Every lawyer in Virginia must take a mandatory professionalism course as part of their bar admission, a course designed to teach integrity, fairness, and respect in the practice of law. Yet, in 2025, this course still bears the name of former Chief Justice Harry L. Carrico—a man whose judicial legacy includes defending racial segregation and upholding laws that denied basic rights to Virginians.
For decades, Carrico sat at the top of Virginia’s legal system. He was the author of Loving v. Commonwealth, the decision that upheld Virginia’s ban on interracial marriage. His ruling sought to deny people the right to marry based on race, reinforcing the kind of systemic discrimination that held Virginia back for generations. If he had his way, some of us, and our neighbors, friends, and colleagues simply wouldn’t exist, let alone practice law in this state. And he was not merely a man of his time following the law—his decision was overturned by the U.S. Supreme Court just a year later, making clear that he was on the wrong side of history even as he wrote it.
The legal system that governs every aspect of our lives still chooses to honor a justice who upheld exclusion rather than those who fought against it. For attorneys, sitting through a required course with his name on it reinforces an institutional history that should not be upheld. It signals that our full participation in the profession remains conditional—that we are permitted to be here, but the structures around us were not built with us in mind.
And this extends far beyond lawyers. If the legal profession is unwilling to acknowledge the harm caused by elevating figures like Carrico, what does that mean for the people who seek justice in our courts? What does it say to the communities whose rights have long been denied when even a basic acknowledgment of history is seen as too much to Ask?
Attaching Carrico’s name to a course on professionalism is more than a contradiction—it is an ongoing injury. It forces lawyers and the people we serve to confront, again and again, the reality that the legal system still protects its own history over those it is meant to serve.
This is not about erasing history. It’s about recognizing it and demonstrating that Virginia’s legal community is capable of growth. The Virginia State Bar has an opportunity to prove that it is not defined by its past but by its commitment to an inclusive profession. It’s time to rename the course.
[Karin Kissiah is a distinguished criminal defense attorney with over twenty years of experience in both trial and appellate courts. She has tried cases before juries in Georgia, Virginia, and the Military Commissions at Naval Station Guantanamo Bay.]
