Between two waters: Fighting for justice in a biased system

By Joyce Shui, Esq.
NORTHWEST ASIAN WEEKLY

“The best revenge is a sweet life.”

This phrase echoed in my head as I rode a comfortably air-conditioned bus on a hot day to Portland, reading Entre Dos Aguas by Christina Henriquez and basking in sunlight pouring through huge windows. I was looking forward to the city’s Grand Floral Parade—a brief escape from the turmoil of (Friday, June 6), and a hopeful reminder that a sweeter life is possible.

It was the hardest day of my career. I felt like a paper doll tossed in a violent storm—ripped apart, battered by raging rapids, lost in a stormy sea, with no peace in sight.

I have worked grueling 90-hour weeks, clerked for the Washington State Supreme Court, and led diverse teams in Legal, IT, HR, and Marketing. I’ve thrived helping companies navigate complex corporate law and proudly advocated for the underrepresented throughout my life—from supporting the end of apartheid in college to securing justice for immigrant families as a pro bono attorney.

Last Friday broke new ground in difficulty.

I represent a BIPOC immigrant woman. She and her uncle are homeowners who bought their dream house with a water view, imagining it as a peaceful place to retire. Instead, they have now lost it. Despite years of chronic abuse, racist harassment, and repeated violations of protection orders—meticulously documented with recordings and evidence—the judge ruled against our client, issuing a protection order against the true victim.

Some progress has been made. The Seattle Police Department terminated the officer who hurled racist slurs, and the woman who harassed my client was removed from the homeowners association. Yet these seemingly small victories were twisted by the aggressor and her husband, who leveraged their removal into a narrative portraying themselves as the victims—claiming to be targeted and in anguish because of my client. This manipulation has fueled further harassment and obstruction, turning justice on its head.

This ruling has shattered their lives. Our client had to flee immediately, leaving behind her 89-year-old blind uncle, who depends on her for daily care. The house that once symbolized safety and hope, almost immediately after they moved in, became a battleground because of my client’s attempted advocacy for her uncle—requesting that the neighbor leash and accompany their dog and setting up a baby gate to protect their immediate front area. The racist couple responded by kicking down the baby gate and threatening my client with, “My husband is a police officer.” After years of slow progress toward a better situation, now my client and her uncle are living the heartbreaking reality of having effectively lost their home and future.

Despite everything, my client continues to give. She is a strong, resilient woman—intelligent, generous, and determined. Even amid deep depression, anxiety, and despondency, she has never stopped caring for others. Her smile, somehow, still lights up the room. She shows up for her community, her family, and even for people she barely knows—offering warmth, humor, and the kind of quiet courage that holds others together while her own world is unraveling.

The protection order restricts her freedom, threatens jail and possible deportation, and emboldens her abusers, who continue their harassment with impunity. Our client faces a terrifying reality: any misstep could mean incarceration and removal from the only country she has called home as an adult, even though she gave up her original citizenship to become a U.S. citizen. That threat will weigh heavily every second of every day for the next two years.

This case exposes the painful realities of systemic racism and bias: how courts and institutions can be manipulated by those with unearned power, how victims are repeatedly silenced, and how the phenomenon of DARVO—deny, attack, and reverse victim and offender—works to protect abusers while punishing the vulnerable.

I write to remind us all that bullying and the marginalization of BIPOC immigrants still persist. Racism is real, and denial of it is dangerous. Judges, police, and community institutions can unknowingly perpetuate harm through internalized biases.

We are grateful for the hundreds of volunteers who have contributed thousands of hours fighting this injustice. Yet despite our best efforts and justice on our side, two good people are losing their home. The police who allowed abuse of power, the judicial system that continues to victimize the true victim, and the Homeowners Association—which now appears to include otherwise decent people who, in their belief that they are remaining “neutral,” perpetuate racism—all share responsibility.

I ask for your empathy, your voice, and your help. Stand with us to confront these currents of injustice so that, someday soon, instead of drowning in turbulent waters, we may all find ourselves between two calm waters. Victims in situations like this need financial help, legal volunteers, moving support, and food or cooking assistance.

As I continue reading Entre Dos Aguas and hoping for the calm between two waters, I hold onto the belief that my client and her uncle will one day live the sweet life they so deserve—a life of peace, safety, and dignity beyond this storm.

Joyce Shui earned her A.B. from Harvard University and her J.D. from New York University. She has taught public speaking at the college level and is a corporate and software licensing attorney with long-standing work in the Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) space. Ms. Shui is a former Bellevue School District board of director endorsed by the Seattle Times during her candidacy, and she is a regional manager for a global compliance team at global software company SAP. The opinions expressed herein do not necessarily reflect the views of any entity or organization with which she is associated.