» Victims in the Nassar abuse case find a fierce advocate: the judge,
Aquilina lets more than 150 give public statements against abuser.
LANSING, MICH. — After Bailey Lorencen finished her turn excoriating Larry Nassar, a prominent doctor for USA Gymnastics and other sports who has pleaded guilty to multiple sex crimes, she gazed at the judge presiding over the surging outpouring from young women in the courtroom.
The judge, Rosemarie Aquilina — who allowed more than 150 girls and women, including several prominent Olympic gymnasts, to give public statements against Nassar — leaned forward from the bench. She then smiled and delivered her own heartfelt statement in a manner and tone befitting a therapist.
“The military has not yet come up with fiber as strong as you,” Aquilina told Lorencen on Monday, calling her a “heroine” and a “superhero” and adding: “Mattel ought to make toys so that little girls
can look at you and say, ‘I want to be her.’ Thank you so much for being here, and for your strength.”
Two days later, Aquilina sentenced Nassar, 54, to a prison term of 40 to 175 years.
Belying the stone-faced image of dispassionate jurists, Aquilina emerged as an unusually fierce advocate for victims in a sentencing hearing that drew national attention for the scope of Nassar’s abuse and the role institutions such as USA Gymnastics and Michigan State University played in employing him for decades.
Aquilina’s vow to let every victim speak unexpectedly turned the hearing into a cathartic forum that emboldened dozens of women who had remained silent to come forward with accounts of abuse by Nassar. On Tuesday, Whitney Burns, the 125th speaker, said she had not initially planned to attend but changed her mind because “hearing the voices of my peers has given me the strength to tell my story.”
In response, Aquilina, who has written crime novels and served 20 years in the Mich- igan Army National Guard, has offered encouragement, consolation and tissues.
“Leave your pain here,” Aquilina told one young woman, “and go out and do your magnificent things.”
Stephen Gillers, a law professor at New York University, said although judges are often thought of as unbiased and impartial, it is important to remember this was a sentencing hearing, not a trial. Nassar, who had already received a 60-year federal sentence for a child pornography conviction, pleaded guilty to several state sexual assault charges.
“At a sentencing, a judge can say and is encouraged to say just what she thinks,” Gillers said. “What’s unusual here is that the number of victims who are willing to speak has given the judge more than 100 opportunities to do that.”
Sure enough, Aquilina punctuated every victim statement with some words of her own: a mix of praise, gratitude and support for the women who came forward to address the court and, in many instances, Nassar himself, who was a captive to it all from the witness box.
Aquilina’s unconventional approach did not elicit any discernible criticism, but she did generate attention. Not only did she open the flood- gates to emotional testimony in a very pronounced way, but she seemed determined to lend her voice, shedding any pretense of judicial distance. Several victims — and their parents — thanked Aquilina, including Doug Powell, whose daughter Kassie spoke out last week as one of Nassar’s many accusers.
“Judge Aquilina, I applaud you,” Powell said after his daughter addressed the court. “We applaud you. This room applauds you.”
‘Barracuda Aquilina’
The use of victim impact statements has generated debate in sentencing hearings before juries. Some scholars have questioned the tactic as an obvious emotional ploy meant to sway jurors to impose a tougher term.
But in this case, there was no jury.
And so the judge turned the hearing into a rolling demand for accountability by the people who were supposed to protect the victims.
“The severe nature of the crime was compounded many times over by the failure of adults who knew or should have known that crimes were occurring to take action to protect the victims,” said Janice Nadler, a law professor at Northwestern University who has written about victim impact statements.
She added: “Permitting the victim impact statements of all individuals who Nassar abused is the government’s opportunity to counter Nassar’s message: to demonstrate to the victims that they matter, that their lives matter, that the state stands ready to impose the punishment that Nassar deserves.”
Aquilina has a reputation for blunt talk and wearing cowboy boots under her robes.
A 2014 profile in the Washt- enaw County Legal News said her nickname in the military was “Barracuda Aquilina” and reported her role in several high-profile cases, including a ruling in 2013 that Detroit’s bankruptcy filing violated the state constitution. She sent a copy of her ruling to President Barack Obama. “My message to Obama was: ‘Get ready to cough up some federal money. This is coming,’” she told the paper.
When Nassar sent Aquilina a letter last week complaining about his emotional distress hearing the testimony, she responded with a withering attack.
“Spending four or five days listening to them is significantly minor,” she said, “considering the hours of pleasure you had at their expense and ruining their lives.”
Aquilina repeatedly assured the women she was listening to them and that “the whole world” was listening to them, too.
Lorencen, for example, arrived at Ingham County Circuit Court in Lansing, Mich., on Monday morning fully aware that dozens of other young women had come before her. It was the start of the fifth day of the sentencing hearing, but Lorencen, 22, wanted to be sure her voice was still heard.
“I feel that many of the things I’m going to say are similar to what has already been said by 100 other victims,” Lorencen said as she read from notes. “We know there are well over that many.
But we cannot let that dilute the importance of each of our stories.”
Aquilina had anticipated the hearing would conclude after four days. But over the course of the proceedings, more women who have accused Nassar of abuse came forward wanting to deliver their own statements. Many of them said they felt empowered by what was happening at the court.
Aquilina made it clear from the start she would accommodate them all, welcoming each to her courtroom the same way. “Thank you,” she said. “What would you like me to know?”