assistant attorney general
Personal Information
Born on July 31, 1956, in Chicago, IL; son of Laurdine Kenneth "Pat" (a jazz musician) and Emily Mae (Wintersmith) Patrick; married Diane Bemus, 1984; children: Sarah and Katherine.
Education: Attended Milton Academy preparatory school; Havard College, A.B. (cum laude), 1978; Harvard Law School, J.D. (with honors), 1982.
Memberships: California bar, 1983; District of Columbia bar, 1985; Massachusetts bar, 1987. Director, member of the executive committee, and chairman of the New England steering committe of the NAACP Legal Defense and Education Fund, Inc., 1991-93; Trustee and executive committee member for the Milton Academy preparatory school, 1985~; overseer for public television station WGBH Boston, 1993-94; corporator for Milton Hospital, 1991-94; American Bar Association; Massachusetts Bar Association; Massachusetts Black Lawyers Association; Boston Bar Association (counsel member, 1993); Harvard Club of Boston; Harvard Alumni Association (director, 1993).
Career
Law clerk to Judge Stephen Reinhardt, US Court of Appeals, Ninth Circuit, 1982-83. Assistant counsel for the NAACP Legal Defense and Education Fund, 1983-86. Partner at Hill and Barlow law firm, 1986-94. Assistant Attorney General, Civil Rights Division, U.S. Department of Justice, 1994~.
Life's Work
Deval Patrick is the Justice Department's assistant attorney general for civil rights. He is an eloquent and impassioned champion of affirmative action and an outspoken advocate for the nation's minority and disabled citizens. His zealous enforcement of civil rights laws stems from his conviction, voiced in a Los Angeles Town Hall speech, that "legions of racial and ethnic minorities feel less of a sense of opportunity, less assured of our equality, and less confident of fair treatment today than we have in many, many years."
Deval Laurdine Patrick was born on Chicago's gritty South Side in 1956. When he was four years old his father abandoned the family to pursue a musical career, leaving Deval, his mother, and sister impoverished. The family, which spent several months on welfare, was at one point so destitute that they could afford only two beds for their basement apartment, a problem that required one of them sleep on the floor every third night.
As a child, Patrick went to the Mary C. Terrell elementary school, a building that bordered the Robert Taylor Homes, a large and notoriously dangerous housing project. So great was the threat of violence that students had to slide a pass under the school door to get inside. Young Deval worried that the rest of his academic career would be equally bleak. The Woodlawn riots, which tore Chicago apart in 1968 did little to ease his fears.
Poverty and grim surroundings notwithstanding, Deval was an outstanding student. One of his teachers recalled that even in the sixth grade his studiousness and leadership were obvious. Apparently, so was his ability to persuade an audience; when a school essay contest invited entries on "Why My Father Should Be Father of the Year," Deval won the competition with a paper entitled "Why My Grandmother Should be Father of the Year."
By eighth grade he was first in his class. A teacher encouraged him to apply to A Better Chance, a scholarship program that sent children of limited means to college preparatory schools. He applied to Milton Academy and was accepted. As he recalled for the Boston Globe, "I just got a letter one day from Milton . . . [that] said you are admitted to Class 4. I wasn't sure it wasn't a military academy until I got there. The whole letter was in a language I didn't quite understand."
This language barrier became even more apparent several months later, when Deval arrived for the first day of school. In a story he has repeated often, Patrick says that the list of required clothing sent by the school called for a jacket, and his proud family splurged on one. Only as his classmates were dressing for dinner that evening did Deval realize his error--the school wanted its students in blazers, not the windbreaker he was wearing.
The Milton Academy campus was far removed from the harsh reality of urban life, and Deval was awed by its beauty and tranquillity. He was also terrified by the enormous changes he experienced. His fear gradually subsided, however, as he began to enjoy life there. He finally had a room of his own and could learn without the omnipresent menace of danger he had endured in Chicago. He had a paper route to earn money. And he had his family's unwavering love and support--even if they were hundreds of miles away.
As Deval settled into his new academic life his natural ability once again began to emerge. He recited Kipling's poem "If" during an assembly, giving a performance so stirring that it moved his Latin teacher, Francis Millet, ("a very dry and formal sort of person with this incredible heart and soul," Patrick later recalled in the Boston Globe) to tears. "That's the kind of thing that makes a kid like me--or a kid from Nepal--believe that things are going to work out."
"Milton Academy was kind of watershed for him," said Judge Reginald Lindsay, a former colleague who is now a federal district judge in Boston, in a New York Times article. Patrick himself said in a speech later reprinted in the Chicago Tribune that during his time at Milton "I learned to appreciate education as more than accumulated information and prestige, but instead, to borrow from Robert Frost, as "learning to listen to anything, without losing your temper or your self-confidence."
At Milton, Deval struck up a friendship with A. O. Smith, an English teacher who had taught at the school for 40 years, and his wife Aubrey. "He was so at ease with who he was," Patrick told the Boston Globe, "and that made it possible for him to open up to a whole group of people." The couple befriended him, taking him to Cape Cod during vacations where, as Aubrey Smith remembered, they would "chop wood, drink hot chocolate, and talk about the world."
His life and friendships at school began to have a noticeable effect on him, he told the Boston Globe. During one visit back home, his sister exclaimed, "He talks like a white boy." The remark triggered an uncomfortable silence. "He speaks like an educated boy," his grandmother corrected her.
But there were still a few shadows in Deval's life. One night when he was 15 years old, he recounted in the Washington Post, during a trip to McDonald's with his housemaster, "I remember...this incredible scene where the kids in the parking lot started banging on the window and shouting and chanting, "N-----! N-----! Get out of here!"... The housemaster was nervous and was trying to hustle us out of there....We got in the car and of course he didn't know what to say." But Patrick recalled his own reaction vividly: "I mean it's a lot that you feel: angry, you feel terrified, you feel helpless. The worst that happened was that someone, a couple people, threw their cigarette butts at me. Nobody actually hit me, but you still feel wounded. And if you're not real careful, you can feel ashamed too ... of who you are--and what you are--which is a disaster."
Patrick's success at Milton paved the way for an equally impressive college career. He applied to five Ivy League universities: Yale, Princeton, Georgetown, Trinity, and Harvard, the one he wanted most because it was his mentor A. O. Smith's alma mater. He was admitted to all of them and was particularly thrilled by the beautiful calligraphy of Harvard's acceptance letter. He told the story in his Los Angeles Town Hall speech.
"Now, while everyone at Milton is of course expected to go to college, you must understand that no one in my family had ever been. I had applied to five colleges, but there was only one I really wanted. When the letter came on April 15 that I was admitted to that one, I called home and my grandmother picked up the phone. I told her my news, that I was going to Harvard. She told me how proud she was of me, so pleased, so excited, then she paused and said, "Where is that anyway?" His grandmother's words, he said, gave him an important perspective on success: "And I never forgot. Not at Harvard. Not at Harvard Law School. Not through any of the extraordinary experiences or associations I have had since that day."
In his undergraduate studies Patrick majored in English and American literature, where he discovered a particular fondness for the works of Mark Twain. His scholastic ability-~he graduated cum laude--helped him win a $5,000 Rockefeller Fellowship, which he used to study and travel--albeit on a shoestring--in Africa. During his year-long journey, he kept an application to Harvard Law School in his backpack. One night, in the desert, he wrote the required essay and filled out the form by flashlight. The school informed him of his acceptance via telegram sent to Khartoum.
Legal studies further honed Patrick's skills as a speaker and a leader. His team won a spot in the school's Ames Moot Court finals, a competition in which law students prove their skills by arguing actual cases before a Supreme Court justice. Patrick's team asked him to present the oral argument; he was named best speaker in the competition. He was also chosen to head Harvard's Legal Aid Bureau, an organization that gives legal services to the needy. In what would become a familiar type of case for him, Patrick defended a fellow Harvard student, also black, after he was arrested while driving with his white girlfriend.
After graduating with honors from Harvard Law School, he won a coveted clerkship with a federal judge in California, Stephen Reinhardt of the US Court of Appeals, Ninth Circuit. In 1983 he began to practice law in earnest when he joined the NAACP Legal Defense and Education Fund, challenging racially biased death- penalty convictions and voting-rights cases.
In 1985 Patrick and other NAACP lawyers successfully defended three Alabama civil rights advocates who had been accused of fraud by the Justice Department in a voter-registration drive. In another case, Patrick prevailed against the state of Arkansas and its then- governor Bill Clinton for registration violations in conflict with the Voting Rights Act. "The right to vote is at the heart of a meaningful democracy," he later declared in a speech to the Organization of Chinese Americans. In his Los Angeles Town Hall speech he elaborated, "A person who is denied an effective voice in the governance of his nation simply cannot feel the same sense of investment in the affairs of that nation."
One of Patrick's biggest cases for the NAACP was McCleskey v. Kemp, the 1987 Supreme Court death-penalty appeal of Warren McCleskey, a black man who had murdered a white policeman. Patrick argued that his client's sentence should be overturned because capital punishment was unconstitutional. He based his defense on a study of 2,000 Georgia murder convictions which found that those who killed whites were sentenced to death 11 percent of the time, while only one percent of those who killed a black victim were similarly convicted. The study also revealed that blacks convicted of murder received the death penalty more often than whites, a bias that Patrick argued confirmed the illegality of capital punishment. The court disagreed, and McCleskey's sentence stood.
In 1986 Patrick left the NAACP to become a partner at Hill and Barlow, the respected Boston law firm that had once employed governors William Weld and Michael Dukakis. There Patrick continued to devote much of his time to pro bono social and political causes. In one case whose outcome he found particularly satisfying, he defended a group of low-income homeowners, most of them elderly black women, who said they had been illegally pressured into high- interest home-improvement loans by BayBanks, a local financial institution. In the settlement Patrick negotiated, BayBanks set aside $11 million to be used for low-income, low-interest housing loans. In another high-profile case Patrick represented beauty contestant Desiree Washington in her civil suit against boxer Mike Tyson.
On February 1, 1994, Patrick was nominated by President Bill Clinton to the post of assistant attorney general for civil rights. His nomination followed the unsuccessful bids of Lani Guinier, a law professor at the University of Pennsylvania (and Patrick's cocounsel during his years at the NAACP), and John Payton, the District of Columbia corporation counsel, for the same position. Guinier had been faulted for what critics contended were her undemocratic proposals to increase minority representation and political clout. Payton withdrew after detractors denounced both his spotty voting record and his reluctance to use legal challenges to construct black-majority voting districts. Patrick's nomination was successful despite the similarity of his views to Guinier's, because unlike her, he lacked a paper trail of academic writings for opponents to seize upon. His solid experience as a civil rights lawyer also weighed heavily in his favor.
During his Senate confirmation hearings Patrick announced his intention, reported in the New York Times, to use the civil rights post as a "bully pulpit," and said that he would "move firmly, fearlessly, and unambiguously to enforce the antidiscrimination laws." He added that he believed it was Justice Department's responsibility to take the lead, "shaping policies and [filing] lawsuits that promote the notion of an inclusive democracy." His admirers said that Patrick's bold and direct approach would be a sea change from past years, reflecting the Clinton administration's more aggressive civil rights policies. Patrick's nomination was confirmed by the Senate on March 17, 1994.
Once in office, Patrick moved vigorously to reorganize the Justice Department's priorities. He assembled a team of government lawyers to defend legal challenges to voting districts that had been drawn to concentrate black and minority voters. His department also
settled the Denny's restaurant public accommodations lawsuit--the largest in American history--by convincing the chain to pay $45 million for alleged racial discrimination.
In another case that recalled the BayBanks settlement, Justice Department lawyers were able to force a Maryland bank, Chevy Chase Federal Savings, to serve black neighborhoods and provide low- interest loans to their residents. Even though the bank had not discriminated against anyone, Patrick and Attorney General Janet Reno criticized the financial institution because it avoided serving certain minority districts. The bank reluctantly agreed to a settlement in which it would designate $11 million to build new branches and provide below-market-rate loans and mortgages to minorities. This greatly worried members of the financial community, who protested that the Justice Department had exceeded its authority.
Others voiced similar complaints. A particular nemesis, Clint Bolick, a Wall Street Journal columnist and litigation director for the nonprofit law firm Institute of Justice, charged that Patrick used the threat of government litigation to force companies into settlements. "Mr. Patrick," he wrote, "seems determined to pursue high-profile cases that less resemble objective law enforcement than naked extortion." Nor is friction confined to the press: Patrick has felt antagonism from members of Congress as well.
Patrick acknowledges the criticism as part of his job, but it still makes him uncomfortable. "Being a lightning rod takes getting used to," he told Business Week. "If I walked on water, certain of my critics would still say that Patrick can't swim." He commented in the Washington Post that "[t]he job brings...difficult choices...because they're not always obvious choices under the law."
Patrick stands by his decisions, however difficult reaching them may be, because he is convinced that racism and discrimination can only be addressed by vigilant federal enforcement of civil rights laws. He cites statistics on hate crimes and the many accusations of police brutality brought by minorities to further his claim, and recalls his own bruises from the slings and arrows of discrimination. "To understand civil rights," he said in his swearing-in speech, which was quoted in the Washington Post, "you must understand how it feels. How it feels to be hounded by uncertainty and fear about whether you will be fairly treated. How it feels to be trapped in someone else's stereotype."
His mission, as he articulated it to the Organization of Chinese Americans, "is to reclaim the American conscience....to restore the great moral imperative that civil rights is finally all about; to recreate the shared national consensus that discrimination is wrong; and to return the language of civil rights to its essence, back to concepts of equality, opportunity, and fair play....We are a great nation, it seems to me, not just because of what we have accomplished, but because of what we have committed ourselves to become. And it is that sense of hope, that sense of looking forward, that I believe has made not only our civil rights movement, but ourselves as a nation, an inspiration to the world."
Awards
Michael Clark Rockefeller Traveling Fellowship, 1979; Harvard Law School George Leisure award, 1981.
Further Reading
Periodicals
- Boston Globe, April 23, 1987, National/Foreign section, p. 1.; April 25, 1987, Metro section, p. 17.; September 23, 1993, Living section, p.63.; February 2, 1994, National/Foreign section, p. 10; May 8, 1994, Focus section, p. 67; March 25, 1995, National/Foreign section, p. 1.; July 22, 1995, National/Foreign section, p. 8.
- October 26, 1994, p. A1.; October 21, 1995, National/Foreign section, p. 4.
- Business Week, Legal Affairs section, December 12, 1994.
- Chicago Tribune, June 22, 1994, section 1, p. 23.
- New York Times, February 2, 1994, p. A13.; March 11, 1994, section A, p. 24.
- Newsweek, February 13, 1995, p. 34.
- Wall Street Journal, October 26, 1994, p. A1; March 14, 1995, section A, p. 18; April 5, 1995, section A, p. 11; April 24, 1995, Letters to the Editor, section A, p. 15.
- Washington Post, September 23, 1993, Living section, p.63; February 2, 1994, p. A1; February 14, 1994, p. A13; May 8, 1994, Focus section, p. 67; March 25, 1995, National/Foreign section, p. 1.; July 22, 1995, National/Foreign section, p. 8.; August 9, 1995. Op- ed section; August 20, 1995, section C, p. 6.
- Patrick, Deval Laurdine. "The Rise in Hate Crime." Speech delivered at the Organization of Chinese Americans, Los Angeles, July 8, 1994. Vital Speeches LXI, no. 1, October 15, 1994, pp. 13-15.
- "Struggling for Civil Rights Now: Let Us Recapture Our Perspective." Speech delivered at the Town Hall Los Angeles Luncheon, Los Angeles, October 4, 1994. Vital Speeches LXI, no. 3, November 15, 1994, pp. 91-96.
— Amy Loerch Strumolo




