Lady Justice

In the Rhode Island Supreme Court, dozens of framed portraits hang in the hall where the Supreme Justices have their offices. These are the past Supreme Justices of Rhode Island. Each of these portraits, save for three, is of a man. This is something that Rhode Island Supreme Justice Maureen McKenna Goldberg wants to change.  

Goldberg was one of the first women to rise to power in the legal world in Rhode Island. Justice Florence K. Murray, appointed in 1981, was the first woman appointed to Supreme Justice of Rhode Island. The next woman was appointed in 1991, and Goldberg was appointed in 1997, when Murray retired. 

Since Goldberg, there hasn’t been a female appointment in fifteen years. “And it’s been four white guys,” she says, laughing. “I would like to see a few more female faces, when I’m done. I’m disappointed in Governor Carcieri’s choices—though he has made fine appointments, but he didn’t choose a woman.” 

Goldberg grew up in East Providence, the second oldest of seven siblings, and attended , where she was honored this year as a Bay View’s Outstanding Alumna of the Year. She values her all-girls education: “I think that experience set the stage for future successes.” 

In the tenth grade, she took a career aptitude test, which unequivocally informed her that she should be a lawyer, and the nuns at Bay View encouraged her. In an all-female environment, she felt that it was obvious there could be and should be women leaders. 

By the time Goldberg attended Providence College in its first class of women, she was confident in her intelligence and singularity. She said she never thought twice about her gender. 

Though she credits her all-girls school education with instilling that women should obviously take leadership positions, she wishes that there had been more team sports. “It took me a while, but I value playing like a team.  It’s a dynamic that was missing. I think I acquired that as a trial lawyer.” 

She makes the comparison easily; there are two sides and more is at stake than just the players—they play for what they represent (the police, the state, the victim).  

Now, Goldberg is moderating the play. “A trial judge is really a referee.  The two teams are well prepared and astute. And you decide what evidence is coming in and what’s going out.”

Goldberg speaking in sports metaphors is a little counterintuitive. She has a sophisticated coif of graying hair, punctuated by large gold earrings. Her suit is pink and black—a Chanel-like combination of tough and stylish. She listens thoughtfully, answers carefully and smiles easily. 

Even with a smile, Goldberg confirms that, “I have a reputation for being a tough lawyer.”

“She does not suffer fools,” says John Tarantino, a lawyer with Adler Pollock & Sheehan in Providence, but at the same time, he says, “she also understands that each case is about two parties, real persons or entities, and that the particular case being argued is the most important case for them.” 

Tarantino has argued several different cases before Goldberg, including commercial disputes, ethical and personal injury cases, as well as cases that raised constitutional issues in question.

The Supreme Court is the court of last resort.  “People’s whose cases come before us are end of their quest for justice,” says Goldberg. “It is important we treat each and every case as if it’s the most important in the system that day. And it is.” This takes an unending energy. 

Working with her, Tarantino was most awed by this dedication. “What impresses me about Justice Goldberg is the fact that she reads everything,” he says. She is knowledgeable about the case that is presented and devoted to each case individually.  

Goldberg and the other four Supreme Justices deliberate each case in a beautiful, wood-paneled room. It is dark with heavy curtains, leather seats, and large windows.  There are three oil paintings of revered male justices on the wall. When they finish deliberating, two of the huge wooden panels slide back and open unto the Supreme courtroom.

The justices walk out and take seats at the large wooden table, in front of the plaintiffs and defendants and the jury. After leaving the hallway of framed portraits of male judges, Goldberg and her colleagues face the national symbol of justice: a woman with a Grecian robe, holding a scale, blindfolded—Lady Justice.