My deep affection for the children I worked with in the Special Victims Unit eventually led me to make a choice that surprised a lot of people: I transitioned to the public defender’s office. When Stephen Bush started the juvenile defender unit, I chose to go because I saw a massive, undeniable crossover between the child victims I had been protecting and the kids who were suddenly being charged with delinquent acts.

I spent six and a half years working with those youth, and it was some of the most grueling, eye-opening work of my life.

When you look closely at juvenile delinquency, you quickly realize that almost every kid entering the system is carrying an overwhelming burden of trauma—what psychologists call Adverse Childhood Experiences, or ACEs. These kids are dealing with severe adult problems—poverty, loss, domestic violence, systemic neglect—problems that no child should ever have to carry.

Sitting at the defense table with these juveniles and their families, trying to navigate a system that often lacks the resources to truly heal or redirect them, gives you a completely different perspective on accountability. It taught me that holding someone accountable doesn't mean you have to strip away their humanity.

I’ve sat with kids charged with everything from minor shoplifting to the most severe offenses, like murder. Let me be perfectly clear: public safety demands firm, unyielding boundaries, and serious actions must carry serious consequences. But even in the gravest cases, these are still human beings, and their families are still members of our community.

This "cross-over" experience is exactly what Shelby County needs on the bench right now. Too often, our legal conversations are driven by loud, polarizing rhetoric. People want to label candidates as either "tough on crime" or "soft on crime." My time in juvenile justice taught me that the only label that matters on the bench is just.

Because I have sat on both sides, I can see through the smoke and mirrors. I know when a young person needs a firm, corrective intervention to alter a dangerous trajectory, and I know when a violent offender poses a direct threat to our neighborhoods and must be removed. True justice requires the wisdom to know the difference, the courage to make the hard call, and the experience to ensure the law is applied correctly every single time.