Oregon’s Star-Chamber Hearing Could Cost State Officials Millions
By M. Thomas Nast with Michael Volpe and Richard Luthmann
Holiday ambush ignites constitutional firestorm.
SALEM, OREGON – In late September, the Oregon Office of Administrative Hearings lobbed a legal grenade into the inbox of family‑court whistleblower Jill Jones‑Soderman. As head of the Foundation for the Child Victims of the Family Courts and a longtime critic of judicial corruption, she was ambushed with a massive administrative “Notice of Hearing” on the eve of Rosh Hashanah.
State officials dumped hundreds of pages of documents on her just hours before the Jewish New Year. The hearing was scheduled for the first business day after the holiday.
Observers called it a brazen display of bureaucratic overreach—a shockingly heavy‑handed crusade against a watchdog. Jones Soderman was stunned. “Receiving this legal blitz on the eve of a holy day is unconscionable – it’s clearly intended to catch me off guard,” she wrote in a blistering email.
Court reform advocates said the timing was calculated to muzzle her. One supporter asked sarcastically, “What’s their defense, that they could have waited until she was praying in synagogue to pull the rug out? It’s beyond outrageous.”
The notice accuses Jones Soderman of unauthorized practice of psychology because she submitted a letter criticizing apparent family‑court injustices. The state treats the watchdog letter as a crime despite acknowledging that amicus submissions and petitions to courts fall squarely within the First Amendment’s Petition Clause.
Who is Jill Jones Soderman, and Why is Oregon Trying to Silence Her?
Jill Jones Soderman is neither an attorney nor a doctor, and does not hold herself out as one. She is a qualified family court expert witness and commentator with decades of experience.
Jill Jones Soderman is the founder and executive director of the nonprofit Foundation for the Child Victims of the Family Courts (FCVFC). She brings decades of experience as a forensic consultant, expert witness, and child-advocacy figure to her mission.
The FCVFC is a 501(c)(3) organization that assists protective parents and children who have encountered systemic failures in the family court system. It provides forensic analysis, legal support, strategic intervention, and advocacy services, often in high-conflict custody cases. The Foundation routinely publishes critiques of court procedures, alleges collusion between expert witnesses and judges, and calls out due process and civil rights violations in child custody proceedings.
Under Jones Soderman’s leadership, the FCVFC seeks to hold courts and court actors accountable and to reform systemic injustices in custody, abuse, and parental rights contexts. Her personal biography reflects a long career in social work, mediation, and forensic consultation. Her early life included work as a nurse’s aide, and she later earned a master’s degree in social work, working in both clinical and community settings.
Over time, she gravitated toward advocacy for children, especially those she views as having been failed by the judicial system. She remains a high-profile figure among family court reform activists and protective parent movements, frequently speaking, publishing, and consulting on issues related to court accountability, child protection, and custody reform.
“They’re protecting their own by trying to silence her and her expertise because it conflicts with their narrative,” a court‑reform advocate said. “This case, the Rubio case, is about a dead child that Oregon authorities don’t want to claim responsibility for.”
The agency swiftly filed a motion for summary determination, seeking to convict Jones‑Soderman without a hearing. When she requested more time to secure counsel and navigate the holiday document dump, officials refused, bluntly stating the hearing would proceed as scheduled and no continuance would be granted.
The heavy‑handed approach and procedural pile‑on raised alarms about due process and hinted at a coordinated attempt to chill critical speech. As supporters rallied court watchers, the question arose: was Oregon’s administrative machinery crossing constitutional lines, and could those behind the effort be personally liable for the damages?
Kiss My Black Ass: Star‑chamber tactics and racial exclusion fuel outrage.
The controversy reached a boiling point during a September 24 telephonic hearing. Black investigative journalist Rick LaRivière dialed in to cover what he saw as a public proceeding related to an alleged child‑murder cover‑up. Administrative Law Judge Jennifer H. Rackstraw promptly tried to remove him. When LaRivière asked if he was being excluded because he is Black, a reporter, or both, Rackstraw stunned observers by answering, “Yes. And I am also excluding you because this hearing is closed to the public.”
The admission acknowledged race and press status as the reasons for his ejection.
LaRivière refused to hang up. He demanded a written order so he could file an emergency petition in federal court.
“Have the courage to put your authoritarian ruling on paper so we can challenge it. I thought this was America,” he fumed.
His protest brought the hearing to a halt. Rather than allow a Black journalist to witness the proceeding, Rackstraw postponed it, making clear she would rather shut down the hearing than allow press scrutiny.
LaRivière’s comments encapsulated the mood: “Go ahead – throw out the press. Rip the First Amendment out of the Constitution while you’re at it. Erase the Free Press Clause and the Petition Clause from our Bill of Rights.”
After the hearing, LaRivière was apoplectic.
“The Oregon Board can KISS MY BLACK ASS. And you can quote me on that!” he said.
Jones‑Soderman joined the protest. “I will not agree to a closed hearing… I want the entire country to hear what is happening here,” she declared. She called the proceeding a “Star Chamber – an illegitimate, secret proceeding built on twisted evidence and lies.”
When Rackstraw threatened to continue the case without press, Jones‑Soderman vowed to appeal: “Do whatever you want… whatever you do, it’s going up on appeal… If you try to silence me here, I’ll see you in a real court of law.”
Ultimately, Rackstraw scheduled an in-person session, where she vowed that the reporter “will not be allowed in,” sending a chilling message that Oregon’s administrative court would rather throw out the First Amendment than let a Black reporter shine a light on its actions.
The ejection drew immediate backlash. This reporter and others emailed Oregon Department of Justice officials demanding answers. We recited the transcript of Rackstraw’s admission and asked: Does the DOJ interpret Judge Rackstraw’s “Yes” as an admission that Mr. LaRivière was excluded because he is Black?
We further asked why all white participants were allowed to remain while the only Black journalist was singled out.
The unanswered questions continue to fuel public anger.
Observers likened Oregon’s behavior to a “kangaroo court” and wondered whether the state’s actions were illegal. Free-speech advocates saw the star-chamber tactics as proof that the administrative board was operating beyond its authority.
Kiss My Black Ass: Supreme Court precedents undercut Oregon’s defense and expose potential liability.
The legality of Oregon’s actions hinges on constitutional and antitrust principles. The First Amendment protects not only abstract discussion but also vigorous advocacy of lawful ends.
In NAACP v. Button, the U.S. Supreme Court held that the activities of civil‑rights groups in organizing litigation are modes of expression and association protected by the First and Fourteenth Amendments. The Court emphasized that “abstract discussion is not the only species of communication which the Constitution protects; the First Amendment also protects vigorous advocacy.”
Litigation, the Court said, is “a form of political expression” and a means for achieving lawful objectives.
Those principles apply here. Jones‑Soderman’s letter was an amicus‑style submission addressing alleged judicial misconduct. Supreme Court precedents hold that the Petition Clause shields amicus submissions and other petitions to courts.
The Court in California Motor Transport Co. v. Trucking Unlimited recognized that citizens have the right to petition all three branches of government, including administrative agencies and courts. Oregon’s attempt to classify such a letter as unauthorized practice runs counter to those decisions and to Oregon’s own constitution, which broadly protects the right to speak, write, or print freely on any subject.
The question of personal liability also arises under antitrust law.
In North Carolina Board of Dental Examiners v. FTC, the Supreme Court held that state‑action antitrust immunity does not apply to non‑sovereign boards controlled by active market participants unless the state clearly articulates the challenged restraint and actively supervises the board.
A board cannot invoke Parker immunity unless its actions constitute an exercise of the state’s sovereign power. When a state delegates control over a market to private actors, immunity applies only if the state accepts political accountability for the anticompetitive conduct. Limits on immunity are “most essential when a State seeks to delegate its regulatory power to active market participants.”
The Court explained that a board dominated by active market participants must satisfy an active supervision requirement to claim immunity from liability. These rulings echo concerns that licensing boards could pursue private interests and stifle competition if left unchecked.
If the Oregon Board of Psychology is acting outside its limited administrative function—by using its licensing authority to punish political speech and suppress criticism—it clearly falls outside the shield of state‑action immunity. Jones‑Soderman’s supporters argue that the board’s members, many of whom are licensed psychologists, are acting as market participants seeking to silence a critic.
If the state fails to provide active supervision, the board could be treated as a private association engaged in anticompetitive conduct. Personal liability is not theoretical: the Supreme Court observed that arguments against applying antitrust laws to licensing boards dominated by market participants must be rejected.
States may indemnify board members, but absent clear policies and supervision, those members could face damage suits.
That specter looms over Oregon’s board. By equating a watchdog letter with unauthorized practice, they have arguably converted a protected petition into a regulated service. The result could expose them to lawsuits claiming violations of constitutional rights and federal antitrust statutes. As one advocate warned, the Constitution is coming for those who try to shutter the doors.
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