At the Brooklyn Democratic Party Judicial Convention on Thursday at the Marine Park Golf Course, Judge Ruchie Freier became the first Hasidic woman ever nominated for the New York State Supreme Court.

As she prepared to receive the nomination, Freier leapt happily into frame with Democratic party leaders and fellow judicial nominees to have her picture taken. When a man leaned toward her for a congratulatory hug – forgetting that Freier’s Hasidic observance barred her from touching him – the judge knew exactly what to say.

“I won’t hug you because I’m Hasidic, but thank you!” Freier said, leaning back.

Freier, a mother of six who grew up in Boro Park and still lives there today, hopes to show other Hasidic women, through her work as a judge and volunteer efforts, that they can pursue lofty career goals while still observing religious customs, such as gender separation.

Before Freier was the first anything, she was a justice-minded big sister who stood up for her little siblings and for other vulnerable people, she said. “I was always sticking up for people who didn’t have a voice.”

A high school course gave Freier the skills – and the passion – to become a legal secretary, but she was never encouraged to go to college. She got married at 19 and continued her work as a legal secretary to support her husband David Freier while he was studying in kollel, a rabbinical institute. When David eventually graduated from Touro University, Freier remembers thinking, "Now it's my turn. Now it's my turn." At 30, she enrolled there. Because of her many other responsibilities, it took her six years to graduate, but she did, and then attended Brooklyn Law School, from which she graduated in 2005.

While pursuing a legal career, Freier also became deeply involved in Haredi causes. In 2005, she established Chasdei Devorah, a charity organization serving poor Jewish families, and in 2008, she helped found B’Derech, a GED program for Haredi men who didn’t receive an adequate secular education. Then, in 2014, Freier turned her attention to women’s inclusion in the Haredi community when she established Ezras Nashim, an all-female volunteer ambulance service, designed to complement the all-male Hatzolah.

All the while, she worked as a lawyer in private practice, but in her legal career, too, her eye turned toward public service.

In 2016, Freier became a Brooklyn civil court judge after a narrow primary victory; at her swearing-in ceremony that year, Hasidic singer Lipa Schmeltzer performed "God Bless America" in Yiddish.

In January, Freier was appointed to fill a vacancy on the Kings County Supreme Court, which is part of the New York State Supreme Court. Now, she hopes to be elected to her current role, and has been formally nominated alongside five other judges. In Brooklyn, where voters lean heavily toward the Democratic party, Freier and her fellow nominees are very likely to win their general elections, if they even face opponents.

On navigating her personal religious beliefs and the law, Freier said there is no conflict because she follows the Jewish principle dina d'malkhuta dina – the law of the land is the law. “We live here, this is the law, and this is what applies,” she said. “Of course, if the law is anti-religion, it’s a different story, but if the law is telling you zoning rules or ordinances or contract law, that will apply.” After publication of this article, Freier clarified in a phone call to Shtetl that when she said "anti-religion," she was referring to specific kinds of government actions: "What I was referring to was when there were laws, let's say, by the Holocaust, where the laws of the land were anti-Jewish, where you couldn't be a practicing Jew, that was when the dina d'malkhuta dina was not applicable."

In Hasidic communities, every woman pursuing a career is doing so on top of an already-intense set of family-related responsibilities and religious obligations, especially if her family cannot afford to hire a housekeeper, or if her husband can’t or doesn’t help. Freier hopes to inspire Hasidic women to pursue whatever career goals they may have, while acknowledging the difficulties many Hasidic women face in doing just that.

Freier attributes her success partly to support she had from her husband, David. “People make a big deal of me being the first Hasidic woman, but I think the bigger deal is my husband being the first Hasid that allowed his wife to run for public office, supported my campaign, ran around getting signatures for me, telling people ‘vote for my wife,’” Freier told journalist Megyn Kelly in 2017. “That was really a big deal.”

Indeed, her husband is her biggest fan. “Not everyone can live with this life,” David, who works in real estate, told Shtetl. “She’s always running someplace else, while I’m running my place.”

“She cooks, she bakes, she makes challah every week, every night makes supper. She doesn’t spend an hour cooking; she makes it fast,” David said. “She goes to bed at 1 o’clock, gets up at 7.”

Freier interjects: “I drink coffee.”

Freier’s success has inspired her children. Her son, Meilech Freier, said he has found inspiration in what his mom has been able to achieve despite opposition from some people in the community. Many people in the community take pride in Freier’s success and support her trailblazing career, but there is some opposition from members of Hatzolah, the dominant Orthodox ambulance service, who want people facing emergencies to call them instead of Ezras Nashim. 

“When I see all the opposition she has, and how Hashem helps her, it builds up my spirituality and belief in God, that if you have good goals, you can achieve them,” said Meilech, who works in real estate with his dad.

Freier’s daughter, Leah Freier-Levine, has followed her mother in becoming an emergency medical technician. In addition to having a family of her own, Freier-Levine is the chief operating officer of Ezras Nashim and a Touro graduate.

“She has my mother’s nature: she’s a workaholic and she has a good mouth,” Meilech said of his sister’s ambition and verbal skills.

Freier has also inspired people outside of her family. Levi Jurkowicz, a community liaison to the Haredi-run ParCare Community Health Network, came to the convention to support Freier, who he views as an inspiration and mentor. He took a selfie with her (without touching, of course) and shared it in his family WhatsApp group.

“I grew up Hasidic in Israel, and when I look at my sisters, some of them are really brilliant, but the highest job they could have is a teacher,” he said.

“I’m taking a selfie with a 100% Hasidic lady, everything is kosher, and she can make it to the Supreme Court, and everything is OK.”

In her speech at the convention, the judge thanked members of the local democratic establishment who nominated her. “I wish I can hug you all. I will – ladies only, though,” she said, true to form.

This article was updated to include a clarification from Ruchie Freier on her use of the term "anti-religion."