Issue link: http://maconmagazine.uberflip.com/i/1543312
50 maconmagazine.com | February/March 2026 of the statute that tells them the ways in which a decision can be appealed. I would explain to them why I'm having to affirm that decision below, because I wanted them to leave my courtroom recognizing that while they didn't prevail, at least… they understood why I couldn't do more than what I was doing. I think that's important, for people to walk away from a judiciary experience — maybe being upset that they didn't win but knowing that the person who sat in that chair on the bench really listened to them, heard them, and explained to them what was happening. What does being a hero mean to you? I don't see myself as a hero. But I guess when you think of heroes, you think of people who you look up to, who you might want to emulate in some way. I'm thinking about my two heroes that made me go into a life of service… Jesus Christ and Martin Luther King, Jr. I think that's what a hero is, someone who people can look to and say they're concerned about something other than themselves. Someone who focuses on others and making the lives of others better — or at least enhancing them and sharing what they have with them. Sharing insights, sharing wisdom, sharing their time and their concern. How would you like to be remembered by the Macon community? As you get older, it becomes clearer. I lost my mom. It'll be two years on January 15th, Martin Luther King's birthday. It's ironic. One of my lifelong heroes, with my hero. I think about my mortality since her death, I've always thought about that. I love people, and if people just remember that, that's enough. Maybe that will inspire them to give of themselves, to love others, and to really make that their life's mantra. Has there ever been a specific case that reminded you of why this work matters? When I was an ADA, I did a lot of murders of children and to vindicate their rights — to show their humanity — mattered, even though they might have been under the age of three. Those continue to stay with me, because I stood for the child. The child that couldn't speak for themselves. I've done some hard cases. I've done a death penalty case, and to this day, I think about the young man — who's still living — who was autistic, and how he's navigating life without his mom. I think one of the most profound, impactful things I did while being a jurist on the lower level was mental health court… seeing people's lives change, recognizing they have value, that they matter, and that they can do anything anyone else can do if they're compliant with their medication and the therapy, and just seeing people's eyes light up to realize someone of my stature cares. That meant the world to me. You can see it on a daily basis, because you're interacting with regular citizens, and on the appellate level, we're interacting with lawyers. They come to court, and they advocate for a person who they feel has been wrongly convicted, or their civil rights, as far as monetary rights or property rights, have been violated. It's very different. What is something you hope people leave your courtroom with, regardless of the end result? Whenever anyone encountered me, I always hoped people le my courtroom knowing that I saw them, that I really saw them and their situation One of the prime examples is when people have administrative hearings, like with workers comp or Social Security, they can appeal to Superior Court. Even though the cards were stacked against them once that administrative agency made their decision, I would take efforts to give them a copy bit dismayed that I spent so much time talking to defendants — in this courtroom, we see people. What I meant by that is, I'm taking time to figure out who this person is by the history but also engaging them in conversation, so I can figure out how best shall I decide this matter, so that they can move from this and possibly do better. My profession doesn't take away my empathy or my compassion. I believe in accountability, but I also believe that there's room for grace. I metered that out when I was on superior court, and now on the appellate court, our role is to follow the rule of law. I always say I like the fact that nobody can pigeonhole me, because my decisions are not based on an agenda. Sometimes I'm one way, sometimes the other, and it's based upon my interpretation of the law. I think I owe that to every Georgian. What are some common misconceptions that people have about judges? Strictly on the Superior Court level, we don't have citizen guideline ranges like they do on the federal court, but we do have minimums and maximums, and so judges have discretion. Judges are just like people. We all come from different perspectives, different backgrounds, the way I may view something may be different from another judge. On the appellate side of the court, we're a court of correction. We don't have the ability to go through and change things just because we think a jury may have made the wrong decision. We look to see whether there are errors in the lower court, and then we have to correct it, so the law will be clear to people who have to abide by that law moving forward. Regardless of what the political atmosphere is, now, I need everybody to know that on the Georgia Supreme Court, all of us are work together collegiately very well. All of us are really geared towards, what is the interpretation of the law? What does it take for us to follow the law, and are we doing so? We push each other to ensure that we're doing that. Most of the time… we're unanimous in our decisions, but sometimes people disagree, and in that way, we dissent. I think that's fine too, because I think that's how law continues to evolve. "I always hoped people left my courtroom knowing that I saw them, that I really saw them and their situation… even if they didn't get the result they wanted."