I wanted to be a lawyer. More specifically, I dreamed of being a judge. An intelligent, objective dispenser of justice. A superhero in a robe instead of a cape. I’d get the bad guys off the streets, protect the innocent and make sure justice was served. Simple, right?
Then I married my first husband, who was a lawyer, and began discovering something rather inconvenient about the law. It’s human — written by humans, interpreted by humans, applied by humans. And humans, as it turns out, are spectacularly flawed.
We love to imagine ourselves as the good guys. We would have stood up to the Nazis. We would have spoken out when our neighbors were being persecuted. We would never have sat by quietly while innocent people suffered. We would have fought!
Right after we finish this Netflix special. And didn’t I already donate money to fix that?
It’s easy to imagine ourselves as heroes when heroism is hypothetical. It’s considerably harder when standing up for someone requires us to sacrifice something, like voting, apparently.
Again. Didn’t we just do this?
And now you’re telling me I have to vote for judges? I thought judges were appointed or hired or selected by some mysterious committee of very serious people who own an alarming number of law books. Obviously, I didn’t go into law.
But wait, aren’t all judges supposed to be the same? Impartial. Objective. Blindfolded, even. Isn’t that the whole point of Lady Justice? If judges are simply interpreting the law, why does it matter which ones we elect? And why are they running as Democrats and Republicans? These are reasonable questions. Especially if, like me, you’ve occasionally reached the judicial section of your ballot and realized you know more about the contestants on RuPaul’s Drag Race than the candidates for the North Carolina Court of Appeals.
According to the North Carolina State Board of Elections, voters across the state will elect one Supreme Court justice and three Court of Appeals judges on Nov. 3. They serve eight-year terms. And I thought committing to a two-year phone contract was a big decision.
Of course, judges are supposed to apply the law impartially. But laws aren’t always clear, and judges can disagree about what they mean. Sometimes those disagreements determine whether a parent must pay child support or whether someone can obtain protection from an abusive partner.
So, no, judges aren’t interchangeable. And the differences between their legal interpretations aren’t merely academic. Just ask the two North Carolina mothers whose child-support dispute ended up before the Court of Appeals. In March 2024, the North Carolina Court of Appeals issued a divided ruling in Green v. Carter, a child-support dispute involving two women who had planned a family together through in vitro fertilization.
According to the court’s published opinion, the women shared custody of their daughter after separating. A Mecklenburg County judge ordered Tricosa Green, the nonbiological mother, to pay child support. Green appealed. The Court of Appeals reversed the order. Judge Donna Stroud, joined by Judge Julee Flood, concluded that existing North Carolina law did not permit Green to be ordered to pay support because she was neither the child’s biological nor adoptive parent and had not formally assumed a support obligation in writing.
Judge Toby Hampson disagreed. In his dissent, he argued that a person who voluntarily assumes parental responsibilities can also acquire an obligation to support the child. He cited an earlier state Supreme Court decision involving an unmarried heterosexual couple and questioned why a different approach should apply to a same-sex family.
Hampson is seeking reelection to the Court of Appeals this November. His dissent provides a documented example of how one of this year’s candidates approached a legal question involving an LGBTQ+ family.
The case also illustrates something broader: custody rights and child-support obligations do not always align under laws written before many contemporary family arrangements were recognized.
Another case illustrates how judicial decisions can affect personal safety. North Carolina previously excluded certain unmarried same-sex couples from obtaining domestic violence protective orders.
In M.E. v. T.J., the Court of Appeals ruled in December 2020 that the exclusion violated constitutional equal-protection guarantees.
According to the North Carolina Judicial Branch, the case challenged the state’s domestic violence statute as applied to people in same-sex dating relationships. The state Supreme Court subsequently left the constitutional ruling intact in 2022, resolving the appeal on narrower procedural grounds. Justice Anita Earls, who is seeking reelection this year, participated in the Supreme Court’s decision.
The result meant that people in same-sex dating relationships could seek domestic violence protective orders under the same standards applicable to heterosexual couples. For someone facing abuse, the legal distinction can determine access to a court order intended to provide immediate protection.
The Court of Appeals has 15 judges who generally hear cases in three-judge panels. They review decisions from trial courts and certain state agencies, examining whether the law was interpreted and applied correctly. Many cases end there.
The seven-member state Supreme Court is North Carolina’s highest court. It reviews certain appeals and resolves questions of state law and constitutional interpretation. Not every case reaches it, but its decisions establish precedents that lower state courts must follow.
Judges don’t write legislation. They do, however, determine how laws apply to particular disputes and whether those laws comply with constitutional requirements. And those disputes extend far beyond family law. North Carolina’s 2024 Supreme Court election offers another example of the judiciary’s influence.
Republican Court of Appeals Judge Jefferson Griffin challenged tens of thousands of ballots after losing his race against Democratic incumbent Justice Allison Riggs. The dispute continued for months, moving through state and federal courts. According to the Associated Press, a federal judge ruled in May 2025 that the disputed ballots must remain in the count and ordered certification of Riggs’ 734-vote victory. Griffin subsequently conceded rather than appeal. Riggs was sworn in on May 13, more than six months after Election Day.
The dispute raised questions about voter eligibility, election procedures and whether ballots could be rejected under requirements imposed after an election. Fair Judges NC, a campaign website funded by the North Carolina Democratic Party, highlights the dispute as part of its argument about the importance of judicial elections. Its characterization reflects the party’s political position; the underlying court decisions and election results are independently documented. The case demonstrates how courts can become responsible for resolving disputes over the elections that determine their own membership.
North Carolina’s long-running Leandro litigation provides another example of the courts’ influence on everyday life. The case concerns the state’s constitutional obligation to provide children with an opportunity to receive a sound basic education. Litigation over how to fulfill that obligation has continued for decades, including disputes about school funding and the authority of judges to order the transfer of state money.
As the Associated Press reported in March 2023, the state Supreme Court revisited a previous school-funding decision after its membership changed. In a 5–2 ruling, the court reinstated an earlier decision blocking the transfer of approximately $1.75 billion without legislative approval. The majority and dissent disagreed over the courts’ authority to enforce the state’s constitutional education obligations.
Fair Judges NC also highlights school funding in its discussion of judicial elections. The case itself is not specifically about LGBTQ+ students, but its outcome concerns the public education system attended by students and families across North Carolina. Together, the election and education cases show that appellate courts interpret laws governing not only individual disputes but also the responsibilities of state institutions.
This year’s judicial ballot includes one Supreme Court contest and three Court of Appeals races. Incumbent Democratic Justice Anita Earls faces Republican state Rep. Sarah Stevens for the Supreme Court.
Democratic Court of Appeals incumbents John Arrowood and Toby Hampson face Republicans Michael Byrne and George Bell, respectively. The remaining Court of Appeals contest is between Democratic District Court Judge Christine Walczyk and Republican Superior Court Judge Craig Collins.
The State Board of Elections’ 2026 Judicial Voter Guide includes candidate statements, qualifications and explanations of both courts. In its 2026 endorsement announcement, Equality NC PAC endorsed Earls, Arrowood, Hampson and Walczyk. The organization identifies LGBTQ+ equality, including opposition to restrictions on gender-affirming healthcare, among its policy priorities.
Endorsements tell voters which candidates advocacy organizations support. Judicial opinions, professional backgrounds and candidates’ own statements provide different kinds of information about their experience and approaches to the law.
Not every LGBTQ+ rights dispute ends up in North Carolina’s appellate courts. Some go through the federal courts. But our state judges still make decisions about our families, our safety, our schools and our healthcare. And behind every legal argument is someone who has to live with the outcome. Which brings me back to my childhood dream of being a hero in a black robe.
I will never become a lawyer or a judge. Apparently, I don’t even understand how judges get their jobs. But I still believe in justice. I still want someone to recognize that behind every case number is an actual human being.
I won’t get to deliver a brilliant closing argument or dramatically object in a courtroom. But I can learn about the people who will spend the next eight years making decisions that affect our lives. And I can vote.
We all like to imagine we’d be the heroes when it matters. But democracy doesn’t require us to be superheroes. It requires us to show up, pay attention and participate — even in those elections that don’t come with flashy campaign ads or presidential debates.
So let’s do our homework. Learn who’s on your ballot. And vote all the way down it. No law degree required. No cape necessary.
This story is brought to you by Rosedale Health and Wellness and Dudley’s Place.
