Farewell to Judge Gladys Barsamian founding mother by Chris Derdarian
Gladys Barsamian was the first woman lawyer I knew. I met her nearly 45 years ago when she came to lunch with my mother and me to seek guidance on running for office. She was so smart, so warm, so lovely, and so eager to make strides. I was in awe. As her wonderful career burgeoned, not only did she mark one achievement after another in reaching her personal goals, she made major contributions to the field of juvenile justice. Because of her efforts and wisdom, knowledge of the plight of children in the justice system was unveiled and the conscientious of the community, at large, was raised.
On the bench, Gladys tempered justice with both mercy and problem solving. She was unafraid of controversy and she was unafraid to set new parameters and create new paradigms. Her concern and care for the children and families who appeared in her court were profound and heartfelt. She didn’t “leave her work at the office”. She brought it home, worrying about the impact of her decisions and the lives and destinies she held in her hands. Sometimes, the weight of that responsibility caused her to agonize before she rendered a final ruling. Every decision she ever made was measured, well thought out, and optimal, given the constraints of the law and the facts of the case. Unlike so many in any long career, she never became complacent, cavalier, or desensitized to the dilemmas presented to her. She was a superb jurist, not just because she knew the law, but because she was also a superb human being.
In her personal life, Gladys was raucously witty, generous and so, so kind. She helped many, many young professionals, including me. If you were fortunate enough to have her as a friend, you had an advocate for life. Modest about her own distinguished career, she wanted to see others succeed and made herself a valuable resource to those in need of advice or assistance in making connections. She helped to mold many careers and did so for the sheer pleasure of reaching back and lifting others up to their own pursuits of life goals and dreams.
Gladys also had a very “girly” side. She loved hearth and home, fine things, beautiful art, jewelry, china, and décor. And she and Rose were hostesses extraordinaire. What never escaped me was the fact that Gladys took joy in every aspect of her life -- her work, her family, her multitude of devoted friends, her travels, and her Armenian heritage. She loved, valued, and appreciated it all.
And, riding shotgun, with our wonderful Gladys, was Rose. Lifelong friends, Rose was there for all the victories and disappointments in Gladys’ life. She was a booster, a confidante, and the embodiment of the definition of “friend”. Rose, like Gladys, always is there for anyone in need, sick, grieving, troubled, or weathered by age. I will never forget their gentle attentiveness to my mother in her last years, their wonderful visits with goodies from Steve’s Deli, their uplifting presence, and their sheer kindness. What a treasured gift.
As we honor and pay tribute to Gladys, I hope we will take a page from the book of her life by bringing courage and competence to our work, love to our friends and family, and recognition, that as citizens of this complicated world, we must leave it a better place when our lives are done. That is Gladys’ legacy. We should all aspire to make it our own.
Chris Derdarian
Crain's Detroit Retired Wayne County Juvenile Judge Gladys Barsamian dies at 84
Gladys Barsamian was the first woman lawyer I knew. I met her nearly 45 years ago when she came to lunch with my mother and me to seek guidance on running for office. She was so smart, so warm, so lovely, and so eager to make strides. I was in awe. As her wonderful career burgeoned, not only did she mark one achievement after another in reaching her personal goals, she made major contributions to the field of juvenile justice. Because of her efforts and wisdom, knowledge of the plight of children in the justice system was unveiled and the conscientious of the community, at large, was raised.
On the bench, Gladys tempered justice with both mercy and problem solving. She was unafraid of controversy and she was unafraid to set new parameters and create new paradigms. Her concern and care for the children and families who appeared in her court were profound and heartfelt. She didn’t “leave her work at the office”. She brought it home, worrying about the impact of her decisions and the lives and destinies she held in her hands. Sometimes, the weight of that responsibility caused her to agonize before she rendered a final ruling. Every decision she ever made was measured, well thought out, and optimal, given the constraints of the law and the facts of the case. Unlike so many in any long career, she never became complacent, cavalier, or desensitized to the dilemmas presented to her. She was a superb jurist, not just because she knew the law, but because she was also a superb human being.
In her personal life, Gladys was raucously witty, generous and so, so kind. She helped many, many young professionals, including me. If you were fortunate enough to have her as a friend, you had an advocate for life. Modest about her own distinguished career, she wanted to see others succeed and made herself a valuable resource to those in need of advice or assistance in making connections. She helped to mold many careers and did so for the sheer pleasure of reaching back and lifting others up to their own pursuits of life goals and dreams.
Gladys also had a very “girly” side. She loved hearth and home, fine things, beautiful art, jewelry, china, and décor. And she and Rose were hostesses extraordinaire. What never escaped me was the fact that Gladys took joy in every aspect of her life -- her work, her family, her multitude of devoted friends, her travels, and her Armenian heritage. She loved, valued, and appreciated it all.
And, riding shotgun, with our wonderful Gladys, was Rose. Lifelong friends, Rose was there for all the victories and disappointments in Gladys’ life. She was a booster, a confidante, and the embodiment of the definition of “friend”. Rose, like Gladys, always is there for anyone in need, sick, grieving, troubled, or weathered by age. I will never forget their gentle attentiveness to my mother in her last years, their wonderful visits with goodies from Steve’s Deli, their uplifting presence, and their sheer kindness. What a treasured gift.
As we honor and pay tribute to Gladys, I hope we will take a page from the book of her life by bringing courage and competence to our work, love to our friends and family, and recognition, that as citizens of this complicated world, we must leave it a better place when our lives are done. That is Gladys’ legacy. We should all aspire to make it our own.
Chris Derdarian
Crain's Detroit Retired Wayne County Juvenile Judge Gladys Barsamian dies at 84