Meet Judge Geoffrey A. Gaither, one of Indiana’s brightest luminaries in fighting systemic racism. His story is one of perseverance and is a testament to the power of community. He didn’t end up in the career he originally sought, yet he seems to have landed exactly where he was meant to be.
“I start where I am. I use what I have and I do what I can,” he says. “We’re all children of survivors. So because we survived capture, we survived … the Middle Passage, the years of slavery and segregation, and … Jim Crow and modern civil rights, I don’t have the option of just going home and sitting down.”
He continues, “We have a moral obligation to honor the ideas of our ancestors who toiled in intolerable conditions. And so I just don’t feel like I can say I’m tired because what I have to face is nothing compared to what my great- great- grandparents faced.”
From Architecture to Urban Planning
Gaither’s first dream to become an architect fell apart when at the University of Cincinnati, he didn’t get accepted into their College of Design, Architecture, Art and Planning. So he changed course to study urban planning where he was inspired by the instructor of his planning and zoning class who was a charismatic local attorney.
“I became fascinated with law and application and what it meant to the urban environment and how it could benefit my community,” he says. “So I applied to law school” where he hoped to become a commercial real estate attorney.
Early in his life, Judge Gaither grew up near the old Juvenile Court building. Everyday, he would walk past the Detention Center. The playground for his school, IPS #37, was separated from the Detention Center by a patch of grass and a tall fence. Often when out for recess, he would see the older brothers and cousins of his childhood friends who were detained in the Center. They would make playful threats of violence if he would not bring tools to help them escape. He did not.
The Road Leads to Law
Even though he was turned down by law school after law school, he didn’t give up. Through a friend’s aunt, he asked for a recommendation from Indiana Senator Richard Lugar for one of the schools on his list, Howard University School of Law. Later when he saw his student personnel file, someone had handwritten that he had shown gumption to ask a senator to write a letter on his behalf.
“I got in and everything clicked. I was all As and Bs. I was on the honor roll. I was one of the editors on the law journal and I got a published article and interviewed with a lot of silk stocking firms,” he says.
He passed the Indiana bar and even though he passed the Pennsylvania bar, his score wasn’t high enough to be able to practice in Washington, D.C. So he returned home to Indianapolis and initially worked in the prosecutor’s office. Then when he was a public defender and had a private practice, he heard about an opening as a magistrate in juvenile court.
“My career goal was to combine my degree of urban planning and design and be a commercial real estate developer. That was the goal,” he says. “Here I was being offered an opportunity to be a magistrate.” The only reason he took it? “My wife, fortunately I married well, smart woman, she encouraged me … So in 1995, I accepted the position that Judge Payne offered to be a magistrate in juvenile court.”
Feeling the Weight of the Juvenile Justice System
Being a judge in juvenile court was challenging in the beginning. “It exposed me to a life that I had never seen. Seeing case after case after case after case of our children and our families who look like me was very impactful,” he says. “I felt powerless to do something … the systems … seemed to be aligned against families of color and particularly those that were at or below the poverty line. I really began to feel the weight of the system.”
He continues, “Here I was now a gatekeeper and looking around for ways to have an impact, trying to interrupt the trajectory of some of these families. And trying to stop the revolving door of children in and out the child welfare system and the youth justice system … Something just needed to happen. I didn’t know what.”
So he began to look for ways to involve himself in the community. “I would start showing up at things. When kids were on my docket and they had an event, I would show up. And then one thing led to another, I began to get invited. Next thing you know, I’m asked to speak,” he says.
Things Begin to Change
In 2010, Judge Marilyn Moores convened a Courts Catalyzing Change committee, a multidisciplinary committee looking at implicit bias and ways to eliminate it in the child welfare and youth justice system.
On the day of the meeting, Judge Gaither was asked to chair the committee. “This was huge. That event changed everything. That was the watershed moment,” he says.
The committee discussed bringing to Indianapolis a presentation about fighting racism by the People’s Institute for Survival and Beyond. “It was in April 2010, and they came and I was completely blown away … Because at that time, I considered myself to be an expert on being a black man!” Gaither says. “But at the conclusion of this two-day workshop I was overwhelmed about what I did not know. And my view of my walk in this journey was completely turned upside down.”
The Courts Catalyzing Change committee worked with Child Advocates to roll out the training to child welfare workers, community organizations and the whole community. Workshops continue today.
Individualized Justice
Judge Gaither says the courts have changed. “I think we have a much more enlightened approach to child welfare and youth justice. Every kid doesn’t need to go through the system.”
Now he views his role in the courtroom as more parental. “A parent’s job is to set the limits, and the child’s job is to test the limits. And then when they cross the line, then your job is to provide consequences,” he says. And those consequences should be unique to each child. He has three sons himself and says he’s learned that what works for one, doesn’t work for another. He applies this same principle when working with youth in his courtroom.
Dismantling Systemic Racism
After the Undoing Racism workshops, Judge Gaither became even more involved. “The more you see, the more you know, the more you do,” he says. So he put together a Young Women’s Empowerment Conference in 2014 and a Young Men’s Empowerment Conference in 2016. “We’ve been doing them consistently every year since,” he says. “We’ve had just some incredible feedback and some incredible moments.”
Judge Gaither’s current project is creating a high school law curriculum for Charles A. Tindley charter school where one of his sons attended. “I thought that we needed to do something to infuse our community with more lawyers and judges of color,” he says. “In addition to the core 40, they will offer other electives that are constitutional law, criminal law and things of that nature. We’ve created a moot court team and I’ve convinced a number of attorneys to volunteer to be coaches.” He also was able to secure courtroom furniture and fixtures to build a courtroom inside the school.
A Fight for the Future
The battle against racism is not over. “It’s two steps forward, one step back. Yes, we’ve seen movement, but now we are seeing pushback. And so now is the time to really be firm because we are in a war and we are in a fight for our future.”
He cites the George Floyd moment and the drive for social inclusion and diversity and equity is leading to pushback. “Just every aspect of where people of color have made gains, they’re trying to take it away,” he says. It’s similar to what happened in South Africa at the end of apartheid when the social conservatives were doing everything they could to hold on to power. In his view, the pushback validates the efforts.
The struggle is generational. “I can’t affect anything in 2023, but maybe 2033. And so, if enough people begin to do something, then we can have change for my children or maybe my grandchildren. My job was to put my shoulder against a stone and move it as far as I can and then hand it off to my sons.”
He adds, “I know it will happen because that day will come.” For himself and today, “I have a moral obligation to do something. I don’t care what it is, but every day I got to do something. And so that’s what keeps me going.”