When the Oklahoma Supreme Court reinstated my license to practice law, it gave me more than the ability to return to courtrooms and client files. It gave me a second chance at life. The court’s decision affirmed that mistakes, even serious ones, do not have to define a career or a person. It reminded me that our profession rests not only on accountability but also on restoration.

That second chance did not end with the court’s order. Soon after, the Eastern District of Oklahoma readmitted me and welcomed me to the Criminal Justice Act panel. The trust placed in me by the judges of the Eastern District meant that my return to practice was not symbolic. It was real, and it carried with it both responsibility and hope.

As a citizen of the Cherokee Nation, that trust holds special meaning. The Eastern District is where so much of the work of justice in Indian Country takes place. It is where tribal sovereignty, federal law and individual rights meet every day. Serving there has given me a new way to stand alongside tribal citizens, Native communities and others navigating the complexities of federal criminal law.

This opportunity is also rooted in the journey that preceded my setback. Before my suspension, I devoted much of my career to Indian Country. I represented the Cherokee Nation as an assistant attorney general, working on matters that touched nearly every corner of tribal life. Later, I served as tribal liaison for the United States Attorney’s Office, building bridges between federal prosecutors and tribal governments. Teaching Indian law allowed me to pass on that knowledge to the next generation. Service to Indian Country has always been central to who I am, and it remains so today.

Now, with admission in the Eastern District of Oklahoma, the 10th Circuit Court of Appeals and numerous tribal courts, I can continue that service in a renewed way. These admissions allow me to advocate for Native clients and tribal governments in the forums where sovereignty and justice are most often tested.

Still, the law alone could not carry me through a season of rebuilding. What made this journey possible were the people of this profession. Dozens of members of the OBA, colleagues, former opponents and even those who only knew of my story extended encouragement when I needed it most. They reminded me that resilience and redemption are not abstract ideals. They are lived out in the relationships we hold and the grace we extend to one another.

Today, I stand again as a lawyer in good standing, leading my own practice, teaching and mentoring, always mindful of the responsibility that comes with restoration. Second chances are not owed. They are given. They come from courts willing to weigh not only the conduct that led to discipline but also the evidence of rehabilitation, from colleagues prepared to set aside gossip and choose generosity and from a community that believes people can grow after they fall.

The power of a second chance is that it transforms not only a career but a life. Mine has been transformed. And for that, I will spend the rest of my career working to honor the trust you have placed in me.

Editor’s Note: A similar version of this article was also published in The Journal Record.

Ms. Jordan is the founder of Suli Law PLLC in Tulsa.