by Dyanna Castañeda
“This means a lot to us,” my mother quietly said to Judge Bryan Clavecilla as she pulled him aside. My family and I were in Department C48 in the Santa Ana Courthouse where Judge Clavecilla had just sworn me into the California State Bar and given us a tour of his chambers. It was my first time meeting him, and I grew slightly embarrassed that my mother was becoming emotional. Unperturbed by my sheepishness, my mother continued, “Really, this is so special for Dyanna to be sworn in by a Filipino judge. She also had a very difficult upbringing because her father is in prison. Her dad and I were actually teenage parents, and we were in a gang around here back in the day.”
Judge Clavecilla perked up at this. “Really? What gang?”
When my mother told him the name, Judge Clavecilla’s head immediately dropped into his hand, a clear sign of recognition. He looked up at my mom, then me, then back at my mom. “Who’s her dad, then?” he asked, gesturing towards me. “[Redacted]. This is [redacted]’s daughter!” my mom replied, using my father’s moniker per gang tradition. Judge Clavecilla’s entire demeanor shifted in his disbelief; the honorific fell, and in that moment, he was just Bryan, that same young Filipino boy my father once knew.
Slowly, and then all at once, we began to unravel our serendipitously intertwined lives, which was nothing short of a Lifetime drama storyline. As a youngster, Judge Clavecilla experienced a short stint in my parents’ gang of troubled Filipino teenagers, and he knew of my parents as the older leaders of the pack. My own father had initiated Judge Clavecilla into the gang, and now, nearly three decades later, Judge Clavecilla initiated me into the practice of law—a full-circle moment that was palpable for everyone in the courtroom that day. This surreal experience confirmed our shared belief that similar origins have little bearing on who someone can become; with proper guidance, your past does not have to define your potential.
Like most judges, Judge Bryan Clavecilla is highly respected and well-decorated. His list of accomplishments boasts excellence in all areas: Filipino Lawyers of Orange County (FLOC) 2024 Judge of the Year, Chapman Law School 2025 M. Katherine Baird Darmer Commitment to Public Service Award, Constitutional Rights Foundation of Orange County (CRF-OC) 2026 Mock Trial Attorney Coach of the Year, lecturer in classrooms ranging from high school to law school, speaker at countless bar association events, board member of several organizations, and even a double gold and silver medalist at the IBJJF Orange County Open—Black Belt Masters, just to name a few. In 2024, Judge Clavecilla was appointed to the bench by Governor Gavin Newsom as the first male Filipino judge in Orange County after dedicating over sixteen years to the Orange County District Attorney’s office. As a DA, his unit assignments included difficult matters, including Special Prosecutions, Sexual Assault, and Human Exploitation and Trafficking. “From the very beginning,” recounts long-time friend and colleague Frances Prizzia (former Orange County Deputy Public Defender), “Bryan stood out as a prosecutor who was both fair and principled. He was firm and understood the importance of accountability, but he approached his role with balance, empathy, and respect for the defense.”
It is no revelation that judges exhibit excellence and regularly accomplish similar endeavors, so what sets Judge Clavecilla apart from his peers? The answer is simple: his life story. With his justice-impacted Filipino background, Judge Clavecilla brings to the bench intangible qualities that cannot be taught and are earned only through experience. His motivation for entering the field of law was deeply personal, stemming from witnessing many of his childhood peers face criminal punishment. He recalls attending a contested violation hearing of a close friend who was being charged as an adult for something he did as a minor. When walking into the courtroom that day, Judge Clavecilla felt alone and out of place, even though he was just testifying as a character witness. It seemed like no one cared to actually rehabilitate his friend’s behavior and instead pre-judged him, writing him off as a hopeless deviant. Judge Clavecilla never forgot that moment, and he grew fiercely determined to eradicate any feelings of otherness and isolation from a courtroom. “It matters less how you rule on someone, and more how you treat them,” he says. His unwavering empathy, passion, and genuine gratitude for his position shine through in each of his undertakings. Even when interviewing him for this article, I was surprised to note that he felt undeserving of this award because of how impressive the previous honorees are; his sincere humility still shadows the realization that he is already an integral mover and shaker in the social advocacy space.
Although Judge Clavecilla has many achievements under his belt, his life’s work has only just begun. His goal within the community is to increase inclusion and representation in the courtroom so people of any creed can feel comfortable enough to navigate the legal field. He recognizes that representation breeds courage: “If you’re pioneering a new path, then you have an important responsibility to not be the last in your village to cross that path.” Through his focus on youth mentorship and early intervention, he aims to encourage excellence so young people can feel like they belong in any room they are in. Specifically in the legal world, Judge Clavecilla recalls that for many young minorities, the presence of a lawyer or a judge typically meant trouble. Now, he seeks to flip that narrative and teach justice-impacted or struggling youth to have reverence for the law rather than fear.
Judge Clavecilla implements his mission by both leading formal social advocacy movements and facilitating small acts of inclusion each day. For Bring Your Child to Work Day, he often hosts the children of his friends and even fellow ex-gang members to increase transparency of the courtroom. He mentors people of all ages, from students like Chyna Le to young attorneys like me. Chyna met Judge Clavecilla during her undergraduate internship at the DA’s office, a few years before his judicial appointment. She had never seen anyone in a courthouse who looked like her, and she began to nurse a nagging self-doubt that she could not become an attorney. This all changed when Judge Clavecilla took her under his wing and made her feel comfortable in what was previously a nerve-wracking space, introducing her to quite literally everyone in the courtrooms—clerks, judges, opposing counsel, even bailiffs. She recalls a pivotal moment when he showed her a wall filled with photos of judges and told her, “We’re going to be up there next.” Through his encouragement and mentorship, Chyna is now a law student at the University of Notre Dame, where she just won her first mock trial championship.
Stories like mine and Chyna’s are merely two of many in Judge Clavecilla’s line of work. His dedication to redirecting youthful energy into positive, productive channels, in addition to being an empathetic and fair judge, both highlight his staunch commitment to achieving diversity, equity, and inclusion in the legal profession. Best put by Frances Prizzia, “Bryan is someone who has made it his mission to open doors for others. He doesn’t just lead—he lifts others up as he does it.” Our community is so proud of Judge Clavecilla for being the change he wants to see in the legal profession, and we are thrilled to have a strong leader at the helm of this social advocacy movement.
It is a great privilege and honor to present Judge Bryan Clavecilla as the 2026 recipient of the Orange County Bar Association’s Lei Lei Wang Ekvall Award. Congratulations and well-deserved, Your Honor!
Dyanna Castañeda is a defense-side employment attorney at Littler Mendelson, P.C. She is a recent UC Davis law school graduate and sits on the Pro Bono Advisory Council for Asian Americans Advancing Justice (AJSOCAL). She can be reached at dcastaneda@littler.com.