“Don’t Come—Your Sister’s Boyfriend Is a Judge,” My Dad Texted—Monday Morning, He Learned Who Really Was

Just someone willing to stand up and fight, even when nobody was watching.

Especially when nobody was watching.

That’s what I’d been doing in the Bronx for six years.

And that’s what I would keep doing now, from a bench instead of a podium, with a gavel instead of a briefcase.

The work was the same.

The mission was the same.

Only the view had changed.

And continue reading …