Jerel McCrary, Tanya Nieman & Judi Anderson - Three Inspiring Social Activists

Speech given by Jerel McCrary the night he received the Tanya Nieman Award for Social Justice and Advocacy.

I want to thank the members of the Domestic Violence Consortium and Partners Ending Domestic Abuse for honoring me with the Tanya Neiman Social Justice Award. I can honestly say that there is no award I would feel more honored to receive, both because this award is a recognition by the community and colleagues with whom I have worked for over half of my professional career, and because it is an award named for such an inspiring leader and friend.

Any credit for work that I have done, has to be shared with the dedicated attorneys and advocates I work with at Bay Area Legal Aid. None of us can achieve our goals for economic justice and a society freed from the bane of domestic abuse, without the support of our co-workers, our community and friends. That very notion of the power of collaboration is what the Domestic Violence Consortium and Partners Ending Domestic Abuse are all about. Each of our organizations is stronger and all of our work has more impact because of the community of concern that is represented by the tireless advocates and supporters in this room tonight.

I want to talk with you for a moment about two special people whose lives have inspired the work you are recognizing tonight. One of those people is someone most of you knew as a friend and colleague–Tanya Neiman. The other is someone you do not know, my friend and former co-worker Judi Anderson. I have talked with Judi about telling her story, and she has graciously allowed me to do so.

Nearly 30 years ago a group of young law graduates and their friends decided that the time was right to open a public interest law firm dedicated to fighting for civil rights for gay men and lesbians. In retrospect, our timing may have been premature by about a decade, but Gay Rights Advocates (GRA) officially opened on Castro Street on Easter 1978, complete with Armistead Maupin in a big pink bunny suit. No one who was there will ever forget. Well, at the core of GRA was Judi, who served as office manager, secretary, general factotum confidant, friend and the true heart of the organization. What I did not know for some time after Judi and I first met, was that as close as we were and as much as we shared our problems and dreams, there was one thing that Judi did not share with me. She was suffering severe emotional and physical abuse from her ex-spouse. When this fact became unavoidably apparent, we all talked with Judi and discussed restraining orders and other legal remedies. She said that there was nothing we could do that would make her safer. In fact, anything we did was likely to make things worse.

The very fact that she was working with a group like Gay Rights Advocates put her in more jeopardy. She was in more physical danger and also risked losing custody of her daughter. Now, again, this was almost 30 years ago, so both the civil and criminal laws concerning domestic violence were woefully inadequate. Police called to the scene of a domestic violence incident, if they even showed up, were most likely to tell the abuser just to walk around the block and cool off.

So, Judi was probably right. We could commiserate, but it seemed we were ultimately helpless to offer any truly effective intervention. For a number of years, I was disturbed by that sense that there was a largely unacknowledged scourge afflicting women and children in our community that we seemed unable to affect. I felt personally that I had failed my friend.

Well, both Judi and I left Gay Rights Advocates, before the organization itself disappeared, and although we drifted apart for some years, I was always aware of her personal commitment to bettering the lives of those around her, even when her own life was difficult. She volunteered for many years as a support group leader for people with AIDS, an issue of personal importance to me. She worked hard for passage of the Equal Rights Amendment and now volunteers with Habitat for Humanity. I will always recall getting a call from her the night that the time to pass the ERA expired. She had been at a rally in San Francisco and said, without the obvious bitterness which would have been justified, "You know I have been to the rallies protesting the Briggs Initiative and supporting gay rights, but I saw very few of the men I know at the ERA rallies and events." I was on the other end of phone, so obviously I was one of the missing men to whom she had referred. The righteousness of her comments struck me that night. So much of what my community had achieved was due to the struggle for women’s rights and to the many brave women, like her, who had selflessly supported my rights to equality, even at risk to themselves.

So we fast forward to 1989. I had worked as an Assistant DA, done private practice and some trial consulting work, but I had not found again the sense of social commitment and the passion for service to community that I had felt in working at Gay Rights Advocates and with people like Judi. But in searching for something that was both a real, paying job and could satisfy those personal desires I came across the announcement for a job at the then San Francisco Neighbrohood Legal Assistance Foundation–the predecessor to Bay Area Legal Aid–representing victims of domestic violence. Apparently the stars were aligned right, because I once again found a group of people who shared a commitment to bettering the lives of those struggling for justice in our society. And, not incidentially, I felt like I could finally give something back to people like Judi who had inspired me and had given so much to issues so dear to me.

Now I have continued doing this work along with many of you over the past 17 years. As you all know, this is an area of work that takes an emotional and sometimes even a physical toll on those who do it for very long. And, it is here that I want to talk about our friend Tanya Nieman. Most of you are aware of her many professional accomplishments and the debt that the community of domestic violence advocates, especially in San Francisco, owes to her. She was literally the founder, one of the early organizers, or the guiding light of a number of the organizations here tonight, including the Domestic Violence Consortium, Partners Ending Domestic Abuse, Volunteer Legal Services Program and the Cooperative Restraining Order Clinic. It is no stretch to say that her professional contributions have made the lives of all of our clients better. I met Tanya around 25 years ago and over the years we worked together on a number of committees, served together on the Board of the Cooperative Restraining Order Clinic and collaborated on various policy initiatives together. But, what I will always recall most fondly about Tanya is my relationship with her as a friend and colleague. She was someone who was always as much concerned with your personal welfare as she was with whatever business may have brought you together. Tanya was, I believe, the most thoroughly integrated person I have ever met. She never lost her personal touch in professional situations and never forgot her political passion in social interactions. You never felt that you were getting less than the whole person with Tanya–what you saw was truly what you got. And, need I say, what you got was a challenging, unique, and utterly charming individual.

I often found myself venting to Tanya about frustrations concerning some ill-considered piece of legislation, an incomprehensible court policy or the periodic political and financial threats to legal services for the poor. She could always seem to refocus me on why I was doing what I was doing and encourage me to think that there would be a way to continue the work even in a hostile political environment. And at some point in the conversation, she would lean in, take hold of my lapel and ask, “So, buddy, how are you doing?” Even when she herself was not doing well, her concern for my welfare was foremost. When I was on medical leave a couple of years ago, it was Tanya who called me at home to encourage me and see what she could do to help. When I received any special recognition, there was a card from Tanya saying how proud she was. It is certain that Tanya’s support is a big reason I have been able to continue doing this work I care about for this long.

Tanya and I made a date to go out for drinks and a chat one evening. But the schedule was vague, so I called to set the date and she was away at a conference, or out on leave. Then she called me and I couldn’t make any of the evenings she had available. This became a running joke between us, because we continued trying to arrange for that after work drink over two years. At one point we almost succeeded, but Tanya had decided that I really needed to take a vacation. She insisted that before we got together I had to go on vacation then come back and tell her about it over our long-postponed drink. Well, we never got to have that drink.

My point in all of this is that the work we do requires inspiration and commitment, and it requires that we always value and support our friends and co-workers. We need each other to enable us to continue this difficult but rewarding work. Sometimes we may just need to vent, sometimes we need someone to applaud our successes or reassure us when we feel overwhelmed by frustrations. But, we all need someone who will lean over and put a hand on our arm or maybe take us by the lapel and say, “So, buddy, how are you really doing?”

I know many of you can relate similar stories about how Tanya inspired your work and supported you as a colleague and friend. Her vision of collaboration and of our interdependence is manifested here tonight in the agencies she helped establish and the important work you all do. Her spirit is present in all of the people here whose lives she touched. So as you look for something to inspire your life’s work, you needn’t look far, your own Judi Anderson may be working right next to you. Your encouragement can bolster the resolve of a colleague working to end domestic violence, as Tanya encouraged us all to keep up the fight. And Tanya, we’re finally going to have that drink tonight.