The Seattle Times described the nomination of Judge Richard A. Jones for a federal district judgeship as follows, “This is a lifetime appointment with no room for mistakes, and we believe there is no mistake here.” Such strong support emphasizes a distinguished career. Judge Jones presided over some of Washington’s most difficult and high-profile cases, including the sentencing of Gary Ridgway, the “Green River Killer,” earning widespread respect for his fairness, professionalism, and judicial demeanor.

A graduate of Seattle University and the University of Washington School of Law, Judge Jones has represented both plaintiffs and defendants in a wide range of civil matters.

Before his federal appointment, Judge Jones served as a state and federal prosecutor and as a King County Superior Court Judge. Beyond the courtroom, he has been a dedicated public servant, serving on the YMCA board and mentoring minority youth throughout Seattle.
In the following interview, Judge Jones reflects on the barriers he encountered throughout his career and the enduring lesson that guided him forward: do not let the times, no matter how challenging, determine your ability to succeed.

Judge Jones grew up in Seattle’s Central District as the youngest of eight children, in a neighborhood that was predominantly African American and working class. His parents instilled in their children a relentless emphasis on hard work and education.

His father’s career was shaped by overt racial discrimination. Although he was a skilled finish carpenter, union practices repeatedly forced him to restart his journeyman licensing. Jim Crow–era restrictions and exclusion from stable union work ultimately pushed the family to Bremerton, where his father found steady employment at the naval shipyards. To make ends meet, Black tradesmen often relied on informal, cash-based work, sometimes for dangerous employers, simply to survive.

Judge Jones proudly displays an article about his father’s struggles with Jim Crow discrimination in his office as a reminder of the struggles that past generations have had to overcome (pictured).
 
Judge Jones also watched his mother endure daily indignities as a domestic worker, including racial slurs and discriminatory treatment. Despite this, the community itself was strong. Neighbors worked as seamstresses, bartenders, tradespeople, and service workers. Many were single parents doing everything they could to keep their children out of trouble and on a productive path.

Education, Judge Jones emphasized, was framed as the family’s “key to freedom.” It was the one opportunity that could not be taken away.

Growing up in poverty profoundly shaped how Judge Jones approaches his role as a federal judge. He has seen firsthand how limited opportunity, lack of guidance, and economic desperation can push people toward crime. He emphasizes that these circumstances are not as an excuse but are extremely relevant context.

Lived experience has given Judge Jones a broader understanding of the defendants who come before the court. Many grew up without educational support, stable housing, or parental supervision due to work demands. Those early deficits compound over time.

Judge Jones shared a telling example. In a bail hearing, the government argued a woman lacked legitimate income because she “just did hair.” Drawing on his upbringing, Judge Jones explained that hair braiding and styling were essential, legitimate forms of work in Black communities that often support entire families. His own mother relied on such services, and he personally witnessed women raising children and sending them to college through that labor alone. Recognizing the bias underlying the government’s position, he granted bail.

That, he explained, is one of the perspectives he brings to the bench: recognizing forms of work, survival, and dignity that may be invisible to those without exposure.

Judge Jones acknowledged that efforts to expand diversity and opportunity often meet resistance. When he helped establish a first-year clerkship program designed to give students of color paid experience at law firms, some students pushed back, believing opportunities were being taken from them.

Judge Jones responded directly. He explained that the program did not remove any existing opportunities—it created new ones. Many students already had access through family connections and professional networks. The program simply leveled the playing field for those who had none.
For Judge Jones, representation matters—but not as symbolism alone. It matters because it opens doors and changes assumptions about who belongs in the legal profession.

Judge Jones recounted a defining moment early in his career. While clerking at the U.S. Attorney’s Office, he was recruited by one of the city’s largest law firms. After completing interviews and being invited to lunch, he was instead told that senior partners worried how clients would react to a Black lawyer representing them. He was angry that an opportunity had been ripped away over factors he could not control. However, he chose to take advice that he had received. He chose to create another path for himself and, to avoid reliving that pain, he began attaching his photograph to his résumé. Now, firms unwilling to hire a Black lawyer could reject him upfront. Within weeks, he applied to the King County Prosecutor’s Office, where he was welcomed. That decision launched his legal career.

Rejection, he said, became recalibration.

When asked how young lawyers should respond to discrimination, especially the subtle kind that dominates today, Judge Jones offered clear guidance:
First, do not react with hostility. That reaction is often used to justify the bias itself. Second, seek counsel from experienced mentors and listen carefully. Third, keep going.

Obstacles, he emphasized, are inevitable. What matters is how you respond.

“You figure out a way around the wall, over the wall, or through the wall—but you don’t stop.”

Judge Jones cautioned against letting fear dictate one’s path. He recalled being told repeatedly that he had “no chance” at certain positions, including his judgeship. One business owner bluntly told him he had “a snowball’s chance in hell.”

Judge Jones got the job anyway.

Fear, he said, prevents people from trying, from aiming higher, from believing in their own potential. He often tells students:
“You can’t get an A if you’re afraid to get an F.”

Hard work, belief, and mentorship are essential. Mentors need not come from within one’s workplace, and asking for “five minutes” can open doors that fear keeps closed.

Judge Jones volunteers extensively because he recognizes the sacrifices others made so he could succeed. Mentorship, for him, is repayment.

Judge Jones believes judges must follow the law but also understand the real-world impact of their decisions. Within legal bounds, judges must ensure clarity, fairness, and respect.

He sees his role as neither a tool of the government nor the defense, but as a guardian of fairness. Calling defendants “sir,” ensuring they feel heard, and protecting constitutional rights are not symbolic gestures, they are core judicial duties.

People may be guilty or innocent, he noted, but dignity and fairness are non-negotiable.

Judge Jones closed with the principle that has guided his life and career:

Don’t let the times affect your potential, nor your capacity, to succeed.

History, bias, and circumstance may shape the terrain, but they do not determine the outcome unless you allow them to. For Judge Jones, survival became success, rejection became recalibration, and fear was never allowed to make the final decision.