Joan MacLeod Heminway

Rick Rose Distinguished Professor of Law

Law leadership involves so many things; among them: foundational knowledge and experience, a sense of purpose, and the courageous pursuit of that purpose.  On the day that I write this, January 15, 2024, we lost a great lawyer leader: my UT Law colleague, Fran Ansley.  Fran embodied that knowledge, experience, purpose, and courage in almost everything she did, in and outside the classroom.  A tour of her scholarly works only begins to tell the story.

Fran was the first person I came to know at UT Law.  She heard about my candidacy for a teaching position from a mutual friend, Gay Harter.  I worked with Gay and her husband Dick on immigration pro bono work for asylees and refugees in Boston during the last five or so of my fifteen years of practice there.  Gay and Fran were soul sisters, as it turns out.  This gave me a positive impression of UT Law from the start.  And Fran’s interest in my candidacy, I know, helped me survive the academic job-seeking tournament.

Fran also was the chair of the first UT Law committee I served on—focusing on pro bono and public service work and, overall, our law school community. (I later came to chair this committee, too.)  She managed and led the group’s work well—in an organized way and with a passion I admired.  Everyone was inspired to carry out the committee’s charge.  We got a lot done.  Her leadership in this regard is something I have never been able to fully emulate, but I will continue to strive to meet her exacting standards.

It was during this time that I earned that Fran, like me, was a night owl.  We would trade messages after midnight without even thinking about it.  And then, in a caring way, we would urge each other to get some sleep.  Neither of us could make any promises in that regard, as our loving hubbies would attest.  This memory is a warm one on this cold and snowy day.

Fran gave me lots of leadership counsel and support over the years, much of it unrequested and all of it valuable.  But there is one special bit of guidance that sticks with me.  I use it in times of difficult decision making and have passed it on to others.  Her advice was borne of her understanding of who I am and how I proceed through life, making it truly insightful.  She first articulated her understanding that I am a consensus builder by nature—seeing both sides and trying to find a way through that acknowledges each.  This is, indeed, a personal truth.  She noted her appreciation of this attribute and then offered her pearl of wisdom (close to a direct quote, and so I will treat it as one here): “But sometimes, there is just no compromising.  You need to take a stand.”

And Fran was an expert at taking a stand—even if it was likely to result in her getting arrested for trespassing during a protest or receiving nasty comments from students on teaching evaluations.  She endeavored to lead through actions and words every day.  I am forever grateful for that and for the effects her leadership has had on me and my growth as a law professor and lawyer leader.

When a leader leaves our midst, there is a great sense of loss.  I feel that loss today.  And yet I also know that the legacy of that leader includes the understanding that those of us who remain must strive to continue executing on that leader’s mission.  I also feel that need today.  I will never have the courage to lead in the way that Fran Ansley led.  She was a one-of-a-kind in that regard.  But I will endeavor to do my part to carry on, in her honor and memory, some of the work that she did.  The appreciation of that task consoles me in my grief and gives me hope for the future of our profession and our world.