\nPhotos By Kathryn Elsesser<\/em><\/p>\n
When she was a child, Fay Stetz-Waters IDP\u201901 was often blamed for her twin sister\u2019s antics\u2014like the time her sister broke Stetz-Waters\u2019s sunglasses by sitting on them. \u201cBefore I could say a word, she tattled to my mom, saying, \u2018Look what sissy did!\u2019 \u201d When Stetz-Waters professed her innocence, her mother ignored her. \u201cMy mom was pretty strict, and if she couldn\u2019t identify who did it, it was usually me, the outspoken one, who got in trouble,\u201d she says. \u201cI spent a lot of time in punishment, alone in my room, thinking about fairness.\u201d<\/p>\n These childhood experiences laid the foundation for Stetz-Waters\u2019s sense of justice and foreshadowed her career as a lawyer and judge. Now, as director of civil rights for Oregon\u2019s Department of Justice, she works on issues that impact the state\u2019s most vulnerable citizens.<\/p>\n Her responsibilities include advising state agencies and defending state actions that involve the people\u2019s rights, such as access to clean water and health care and the ability to earn money. \u201cIf there is an equity piece missing from any legislation, I\u2019ll work with the [state\u2019s] attorney general to get that added in if I can,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n Outreach is important to Stetz-Waters, and she creates opportunities for people in her state to speak up and be heard. Last summer, she facilitated Oregon\u2019s Community Conversations, a series of roundtable discussions that give people affected by inequity opportunities to share their experiences of hate and discrimination. The program has led to substantive governmental changes, including increased culturally specific resources for crime victims. She also manages a Bias Response Hotline for Oregonians to report bias incidents and crimes, the first in the country to focus on the needs of the people, she says.<\/p>\n Stetz-Waters also advocates for change on a national level and coordinated Oregon\u2019s response to a multistate lawsuit that challenges changes to the U.S. Department of Labor\u2019s joint-employer rule. The rule, part of the Fair Labor Standards Act, defines who or what is considered an employer. Until January 2020, the rule stated that an employer must be held accountable to its workers for minimum wage, overtime, and child labor protection, whether the workers are engaged directly by the corporation or through an intermediary. But last year, the Labor Department made changes to the law that would leave workers vulnerable. In September 2020, 18 states, including Oregon, sued to stop implementation of the rule.<\/p>\n Though she has achieved a high-level of success, Stetz-Waters\u2019s journey was not easy. She grew up in Baltimore in the 1980s, amid rampant violence. Her mother suffered from an undiagnosed mental illness, and her father died during her senior year of high school.<\/p>\n With her mother \u201cchecked out\u201d and her father sick, she enrolled herself in Western High School, one of the country\u2019s oldest public all-girls\u2019 secondary schools. \u201cIt was a place where academics were taken seriously, where I could see what a college trajectory looked like,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n After graduation, with no money for college, she joined the Marine Corps and pursued her education at her own pace. \u201cI have never bought into the idea of late starts. People are on their own trajectory,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n Though Stetz-Waters enjoyed working as a field radio operator in the Marines, her outspokenness meant she often was \u201cmoved around.\u201d She notes, \u201cWomen who complained of sexual harassment were reassigned, and investigations of sexual harassment were minimal. People like me, who spoke out about racism and sexism, were [also] reassigned.\u201d<\/p>\n After four years, she decided not to reenlist. \u201cThis was before \u2018don\u2019t ask, don\u2019t tell,\u2019 and I was in a relationship with a woman,\u201d she says. When her partner moved to Connecticut, Stetz-Waters went, too, and began working as a 911 dispatcher for the Manchester Police Department.<\/p>\n She also studied at Manchester Community College. \u201cI was enjoying education as an exercise, taking a bunch of classes,\u201d she says. Her intellectual curiosity and high GPA caught the attention of an administrator, who suggested she try for a scholarship to a four-year school.<\/p>\n Stetz-Waters says she chose Trinity because of its excellent reputation. And as a self-supporting student in the Individualized Degree Program, the college\u2019s location near her employer was a plus. She worked nights at the police department and took a full course load during the day, majoring in history. \u201cI would finish my shift, drive to Trinity, and sleep in my car for an hour before classes started. Then I would go home, sleep for a couple of hours, and go to work.\u201d She did this for two years before graduating with honors.<\/p>\n One of her favorite courses was \u201cProtest in Music,\u201d taught by Professor of Music Gail Woldu. \u201cIt\u2019s where I first heard Debussy and Ravel, and it gave me an appreciation for rap and hip hop that I didn\u2019t have,\u201d says Stetz-Waters.<\/p>\n Though they\u2019ve had no contact in 20 years, Woldu remembers Stetz-Waters for her keen insight during a class discussion. After listening to a recording of Ma Rainey\u2019s \u201cProve It on Me Blues\u201d\u2014with the refrain, \u201cWent out last night with a crowd of my friends. They must have been women, \u2019cause I don\u2019t like no men\u201d\u2014Stetz-Waters made an observation that even Woldu hadn\u2019t considered.<\/p>\n \u201cWe had been arguing about the boldness of such a line and the boldness of a record company \u2026 to market a song about lesbianism,\u201d says Woldu. Stetz-Waters suggested that the record company was bold because they knew<\/em> it had an audience of lesbian listeners who understood. \u201cShe helped us see a potential market for music outside the mainstream,\u201d says Woldu. \u201cI use her comment every time I teach that piece.\u201d<\/p>\n After Trinity, Stetz-Waters earned a J.D. in 2005 from Lewis & Clark Law School in Portland, where she wrote about marriage equality, transgender rights, and crime victims\u2019 rights. Her first job out of law school was for Legal Aid of Oregon, where she provided representation for underserved residents of Linn and Benton Counties. \u201cShe has a heart for the most vulnerable people,\u201d says Mitzi Naucler, who was her supervisor at Legal Aid. The two remain close, and Naucler has enjoyed watching the growth of her friend\u2019s career.<\/p>\n Over the years, Stetz-Waters has served as an administrative law judge for the Oregon Employment Department, a hearings officer for the state\u2019s Board of Parole, and a circuit court judge in Linn County. She began working at the Oregon Department of Justice in 2019, and Naucler says it is a position for which Stetz-Waters is particularly suited. \u201cShe\u2019s not a pushover, but she isn\u2019t unpleasant to anyone,\u201d says Naucler. She says she feels that Stetz-Waters\u2019s civility in the face of conflict is particularly necessary right now, with the country so divided.<\/p>\n Stetz-Waters\u2019s wife of 22 years, writer Karelia Stetz-Waters, agrees. \u201cThough she is very passionate about civil rights, she is very rational when others get polarized. She always sees both sides and strives for the middle ground,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n Stetz-Waters\u2019s work in law enforcement has informed her position on one particularly polarizing issue: police reform. As a 911 dispatcher, she saw what police officers experience. \u201cThere are mental-health risks that occur [when officers] repeatedly respond to people in crisis, take lives, and see death. It can make you see the worst in people, rob you of your compassion, and leave you viewing people as threats instead of humans,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n Instead of defunding police, she advocates for rewarding officers who establish a rapport with those in their community and providing anti-bias and equity training to all, not just a select few.<\/p>\n \u201cHer integrity, her ethical compass, and her passion for justice paired with her incredible work ethic really is changing our state for the better,\u201d says Karelia Stetz-Waters. \u201cI hope more people follow in her footsteps.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Fay Stetz-Waters IDP\u201901 works to ensure Oregonians\u2019 civil rights By Mary Howard Photos By Kathryn Elsesser When she was a child, Fay Stetz-Waters IDP\u201901 was often blamed for her twin sister\u2019s antics\u2014like the time her sister broke Stetz-Waters\u2019s sunglasses by sitting on them. \u201cBefore I could say a word, she tattled to my mom, saying, … <\/p>\n![\"Fay](\"https:\/\/commons.trincoll.edu\/reporter-spring2021\/files\/2021\/06\/Fay_Stetz_Waters-6998.jpg\")
![\"Fay](\"https:\/\/commons.trincoll.edu\/reporter-spring2021\/files\/2021\/06\/Fay_Stetz_Waters-6990.jpg\")
Along the way, she says, she benefited from Trinity\u2019s talented and encouraging faculty. She credits her adviser, Barbara Sicherman, William R. Kenan Jr. Professor of American Institutions and Values, Emerita, with teaching her how to dig deeper in her research and analysis of materials. During her senior year, she served as a teaching assistant for former history faculty member Jeff Roche\u2019s class on the 1960s, which strengthened her interest in civil rights. <\/p>\n