August 3rd, 2004

Well, the first time I addressed you, I was 11 years old; the second time I was 15 and requesting a new Mustang for my birthday. Well, the Mustang I got wasn't exactly the color that I ordered; however, I decided to keep it anyway.

So now I am 18 and I have the privilege of speaking at the swearing-in of my mother, Judy Preddy Draper. Mom told me that people were asking if I was going to speak and I guess I should have known that I would because well, it's like my Godmother Christi Ellie said: "You know, the preacher's kids, they always have to sing in the choir....well the judge's kid always has to speak at the swearing-ins."

So here I am. My mother's career has been a long one; the road leading up to this point has been rocky and filled with committees and disobedient clients. Whenever my mother gets involved in something, she immerses herself completely in whatever it is, which means sooner or later.... I have to be involved. So when she became involved in the ACLU, she committed me as well and I became a Jr. ACLU member. She forced me to attend meetings and pay close attention. I found myself not only learning about the death penalty at an impressionable age, but taking notes and being forced to study them. I had to attend her Race and Equality Committee meetings and tell the members what my generation thought about affirmative action, interracial dating, and my opinion about the existence of racial profiling. Well of course, I had to explain to my mother that I was just a child and that I considered her requests of me to be a sort of sweatshop; extorting ideas from my young mind, and that I was sure there were laws against this type of indirect child abuse SOMEWHERE in the bill of rights. She said fine and left me alone for a few days.

Then of course, she became president of the Missouri Asian Bar Association...that's when the abuse really picked up. I became the unofficial secretary/graphic artist/newsletter editor/ program director and all around gofer for MABA. The say that mom is a founding member; actually, I am THE founding member of MABA. Of course I worked without compensation...all I got was a dinner every year.

When my mother received notice that she was appointed to this judgeship, she came to school to pick me up and she hugged me and started crying without end. Then she says to me:

"Oh Chelsea, my darling, my sweetheart, my only child, now that I have this job, I'm sorry, but it means that I won't have as much time to spend with you!!"

Well. I would like to thank, every lawyer who wrote letters and called the governor, the commissioners that put my mother on the panel, and the governor for making this moment in my life possible. Thank you all so much, from the bottom of my heart.

Although I thought that would be the perfect ending to this, I realized that I can't just sit down with out complementing this beautiful young lady to my left. I was sitting at my computer when I asked myself: how can I properly describe so wonderful a person? That was the exact moment I ran across a quote from T.S. Eliot:

"The more perfect the artist, the more completely separate in him will be the man who suffers and the mind which creates."

My mother is perfect. Never has she or will she let her constant suffering effect her incredible creativity. This is how she has reached this height: working her hardest no matter what the circumstance and always thinking positively.

Mom, you truly deserve this judgeship and much more! I'm sorry that I can't give you everything you deserve... but what I can so is say thank you. So thank you mom for dragging me to meetings so that I could gain knowledge that I otherwise would not have, for teaching me how to speak for my self, thank you for all that you've given up for me over the years, and for all that you do. Although I did not realize it then, you weren't torturing me; you were simply doing the "extraordinary mom" thing and grooming me to be a strong, passionate, confident woman just like you. I am so happy for you! Congratulations mom.