This is the property of the Daily Journal Corporation and fully protected by copyright. It is made available only to Daily Journal subscribers for personal or collaborative purposes and may not be distributed, reproduced, modified, stored or transferred without written permission. Please click "Reprint" to order presentation-ready copies to distribute to clients or use in commercial marketing materials or for permission to post on a website. and copyright (showing year of publication) at the bottom.

More Than One Way

By Kari Santos | Sep. 2, 2011
News

Law Office Management

Sep. 2, 2011

More Than One Way

I wanted to be a prosecutor because I saw it as the best way for me to help my community.

I often speak at high schools about the importance of education and how a strong academic foundation allowed me to attend a good college and ultimately graduate from law school. At one presentation I gave more than a decade ago, I talked about how I felt socially isolated at a top prep school in San Francisco but ultimately grew to appreciate the academic experience.

I was one of only six African-American students attending my high school. I'm a third-generation San Franciscan who grew up in the predominantly African-American Bayview section of the city, and part of the first generation not raised in the projects. Supposed cultural shortcomings aside, I was well prepared for both college and graduate school.

My first job out of law school was as a prosecutor in San Francisco. But when I told my family and friends that I would be working for the district attorney's office, they expressed more indignation than support. "Why can't you do something to help this community?" they asked.

My grandmother was a well-known community advocate and my mother was a public defender. People familiar with me and my family assumed that since I had often spoken passionately about racial justice, I would go into criminal defense. But I wanted to be a prosecutor because I saw the job as the best way for me to help my community. I knew that the record-breaking numbers of people of color in the criminal justice system were reflected among the victims of crime as well. I wanted to be a voice for those victims in the courtroom, and I also wanted to take an active role in defining accountability for communities in the city where I grew up.

In my 16 years in the district attorney's office, I've learned that there's more than one way to be an advocate for justice. Though criminal defense is important and worthy work, the system can't be about "us vs. them." Nor is just being "tough on crime" enough. It has to be about all of us working together. It's also about healing our communities and helping people who want a better life find their way out of the prison system. That's why I have worked hard to develop the juvenile drug and community justice courts, domestic violence and hate crimes programs, and to put rehabilitation programs in place. Now we have more tools at our disposal than incarceration.

It's also important that the staff in the DA's office reflect the population of the city it serves. When I started there in 1995, I was the first African American the office had hired in more than five years. So I made it my mission to get involved in recruiting and hiring. Eventually I became the "go-to guy" for résumés and applicants, and by 2003 I was assigned to head the hiring process. Back then only a handful of interns came through the office each year, so I instituted an internship program to create a conduit of successful legal experiences for a more diverse pool of participants. Today the San Francisco DA's office hosts more than 350 interns a year. Over the past ten years the diversity of our employees-including women, people of color, and lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people-has increased by more than 85 percent.

Part of the reason I make public appearances is to encourage students to go to college and maybe law school. You never know whom you'll affect. One day in 2009, I got a call.

"I'm not sure if you remember me," a hesitant woman's voice said over the phone.

I didn't.

"My name is Pam Stubblefield, and you gave me your business card when I was in high school eleven years ago." She had held onto my card all through college, and now she was about to graduate from law school. I was the first African-American lawyer she had ever met. Pam told me how my talk all those years ago inspired her to become an attorney, and she now practices family law in the Bay Area.

I was humbled by Pam's recollection and the way in which my journey partially inspired hers. Since her call, we have become friends and peers. And I continue to speak at events and tell audiences that they, too, can make a difference, whether it's speaking out on an important issue, getting involved in diversity initiatives, or being a mentor.


Paul Henderson is deputy chief of staff for the San Francisco mayor's office and chief of administration for the district attorney's office.

#264832

Kari Santos

Daily Journal Staff Writer

For reprint rights or to order a copy of your photo:

Email Jeremy_Ellis@dailyjournal.com for prices.
Direct dial: 213-229-5424

Send a letter to the editor:

Email: letters@dailyjournal.com