,
it's "where eye-catching cases are likely to be tried: e.g., murder,
rape, conspiracy, jousts between business interests, trademark
disputes, product liability, medical malpractice, and labor controversies."
Seventy-six Superior Court justices are divided
among the state's fourteen counties. Suffolk Superior Court, for
instance-where Botsford sits-has Boston as its jurisdiction, along
with Winthrop, Chelsea, and Revere.
It's a high-profile job, and colleagues say Botsford devotes boundless attention to every detail, even the court committees. "If there's a meeting, she'll go to it," says fellow associate justice Catherine White, L'72.
"And she's always thinking she's not doing enough," adds Nonnie Burnes, L'78,
who, along with Botsford, Ball, and White, rounds out a quartet
of busy women who serve as both Superior Court associate justices
and Northeastern trustees.
White notes that Botsford remembers prodigious
amounts of detail, easily recalling cases relevant to particular
issues, even their citations-a valuable skill for a judge. "She just has an incredible brain," White
says.
In addition to Botsford's impressive work ethic-Burnes says there are "legendary stories about Margot working into the wee hours of the night on opinions"-she
gets uniform praise for being a great friend.
"If you have a concern or problem," White says, "she's the first person to ask if everything's
okay."
Despite her friend's accomplishments and reputation, Ball says that Botsford is "ridiculously self-effacing. If I were her, I'd have the biggest head of anyone. But she doesn't."
True to form, in talking about her career, Botsford
seems anything but wowed by her achievements. On the contrary,
she's remarkably, and refreshingly, unassuming. She says that being a judge is great work, intellectually stimulating, and she's
lucky to have such an amazing job.
And she freely admits that the
first time she put on her judicial robes and approached the bench,
she was petrified.
Behind the big calls
"I didn't know what I was doing," she says. "It was like Goldilocks and the Three Bears. There were three chairs on the bench, because the week before there'd been a medical malpractice tribunal with seating for a judge, a doctor, and a lawyer. The first chair was a little chair, so that's
where I sat."
Fast-forward sixteen years, and the picture changes.
The fifty-seven-year-old judge doesn't get nervous anymore when
she walks to the bench. Now her nerves kick in at different times,
like when a jury is about to announce its verdict, because she
knows how much the decision matters to both sides.
One thing is
for sure: She likes making the big rulings. Not that she doesn't
spend her share of sleepless nights worrying about whether she's
made the right ones. But, in her view, the fretting is an easy
price to pay, because the job is so close to perfect.
"There are
people-a lot of lawyers-who really enjoy advocating on behalf of
a person, or a cause, or a case, and trying to persuade the decision
maker," she says. "It's not that I don't enjoy that. It's
just that I would rather be the decision maker."
For Botsford, the joy comes in thoroughly examining
a legal problem, turning it over and over in her mind like a gem
until she can see all the facets. "Trying to solve whatever problem a case has is a very challenging and rewarding experience," she
explains.Former colleague Maria Krokidas (who formed a law firm with Botsford
and Stephen Rosenfeld-then Botsford's colleague, now her husband-in 1979) says Botsford "truly enjoys the mind puzzle of being a judge. And because she's
so good, she gets great cases. And she always rises to the occasion."
Indeed, Botsford comes across as particularly
well-suited to solving thorny problems. She's smart, straightforward,
and reasonable. And clearly fascinated with the nitty-gritty of
her work.
Take, for example, the nearly two years she spent
wrestling with how to fairly fund Massachusetts public schools.
In June 2002, then Superior Court chief justice Suzanne DelVecchio,
who knew Botsford had just finished an education-focused sabbatical,
asked her to get involved with a major education case, Hancock
v. Driscoll. Some of the state's poorer school districts had filed
a complaint alleging that state funding formulas prevented them
from providing an adequate education for the children in their
communities.
Botsford's charge: Produce a fact-finding report and recommendations on the matter for the Supreme Judicial Court (SJC), the state's
highest court.
First she spent several months in preparatory
hearings and conferences. Then she conducted seventy-eight days
of trial,
listening to 114 witnesses and poring over more than a thousand
documents.
By last April, Botsford had completed a 350-page
report on the case. Burnes suspects it may be the longest opinion
ever
issued by the Superior Court.
It made several recommendations
to the SJC: That, given current education mandates, Massachusetts
should reexamine its formula for funding public schools. That
local school management and leadership should be improved. And
that the
state should provide high-quality preschool programs for more
children as well as more funding for special education.
"In every one of these [poorer] districts," Botsford wrote in her executive summary, "the
students are not receiving the level of education that the Commonwealth
has a constitutional duty to provide."
Many observers expected the
SJC to rule in favor of the Hancock plaintiffs, a decision that
could have cost the state hundreds of millions of dollars. Instead,
in a 5-2 ruling issued in mid-February, the high court dismissed
the case.
The SJC justices didn't disagree with Botsford's findings-indeed, Chief Justice Margaret Marshall's majority opinion stated that "no one . . . disputes that serious inadequacies in public education remain." However,
the high court determined that the legislature and the executive
branch were making steady progress in improving public education,
and should continue to do so without undue interference from the
courts.
School funding woes
Fair-education
advocates were clearly disappointed by the SJC's decision. The mood was different last year when Botsford first issued her report. Joseph Bage, superintendent for the public school system in Brockton, one of the plaintiff districts in the case, had proclaimed himself "elated."
Norma Shapiro, president of the Council for Fair
School Finance and an American Civil Liberties Union of Massachusetts
lobbyist, had praised Botsford's "powerful description of the ways
in which children in poorer school districts, especially those
with learning disabilities [or] limited English proficiency, racial
and ethnic minorities, and those from low-income circumstances,
are stymied by inadequate programs and insufficient funds."
But state officials had been less pleased by Botsford's
conclusions. They suggested that local school leadership, perhaps
more than state funding, plays a significant role in education
successes and failures. And they indicated their reluctance to
impose new taxes on what they saw as an already overtaxed electorate.
Massachusetts
governor Mitt Romney has long believed additional dollars aren't
the only answer. "Just . . . sending more money to the same people
to do the same things is not going to solve our problems," he
said last month after the SJC ruling was announced.
Public school
funding is a tricky issue in the Commonwealth, Botsford says. Funding
schemes are largely dependent on property taxes, so poorer districts
have tended to suffer. Sometimes they complain-as they did in Hancock
v. Driscoll-that the state isn't
doing enough to level the playing field.
The issue first wound up
in the courts in the late 1970s. By 1993, a landmark suit had been
filed on behalf of
children from sixteen different school districts, declaring they
were receiving an inadequate education. In response, the SJC ruled
that the state constitution requires the Commonwealth to provide
an adequate education for all children in its public schools-and
that it was failing to do so.
Three days after the SJC's decision, the state legislature-having "seen the handwriting on the wall," says Botsford-passed
the Education Reform Act, which restructured the formula by which
state funds were doled out to local districts.
"It very much changed the way school funding was distributed," Botsford says. "Prenineteen
ninety-three, the state was playing an increasing role in [seeing
that funds were distributed fairly], but it was ad hoc and not
very well done."
The plaintiffs in the 1993 case agreed to wait
and see whether things improved. Meanwhile, the state spent billions
more on public education and instituted MCAS (short for Massachusetts
Comprehensive Assessment System) testing to hold the schools
accountable for student achievement.
Six years later, in 1999, the
same school districts, as well as some new ones, were back in
court. The situation had improved, they said. But not enough.
For
three years, the SJC prodded the disputing parties to reach an
agreement. Finally, the high court referred the case to the Superior
Court for the finding of facts and evidence, as well as recommendations
on how to remedy the situation. Botsford was chosen to oversee
the mammoth task.
By then, nineteen communities had signed on
as plaintiffs. To streamline the work, Botsford suggested the
plaintiffs pick a handful of communities to represent all the others.
Brockton,
Lowell, Springfield, and Winchendon were chosen.
"The trial was largely factual evidence about these four communities," says Botsford. "And an equal or greater amount of the trial was expert testimony on a whole variety of issues. There was also a lot of evidence from the defendants-from officials from the state Department of Education-whose
job it is to evaluate the schools."
Addressing the complexities
In weighing how to provide a solid public education to all children, Botsford was struck by the daunting, complicated nature of the effort, both in Massachusetts and across the nation.
"There are many reasons, frankly, to be discouraged about it," she said several weeks before the SJC decision was announced. "This litigation is going on all over the country. But it's
a very sobering record, with not a lot of successes."
She explains: "In many instances, courts have declared that the state constitution requires the state to play an affirmative role in providing and funding local education. Then the court tells the legislature to come up with the money to do that. Then the legislature balks. And ultimately, in a number of states, the court has basically said, ‘This is too much of a political question, and we can't go any further.' And they dismiss the case. It's
very depressing."
Asked if she thinks the courts should be more
forceful in this arena, Botsford sighs. "Well, I don't know," she says. "It's
very hard."
She perks up, however, when describing the complexities
of the issue.
"You've got two problems," she says. "You've got the problem of the relationship between the court and the legislature-the separation of powers problem. Then you've got the other problem, traditional in this country, that public education is fundamentally a local enterprise. So you have the court sort of forcing the state to do something. But in the end, although the localities want more money, I think it's fair to say there's also a certain amount of resistance to state mandates about how that money is going to be used. And that's
not even talking about the federal requirements.
"Quite apart from the politics and the funding," she goes on, "is that there are so many variables in play. You've got funding issues, no question. But you've also got teacher-quality issues, parent issues, children's
background issues, and management issues. The schools can only
do so much."
It's no wonder Botsford can outline the intricacies so neatly, given how much time she's
spent trying to understand them. After listening to hours of testimony
and reading thousands of pages of documents, Botsford spent the
first two months of 2004 working solely on the report. She admits
she was nervous about getting it done, having never written anything
that long before.
In March, feeling guilty about not attending to
her other work, she returned to her normal court routine. With
the help of her law clerk, who summarized much of the court testimony,
and by working nights and weekends for many months, she finished
the report by April.
Last August, more than forty-five statewide
groups and forty-seven state legislators filed "friend of the court" briefs on behalf of the student plaintiffs as the case headed back to the SJC. At the time, Michael Weisman, the lead plaintiffs' attorney, cited Botsford's "careful
and extensive findings and recommendations."
Even after the SJC's dismissal of the Hancock case, Weisman sounded an upbeat note with his remarks to the press: "The only thing the legislature ought to take away from [the] decision," he said, "is
that the court is going to give them some time to get the job done."
"A
terrible teacher"
It's apropos Botsford became so knowledgeable about the dilemmas of providing a good public-school education. At one point in her life, she'd
thought about becoming a teacher herself.
The 1969 Barnard College
graduate spent six weeks at Harvard's School of Education right after college. But doing practice teaching in a summer school program for Newton kids convinced her she was "a terrible teacher," she
says, and she dropped out.
That winter, Botsford took a number of
law-related volunteer jobs to see if she liked legal work-and she
did. Accepted by several Boston-area law schools, including Harvard,
Botsford
decided to enroll at Northeastern, lured by its small size and
the co-op program.
"Co-op was very helpful," she says. "At one point, I thought I was interested in legal services. But after one co-op quarter doing that, I realized it wasn't
for me."
Finally, on co-op as a law clerk for SJC judge
Francis Quirico, L'32, Botsford found her niche. "I loved it," she says of her introduction to life on the bench. "The
legal issues were interesting, and the idea of being in a position
to decide these legal issues, for me, was very heady. And my judge
was terrific."
Botsford spent the next decade and a half in jobs
she felt would help her earn her robes. She was an associate at
the law firm Hill & Barlow; an assistant attorney general for Massachusetts (including a stint as chief of the opinions division); a partner at Rosenfeld, Botsford & Krokidas;
an assistant district attorney for Middlesex County, serving as
chief of the appeals and training bureau; a consultant to the Office
of the State Attorney for the Eleventh Judicial Circuit, in Miami;
and, once again, an assistant district attorney for Middlesex County,
this time as chief of the family and community crimes bureau.
In
1988, she finally applied to become a judge in Massachusetts.
The judicial nominating committee recommended her as a top candidate
for a post on the Superior Court. And she got the job.
Her interest
in education, which has never flagged, still finds expression in
many areas of her life. As a Northeastern
trustee, she has spent the past two years on what Jantzen calls
the "thankless but very important work" of chairing the trustees' special
committee on graduate education.
"Trying to get your arms around graduate education's policies, programs, and structures is like trying to hug an amoeba," Jantzen says. "But
Judge Botsford is very thoughtful about all this and takes it very seriously.
She works very hard to get at the underlying issues, and has really helped
focus the administration on the important issues regarding the role of graduate
education in the university."
Botsford delved just as deeply during the sabbatical
she spent in the Boston public schools. Working with Citizen Schools,
a nonprofit organization that promotes after-school activities,
she helped expand its services, which originally targeted fourth-
to seventh-graders, to include eighth-graders as well. The goal
was "a more intensive, longer program that would help them make a better transition to high school and, hopefully, college," she
says.
She even helped recruit local lawyers to serve
as volunteer writing coaches for the kids. "We originally got six or seven firms for that first year, and the program has grown every year since then," she
says.
Botsford also took it upon herself to visit roughly
twenty Boston high schools.
"It was fascinating to see the schools, and meet the headmasters and staff," she says. "I
got the sense there were a lot of really dedicated headmasters
with energy and commitment, and they really had a struggle on their
hands. I also got a sense of the quite profound differences among
the various high schools."
In addition, Botsford volunteered at
Brookline High School, helping with a program aimed at boosting
achievement among African-American students.
Cleared for takeoff
In the months before Botsford issued her report
on school funding, another hot-button issue got her name in the
news. In November 2003, she modified a longstanding injunction
against adding a fifth runway to Logan International Airport, thereby
clearing the way for construction.
It was a controversial decision.
Residents living near the airport had fought a bitter fight to
prevent the Massachusetts Port Authority from building the new
runway, contending they were already dealing with overwhelming
levels of noise and pollution.
The existing injunction dated back
to 1974, when Massport had begun construction on a new runway
without conducting a required environmental impact report. Although
the
port authority contended it should have been exempt from having
to produce such a report, a judge ordered the injunction be imposed.
By
the early 1990s, hoping to offset existing and projected flight
delays at Logan, Massport revived the idea of a fifth runway.
Working with the federal and state governments, the port authority
completed
the necessary environmental reports, and also agreed to use the
new runway only for turboprop planes and small jets, and only
in certain wind conditions that prevented the use of other runways.
Botsford
ruled that, given such limits, as well as the projected increase
in airport traffic, it was time to modify
the 1974 injunction. The decision didn't please runway opponents. A representative of Communities Against Runway Expansion said of Massport, "They
are just trying to jam more concrete into East Boston."
Still, opponents recognized that Botsford's decision-which modified the injunction but kept it in place-would keep the court involved in Massport's
plans. It also required Massport to use incentives to shift more
air traffic to off-peak hours; encourage greater use of regional
airports; and provide soundproofing to homes, schools, and other
institutions near the airport.
Botsford knows her decision displeased
the towns that abut Logan. And yet, she says, the decision to
build the airport so close to residences was made, for better or
worse,
a long time ago. At this point, compromises must be made.
"For air travelers, the location of Logan Airport is fabulous," she says. "But for those who live around it, it's horrible. My decision says that at the end-although I know it's
cold comfort for nearby residents."
For the public good
Every judge,
says Botsford, has a fear of making decisions that lead to adverse
consequences. She hasn't been exempt.
In the mid-1990s, she was
one of several judges who impounded records related to priests
accused of molesting children.
The impoundments came to light in a 2002 Boston Globe article reported
by the paper's Spotlight Team.
At the time, Botsford says, impounding records
wasn't an uncommon practice, as long as attorneys on both sides of a case agreed to it. "If the archdiocese had insisted the records be impounded and the plaintiffs disagreed, I don't think I would have done it," she says now. "But it was a joint motion. The alleged victim didn't
want to have this event in the public record."
She adds, "We're all in a different place now, though. The magnitude of the [clergy sexual abuse] issue changed a lot of people's views about impoundment. Today, I wouldn't
do it."
Does she dwell on the fact that her decision added
to the secrecy that helped obscure the scandal? "I was sorry," she says. "Maybe I should have been a whole lot smarter and more prescient. But I don't
go back and relive it."
Botsford says that judges also worry about cases
involving dangerous prisoners who, after serving their terms, have
a right to be freed. "Sometimes people get released and go out and murder or rape again, and you think, If only I had decided differently," she says. "It's a terrible feeling. But I don't know what you can do to avoid it. You can't
always take the safe course."
Her dual sense of what's reasonable and what's
right makes Botsford an excellent judge, colleagues say.
"She has always impressed me as being somebody who has an extremely careful, thoughtful approach, while at the same time being very sensitive to the human aspects," says former partner Krokidas. "She
brings the profession to a new level."
Krokidas also lauds Botsford's commitment to public service. "She clearly could have been out in the private sector, doing any number of different things," she says. "But, from the beginning, Margot has chosen a life that's going to keep her very much in the center of very important public issues. That's
who she is."
Although people may assume judges have a cushy
life, Krokidas adds, "being a judge in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts requires many huge sacrifices, the first of which is financial. And I don't think they get a whole lot of support from law clerks or support staff. It's
a lonely and very demanding profession. The judges work very, very
hard."
Clearly, Botsford has impressed others with her
intellectual prowess, diligence, modesty, and devotion to the public
good. From her point
of view, though, she's just trying to do the best job she can. And-even after sixteen years-her
eyes brighten when she talks about being a judge.
"It's different all the time, and intellectually challenging," she says. "My
colleagues are quite terrific. I love the court staff."
Her final ruling? "I couldn't," she says, "imagine
a better job."
Karen Feldscher is a senior writer.