Sotomayor’s childhood empathy informs her wisdom on the bench
Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor once had to look up the meaning of “summa cum laude” when she was told that she’d earned the distinction at Princeton University.
Understand, she was from a neighborhood where such lofty achievements weren’t discussed, much less held up as a goal for little girls like her.
She was a Puerto
Rican child of the Bronx. She had an emotionally neglectful mother who was a nurse, a father who died young, a beloved and protective grandmother she adored, and an influential aunt who toiled away in a sewing factory hidden behind windows painted black to shield the conditions inside.
Sotomayor detailed all of this in her 2013 memoir, “My Beloved World.” And all of it influenced the justice she is today.
In recent oral arguments, Sotomayor pressed back on behalf of the 43 million people who would benefit from the Biden administration’s plan to erase $10,000 in student debt, or up to $20,000 for Pell Grant holders, which the court will rule on this summer. She went straight to the human side, describing the life-changing financial reprieve that could put so many Americans on a much better financial footing.
Discussing who will be affected if the loans are forgiven, she said: “Many of them don’t have assets sufficient to bail them out after the pandemic. They don’t have friends or families or others who can help them make these payments. The evidence is clear that many of them will have to default.”
Sotomayor knows from her childhood that it’s not just the bill you can’t pay today, but what happens cumulatively. When society has a class of debtors, this becomes a huge lesion on the economic bounties of capitalism.
“Their financial situation will be even worse because once you default, the hardship on you is exponentially greater. You can’t get credit. You’re going to pay higher prices for things. They are going to continue to suffer from this pandemic in a way that the general population doesn’t.”
There are several cases pending before the court. One was brought by six states that needed to prove first that they would be harmed if the debt cancellation goes through. At least one state, Missouri, is home to a profitable student loan servicer.
Also, most crucially, is the question of whether the Biden administration had overrun the intention of Congress when legislators passed the law upon which the forgiveness would be based: The Higher Education Relief Opportunities for Students Act of 2003.
At one point in the arguments, Sotomayor threw down a gauntlet of sorts. “Illogical” was the term she used when addressing an attorney arguing on behalf of a woman whose $17,000 in student loan debt wouldn’t be forgiven under Biden’s plan. Commercial entities, not the federal government, service that debt.
That lawsuit argues that procedures in setting up the plan didn’t include a notice and comment period, which isn’t required under the HEROES Act and wouldn’t necessarily mean that the woman’s circumstances would be covered under Biden’s relief plan.
“This is so totally illogical to me,” Sotomayor said. “That you come into court to say, ‘I want more, I’m going to file a suit to get more, but I know I’m going to get nothing.’”
In her book, Sotomayor wrote of how she developed a high emotional intelligence that was, in part, a defense mechanism. “I was a watchful child constantly scanning the adults for cues and listening in on their conversations. My sense of security depended on what information I could glean, any clue dropped inadvertently . ... ”
In another section, she writes of how she first gained some valuable skills: listening and thinking as people were misunderstood and conversations imploded. “I was 15 years old when I understood how it is that things break down: People can’t imagine someone else’s point of view.”
Well, Sotomayor just exhibited how that sense of understanding and compassion could help resolve one of the biggest problems that could plague our society for many years: the deep financial indebtedness of so many.