Excellence Under Pressure: Harris County’s “Fab Five” Judges

When the LGBTQ+ Victory Fund announced that it was endorsing five Harris County judges for re-election in 2026, a full year ahead of the general election and months before the Texas secretary of state’s December 8 candidate filing deadline, it sent a remarkably clear signal. This unusually early endorsement emphatically proclaimed that these incumbents, dubbed the “Fab Five,” are simply too good to risk losing.

“It’s rare that a group of LGBTQ+ elected officials have done as well in office as the ‘Fab Five’ in Harris County have done,” says Evan Low, Victory Fund’s president and CEO. “When you have a good thing, we say keep it going.”

What makes this endorsement so significant is not just the candidates’ shared LGBTQ identities. Their collective record on the bench demonstrates consistent impartiality, innovation, and excellence in one of the most complex judicial landscapes in America. Harris County is home to nearly five million people, which is more than the entire state of Louisiana. With dockets spanning civil trials, mental health commitments, and criminal proceedings, the Fab Five’s decisions affect residents across every demographic line.

And yet, their very identities mean they carry a burden that their cisgender, heterosexual peers often don’t. For highly visible professionals from marginalized populations, there is nearly always the expectation that they must be flawless.

“All judges know they will make unpopular decisions. A ruling in court, by definition, creates winners and losers,” notes Judge Beau Miller. “My goal is not to be the best LGBTQ judge there is. My goal is to be the best judge there is who happens to be LGBTQ and/or HIV positive.”

That distinction underscores the harsh truth that queer judges don’t get to simply be “good enough.” They are expected to outperform just to maintain legitimacy in the eyes of voters and colleagues.

Setting the Standard of Excellence

Judge Beau Miller

“Presenting myself as a knowledgeable, experienced candidate who has done well on the bench, who’s been recognized for judicial excellence—no matter what the letters after my name are—that’s the goal,” Miller explains.

A former high-school band director and educator, Miller brings both empathy and rigor to the bench. His lived experience with HIV has also shaped his understanding of how health challenges can affect litigants. “When you walk into the 190th, you’re respected no matter who you are, where you come from, and what your background is,” he says. “If you can’t get a timely hearing or walk in with respect from the judge, then that is unjust.”

Respect, he emphasizes, must extend beyond the courtroom. “We have to go out in the community and get to know people who are not like you, respect them, and visit with them. You have those exchanges, and you learn.”

Miller’s recognition, coupled with his visibility as an openly gay and HIV-positive judge, exemplifies how the Fab Five are redefining what excellence looks like under scrutiny.

Leading With Integrity and Strength

Judge Shannon Baldwin

If Miller demonstrates how excellence earns recognition, Judge Shannon Baldwin shows how representation coupled with leadership can transform institutions. As presiding judge of Harris County Criminal Court at Law No. 4, she made history as the first African American woman to hold that seat. But as she emphasizes, her legacy is broader than any “firsts.”

With more than 22 years of legal experience, including running her own firm, Baldwin has handled cases from traffic violations to capital murder. She has presided over specialty courts like SOBER Court and Veterans Court, providing vital support to people overcoming addiction and to veterans rebuilding their lives.

Her leadership extends county-wide. Baldwin has served as a local administrative judge for Harris County’s civil and criminal courts, overseeing all 16 criminal courts. A veteran of the U.S. Army Reserves, she is also an adjunct professor at Thurgood Marshall School of Law and an active member of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc.

Representation matters, Baldwin notes, but it is her record that earns trust. “Whoever is on the other side of that bench, they need to see themselves,” she says. “Being a woman, being African-American, being a lesbian—all of those things collectively give me insight. It’s not a crystal ball, but it is intuition.”

Baldwin is also a single mother, and her motivation lies in that part of her identity. “I’d tackle every challenge of this job as long as I can hold my head up and make my daughter proud.”

Her story embodies resilience, but also leadership rooted in service. In an era when representation is still a rarity, Baldwin insists that her presence will one day be commonplace. Until then, she wears the mantle with pride, determination, and the quiet insistence that integrity matters most.

Building National Models

Judge Jason Cox

Judge Jason Cox, presiding over Harris County Probate Court No. 3, oversees both probate and all civil mental-health commitments in the county. His dual docket allows him to see, as he says, “every possible walk of life.”

Cox is particularly proud of creating an outpatient treatment program for mental-health patients, a model so effective it has gained national recognition. “The judge that preceded him tried to do that for 19 years,” Judge Jerry Simoneaux points out. “Judge Cox got it done in two.”

Cox is equally candid about the role identity plays in shaping fairness. “Judges have implicit biases. You have to work to set those aside before you go out there,” he explains. “Going through that exercise allows you to really hear these cases, and come up with a ruling that delivers justice with fairness.”

His commitment to normalizing equality is also personal. In his first year on the bench, Cox married his husband in his courtroom with his staff as witnesses. “I did that not just because I love my husband,” Cox shares, “but also to normalize it for all of them. To show them that a same-sex marriage is just like a regular marriage.”

Cox’s approach illustrates how fairness is not only a principle of the law but also a lived practice, demonstrated daily through both rulings and personal example.

Holding to Fairness

Judge Jim Kovach

Judge Jim Kovach of Harris County Civil Court at Law No. 2 stresses that impartiality requires constant self-awareness. “I do have lawyers who take very anti-LGBTQ+ positions, but they’re always respectful in court,” he says. “It takes a little bit of soul searching to make sure that I’m truthful with myself, and that I’m not going to be biased against them in the case. That would be unfair to their client, and it’s not good for justice.”

Kovach recalls advice from his conservative mother when he was first elected: “Remember, you’re a judge for everybody, not just people on your side of the aisle. You’re also our judge.” Those words became a guiding principle, reminding him that the judiciary cannot afford to appear partisan or exclusionary.

That perspective informs his sense of legacy. “If I can leave the judiciary knowing people trusted me to be fair, then that’s the most important thing I could accomplish,” he reflects. “I think about what legacy I’m leaving, and I want people to say that I was fair and impartial, that I treated everyone with respect, and that I upheld the integrity of the judiciary.”

For Kovach, fairness is not simply about the outcome of a ruling. It is about maintaining the public’s confidence in the system itself. “Part of the job is making sure people trust the system, because if they don’t trust the judiciary, then they don’t trust democracy itself.”

That responsibility can weigh heavily, but he views it as central to his work. “We’re entrusted with people’s lives and livelihoods when they come before us,” he says. “You can’t take that lightly. You have to approach it every day with humility, respect, and the understanding that people need to walk away believing they got a fair hearing.”

Kovach’s focus on fairness, respect, and institutional trust places him firmly alongside his Fab Five colleagues, each of whom demonstrates in their own way that impartial justice and lived authenticity are not at odds. They strengthen one another.

Redefining Dignity in the Courts

Judge Jerry Simoneaux

If Miller is about recognition and Baldwin is about leadership, Judge Jerry Simoneaux is about reform. For Simoneaux, who presides over Harris County Probate Court No. 1, innovation and dignity have been the hallmarks of his service. Long before he wore judicial robes, he was in courtrooms fighting simply for transgender clients to have their names and pronouns respected.

“When I was an attorney representing transgender people in courts, getting judges to acknowledge but enforce the correct pronoun and the correct name for the person that I was representing, just to show basic decency and humanity, was a bit of a struggle,” Simoneaux recalls.

That struggle inspired sweeping reforms. He established a gender-neutral dress code, removed archaic sexist terms—like administratrix—from court filings, and even drafted a congressional resolution urging lawmakers to adopt non-gendered titles. “Female identifying attorneys were saying, ‘Thank you for this. Why are we setting ourselves apart?’” Simoneaux says.

His leadership extends beyond language. Simoneaux created the Texas Probate Law American Inn of Court, a bench-bar association that mentors young attorneys and promotes professionalism. Attendance, he says, “has been higher than anybody has ever seen.” He also spearheaded a new board certification in probate trial law, currently pending before the Texas Supreme Court.

The results are measurable. In Houston Bar Association polls, Simoneaux and Cox consistently rank at the very top among all judges in Harris County. “I was the first LGBTQ person to be appointed in a statewide judicial position,” Simoneaux notes. “It was not because I’m LGBTQ. It was because I’m really damn good at what I do.”

Still, he acknowledges the pressure of visibility. “I know that the minute I mess up, the first thing they’re going to say is, ‘Openly gay judge Jerry Simoneaux did this.’ That’s my fear. So we are very, very careful about how we conduct ourselves because we know something bad can reflect on our community, even if it’s not connected.”

The Fab Five as a Case Study

One of the most compelling parts of the Fab Five’s story is how different their backgrounds are, and how those intersections inform their work. A U.S. Army veteran. A high school band director. A longtime probate attorney who once defended queer families in the days before marriage equality. A judge who oversaw Houston’s largest HIV/AIDS health provider. Together, these wide-ranging experiences illustrate how diversity on the bench strengthens justice for everyone.

And these judges’ consistent recognition bears that out. Whether in statewide honors like Miller’s Trial Judge of the Year award or his top rankings in Houston Bar Association polls, the Fab Five aren’t simply adequate. They’re among the very best judges nationally.

“Judges who cannot be fair because of their own biases don’t need to be judges, period,” Judge Simoneaux emphasizes. That crystalline clarity underscores why their work matters, not only in Houston but throughout the country.

More Than Representation

Representation is not tokenism, it’s perspective. Judges who have lived through marginalization often bring a keener eye for fairness, precisely because they’ve navigated systems not built for them. And they also know the stakes are high.

“I know that the minute I mess up,” Judge Simoneaux reflects, “the first thing they’re going to say is, ‘Openly gay judge Jerry Simoneaux did this.’ That’s my fear. So we are very, very careful about how we conduct ourselves because we know something bad can reflect on our community, even if it’s not connected.”

This pressure, however, has only sharpened their commitment. “When I’m myself, I’m just not going to miss,” Baldwin says.

Why This Matters Now

The L.A. Times recently noted the historic rise of LGBTQ Americans running for office. In Texas, where politics remain extremely polarized, the Fab Five embody what it means to deliver excellence under scrutiny. They remind voters that identity does not disqualify one from public service. If anything, it enriches it.

Next year’s elections will test whether Harris County voters value judicial excellence over political gamesmanship. But the Fab Five have already proven their case. They are not just LGBTQ judges. They are among the best judges Harris County, and America, have ever seen.