“Mami, even a man can be a lawyer,” Tony, my six-year-old son, told me one afternoon when I got home from work.

“Well, of course, he can," I explained, "a man can be anything he wants.”
That day, Tony had learned that his friend’s father was a lawyer.

What a revelation.

I was then the Executive Director of a women’s legal advocacy organization, and all the lawyers in my office were women. He had never met a male lawyer at my office or when my colleagues visited our home for social gatherings.

I love using this story to remind us that each of us has preconceived notions about countless things: about them and about us, about people from socio-economic classes different from our own, about women, about immigrants, about people from different religious faiths. About who does which kinds of jobs. Where did we get these beliefs? Be open to the possibility that you might change your mind about something you think is true.

“I loved Irma and her performance! I could have listened all day. Irma is warm and accessible. Her performance led to a rare opportunity to talk about our experiences with our co-workers, conversations we don’t usually have, and which people everywhere should be having in these tense times. Our small group discussion was great and filled with hope. Brava!”
~Lawyer, Hanson Bridgett Law Firm, San Francisco

Growing up in a poor and segregated rural community in South Texas, I always questioned things that seemed unfair. My mother, exasperatedly said “muchacha eres una abogada sin libros.” Who did I think I was, acting like I was some lawyer? That's probably where I got the idea of becoming a lawyer, although I had never known or even seen a lawyer in real life. The civil rights lawyers who challenged segregated schools, employment discrimination, and access to public services inspired me. They were key players in the fight for civil rights. I wanted to be one of them.

I am the first in my family to graduate from university. As a young civil rights lawyer at the Mexican-American Legal Defense and Educational Fund (MALDEF), I loved winning cases; but it wasn’t enough to win. I wanted to change people’s hearts and minds -- the attitudes and behaviors -- that underlie the belief that some groups of people are better than others. So, I left law and became a freelance journalist. My articles about race, class, gender, and culture were published in the NY Times, the Washington Post, Ms. Magazine., and many local and regional publications.

I returned to law and spent several years at a corporate law firm, but eventually returned to civil rights lawyering. During my last 15 years as a lawyer, I was the Executive Director of San Francisco-based Equal Rights Advocates (ERA), a national women’s legal advocacy organization. After ERA, I returned to writing. A class titled Telling Our Stories at a local theater and a week-long workshop with the renowned playwright Anna Deavere Smith inspired me to write my one-woman show, Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name? The play is a living, breathing work that changes to reflect current events. It has been enthusiastically received by reviewers and audiences.

Lawyer, journalist, playwright, solo performer—these are different ways of working towards the same goal: examining our biases and prejudices and exploring how we can create a better world for ourselves and future generations.