Barbara J. Pariente: chief justice of the Florida Supreme Court.

• Author: Pudlow, Jan
• Position: Interview

"She now brings to the office of the chief justice the qualities of someone who learned discipline from adversity and whose early vision of this new ethic has become the recognized standard."--Harry Lee Anstead

Petite powerhouse Barbara Pariente is used to being in control.

It's evident from her stellar trajectory from federal law clerk to Florida Supreme Court justice in two dozen years.

It's apparent in her talent for analyzing every argument with razor-sharp intellect, her perfectionist attention to detail in every opinion she writes, and her pinpoint precise questions from the bench that often catch lawyers off guard.

Control was snatched away from Pariente when a doctor uttered the dreaded C-word in March 2003 after a routine mammogram revealed breast cancer.

After a 14-hour double mastectomy and reconstructive surgery in June 2003, Pariente opened her personal journal and poured out her heart: "I have always feared breast cancer and losing my breasts. In the '60s and '70s, breast cancer was a death sentence and a mastectomy was disfiguring. No more. Not for me. I am not scared?? Not real fear. What are my emotions, I am asked. Anger? Yes. OK. And somewhat scared. Frustration. Our life is no longer as we planned. Any semblance of control wrested from us...."

The shocking diagnosis brought Pariente to her knees--but only temporarily. She fought back by doing what she does best: going into full analytical mode.

Anything but a passive patient, she kept a fat notebook of all her medical records, files of research, and questioned leading authorities on breast cancer, seeing at least 15 doctors in all.

"She attacked cancer with the same type of meticulous preparation she has used throughout her legal and judicial career," said husband Fred Hazouri, a Fourth District Court of Appeal judge.

After choosing an aggressive treatment, Pariente retreated to her Cape Cod summer home during the August 2003 court recess to start chemotherapy. She began yoga for relaxation, acupuncture to ward off nausea, and followed a diet recommended by a cancer nutritionist.

The hardest part, she admits, was losing her hair. One day, she scratched her head and clumps came out in handfuls that filled wastepaper baskets.

Buzz it, G.I. Jane!

"Fred began to tell me I needed to buzz my hair," Pariente wrote in her personal journal. "But I clung to my ever-decreasing head of hair like a poor child to her last scrap of food.... I continued to resist his mantra of 'Buzz it' until 8/12, when I realized the bald spots were growing and I would soon look (and feel) ... ridiculous. So when the sun came out, I took an outdoor shower and threw my head and hair back into the pounding water, washed with Miracle Soap, and looked up with a smile at the blue sky and felt free at last."

That afternoon, she emerged from her hairdresser's shop totally bald.

"I love my buzz!" Pariente wrote in her journal. "I love the touch and freedom of my adorable bald head.... I feel healthy and very alive.... I am G.I. Jane!"

When the Supreme Court reconvened later that month, Pariente clung to wearing a wig, worried about people's reactions. On the inside, she felt like she was hiding the "real me," and she was tired of "masquerading as if all was normal."

In a high profile citrus canker case October 7, Pariente took her place at the polished bench next to other justices, donning her familiar black robe and exposing her unfamiliar bald head. In Pariente's very public job, flinging off her wig was a visible declaration to the world that she was fighting breast cancer and there was no reason to feel ashamed. To the contrary, she saw it as "an affirmation of life--to do what is necessary to ensure good health."

During Pariente's liberating courtroom debut sans wig, there was a Supreme Court ceremony to induct new members to The Florida Bar. In his speech, then Bar President Miles McGrane made references to heroes in the law Atticus Finch and Chesterfield Smith. And then with a nod to Justice Pariente, he said, "I am so honored and pleased that you are doing what you're doing for your cause. You are a hero to me, and, I think, everyone here."

Clearly touched by his remarks, Pariente's eyes glistened with tears as the spectators broke into applause.

Never Missed an Oral Argument

Being aboveboard about her cancer took on striking proportions when Pariente allowed the Palm Beach Post to chronicle her treatment with a huge spread of pictures and words, including one dramatic closeup shot of her looking vulnerable as she held a sheet over her breasts, while a nurse drew blood.

Hundreds of cards and letters and e-mails poured in, including notes from Gov. Jeb Bush and his wife Columba, and from women who had faced breast cancer themselves, cheering Pariente on for her courage to fight cancer with such disarming honesty.

"That's who she is. It helped her to share her feelings, because she was simply sharing an experience that literally thousands and thousands of women face every day," Hazouri said. "If being open about it takes some of the mystery away, and she certainly is a survivor, it gives hope to other people."

U.S. 11th Circuit Court of Appeals Judge Rosemary Barkett, a close friend and the first woman on the Florida Supreme Court, said: "Barbara is so straightforward. Obviously, no one can be with you in very private moments when you are alone and have to face this. But in her relationships with people, it was amazing how much effort she expended in being upbeat and to make the best choices possible. I don't think anyone can help but admire her enormously."

Throughout her cancer treatment, Pariente never missed an oral argument and participated in all conferences, including one by telephone and one video conference.

"The most remarkable thing to me is while she sat at chemotherapy, she took a briefcase of her work, reading over cases and briefs, with an IV dripping in her arm," said Eleanor Hunter, executive director of the Florida Board of Bar Examiners.

Hunter is a breast cancer survivor herself, and Pariente, her neighbor at the time, helped her through the ordeal.

"She was a source of strength to me," Hunter said, "but I don't think she needed me as a source of strength. I don't think it ever occurred to her to stop working. I felt like a wimp in comparison."

Pariente's arsenal of strength came from those she loves--friends, family, and what she calls "my court family." She thanks Justice Charles Wells for calling on his daughter Shelley, a doctor married to a doctor, to get the best medical advice, Justice Raoul Cantero for enlisting his whole family to pray for her daily, and Justice Peggy Quince for staying with her when she needed help changing dressings.

Justices Harry Lee Anstead, Fred Lewis, and Kenneth Bell "offered to do anything I requested. Well, not quite anything. I don't think I got any more concurring votes out of this," Pariente joked.

What she says she did get out of breast cancer was "a calmer view about events. Among my friends, they know I am the ultimate planner. It is my lifestyle. If my experience of the past year has taught me anything, it has taught me...