Not long after Audrey B. Collins was named chief judge of the U.S. District Court in Los Angeles, she found herself pondering what she might say at an upcoming luncheon, the sort of affair she'd routinely be expected to attend in her new capacity as the public face of the court.
But as Collins considered her remarks, she realized there was nothing routine about this gathering. She'd been asked to speak to a group of female Afghan attorneys and judges visiting the United States, women who risked their lives every day by practicing law in defiance of the Taliban.
The standard fare for lunchtime speeches, such as court statistics, judicial vacancies and cost-of-living increases for federal judges, wasn't going to cut it with this crowd, Collins concluded.
So she decided to tell her own story, one that makes her, in at least one respect, a highly unusual member of the federal judiciary: Collins, 63, is the granddaughter of a slave.
With the help of her administrative law clerk, the judge put together a slide show detailing her family history intertwined with images from the civil rights movement. Collins said she intended to inspire the Afghan attorneys to persevere.
"They don't need courage. They've got plenty of that," Collins said. "I wanted to give them some hope."
Collins takes over as chief judge as the number of criminal prosecutions by the U.S. attorney's office is rising and there are several judicial vacancies to be filled. She also inherits the years-long struggle to secure funding for a new federal courthouse that would put all of the judges and court staff in downtown Los Angeles under one roof.
Collins was born in 1945 in Chester, Pa. Both her father and grandfather waited until later in life to have children, which accounts for her being only two generations removed from slavery. After being freed sometime around the 1860s, her grandfather worked his way through elementary school and high school. He then was ordained as a minister.
Her father was a dentist who built a community-oriented practice in Chester, a hardscrabble town west of Philadelphia. Though professional success offered some buffer from racism, it was not complete. The judge recalled, as a young girl, excitedly coming home to a new house in a neighborhood where hers was the first black family.
When they opened the front door, they saw that someone had broken in, plugged the sinks and bathtub, turned on the water and flooded the place.
