firsts is a short window.

How do you respond as a leader on the Court coming from the perspective of your life’s journey?

I believe it is important to create an inclusive environment, and I think it is important to point out injustices when they occur. I do hold people as well as myself accountable, when (for lack of better phrasing) when they step the wrong way. I try to start from a position that someone’s insensitivity or bias is not deliberate, that maybe they did not realize that a statement they made was offensive. Hopefully, when I have explained the offensive behavior, it does not repeat. By engaging people in a very respectful manner, I show how the behavior should and could change. Touching people’s minds and hearts, it is about that, when you’re dealing with entrenched differences.

In Kamala Harris, we have our first woman, first Black, first East Indian Vice President in United States history. What impact does that have on all of the women of color and women in general who come behind her?

I was delighted but I was also proud. She acknowledged all the intersectionalities that are part of who she is, not just race. I saw in Vice President Harris what young girls have said when they see me. As I watched our Vice President, I thought, “Yes, we can do this!” It really gives you a strong sense of pride and belonging and inspiration to keep that bar high because if she does well, we all do well. That’s a legacy of being a “first.” If you do well, we all do well.

Kamala’s success not only had to do with President Obama doing well, but also with so many successful women of color being recognized across the nation in statewide offices and federal positions. The vision was set: People could see many Black persons in high-level federal positions being successful, making way for highly qualified and deserving ethnic minorities to have the opportunities to do the same. I felt a lot of pride.

I also felt very vulnerable, for her. I was very sorry to see negative reports come out in the media toward the Vice President. This is one of the cultures that we will continue to fight against, the culture that engenders bias and hate.

You’re incredibly humble. When people meet you, with your title, they are expecting posturing. Is there a bit of a hard realization that says every Black woman who comes after you will be measured by you?

There is the burden of position, but I hope what I convey in my work is the expression of who I am, and therefore I would hope that your own work is empowered by your personal experience, values, and work ethic. That is what I mean about keeping the bar high. When you are the “first,” people have new experiences because they have never addressed someone like me in this position.

It is a reminder that I am a role model, a role that I cherish and take very seriously. I know that this position is not just about me. I am part of the Court’s history. The way I hold this position will set an example for all those who come after me. So, I intend to be the best Justice that I can be, it is my task and responsibility for those who follow in my footsteps. I want to make sure that opportunity is there for those who seek it.

You are very public about your intersectional identities as a Black immigrant LGBTQ+ woman with a disability. Why is understanding “intersectionality” so critical to the work of anti-racism and advancing true liberation and justice for all?

Justice for me is about just treatment: fair, equitable, and impartial treatment, and getting opportunities. But it is very simple; it is about just treatment.

It is important, especially when you take on a public position. It is important for me to publicly share my personal stories because I can’t help others or allow them to identify with me if they don’t know anything about who I really am. This is my personal choice.

Otherwise, you are then left with stereotypes. You may have grown up hearing negative stories or comments about Black people and other ethnic minorities. In our present day culture, we are reminded everyday how stereotypes are life-threatening for innocent people. For some people, though, all they have for reference are the stereotypes. As a public official, I want to help people understand biases in order to overcome them.

When I made the decision to become a public servant, I knew that was going to be part of the responsibility. For me it was rather easy. I have always lived an authentic life. My father used to say, to thine own self be true and that people will talk about you whether you live authentically or not. You might as well be yourself.

My self-disclosure has always been through the lens of public service, and it’s very much about giving back. I think it’s required, that’s how I saw it, and I was actually amazed at the reaction people gave me for me just being myself.

I didn’t see anything special about it. What I have observed as I moved up in my career, is the higher up I get, and the more visible I am, the more people I’m touching.

That’s where I realize, “Wow, this is important.” It’s about being visible to those that can’t be seen. It’s about having a voice and using my voice to help those who are silenced.

What some may expect is that I won’t succeed by being so publicly open. So, I think it’s very important and, as far as I’m concerned, it’s part of the job I took on as a public servant.

Your openness makes you connectable to other people, makes this trust thing happen.

That is why, I think — at least I can speak for myself — that’s why I can only be me. I have heard that comment, how I’m approachable. I think my family will not let me be anything else but.

The other thing, too, is a status that comes with the title. You have to understand, and I had this conversation just last week, a certain sense of decorum comes when I have that robe on, but we don’t walk around with a robe. I don’t walk around with that title on my name.

So, when I get off that bench and go through that front door, what the public sees is a Black woman, which is why I feel like it’s so easy for me to keep it real. I still experience the same things I did before I was in public office.

I’m still treated the same exact way the minute that robe is off, that title is off, so I have got to keep it real, I’m not allowed to forget.

It is pretty easy for people who look like me to forget that your position doesn’t matter when you walk out the door. The fact that I need to be reminded of that truth is another illustration of that difference in our country of walking around in white skin vs Brown or Black skin.

It’s the reality, but it’s one we’re making inroads in trying to address, but we need to be really cognizant of something else, and that it’s not an American thing, it’s a worldwide thing.

But what you can do is create more allies and create a level of understanding that makes everyone operate a little more respectfully with each other.

I think we need to build on respect these days.

Civility, respect, courtesy, kindness — they all seem in short supply.

For me, I’m beginning to see a lot more instances of people confusing two words: sympathy and empathy … Sympathy is not the same as empathy. Everyone seems to think we need to sympathize with another person’s position. We miss the point.

Sympathy means you want to give me your shoes because I need shoes, but that’s not really what creates a meaningful interaction between folks. That creates animosity, pity, all the wrong things.

Empathy is where you start understanding why others do not have shoes and why they need shoes and why they can’t lift themselves up by their bootstraps and the significance of that.

It’s like asking two kids, one has a ball, and asking that child with the ball to share it. It can be a difficult concept to grasp―Why should I share? It’s mine?

So you have to be patient as change can be a slow, painful process. Sharing that ball and understanding that by sharing the ball you can have more enjoyment, the interaction can be more meaningful, you can have more fun is important. Whereas if you don’t share the ball, you can only bounce it up and down and you don’t get as much engagement or enjoyment doing that.

Something as simple as sharing takes a while for kids to understand. So when we are dealing with inequities and we are asking people to share, to share means to give up something and that can take some getting used to.

What message do you have for young women in public service just starting out? What might be some of the barriers they could encounter and how would you advise them to face those barriers?

The barriers are going to be there because by design, we are late to the race.

That goes for any group that a person belongs to.

It is important, that when you can safely do so, be visible, be vocal and be vigilant for those that don’t have the opportunity. I stuck my foot in the door and when they didn’t close it, I’m stuck in there with both arms out, letting qualified people in under both arms. Don’t just get in there, but show them what you can do.

Don’t be so hard on THEM (those who insist on maintaining the status quo). Make it comfortable for them, but hold them accountable all the same, and after a while they get used to it because we make spaces better.

What message do you have for men and for women who don’t share other historically marginalized identities about how to step up, be allies and get rid of the barriers that all women but especially women of color, queer and trans women, and women with disabilities might face?

Understand empathy, sympathy and the difference. Marginalized groups aren’t asking for your sympathy, we are asking for your empathy. At least understand that our path to get wherever we are was not easy. We had to overcome all kinds of barriers.

If you have an empathetic ear it means you’re listening, you’re engaged. Something really simple, and I said it in my TEDX talk: Agreement is not necessary but respect is. We don’t have to agree to get along, it’s okay for us to not agree, but we must interact with the disagreements respectfully. I’m not looking for people just like me walking around the world; that’s not going to happen, but I think when we do interact it needs to be done respectfully.

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