On a quiet morning in Washington, D.C., Attorney Melva Harris-Rozier entered the chamber of the United States Supreme Court and took her place among members of the Bar. Surrounded by marble columns and the weight of precedent, the moment represented both personal achievement and institutional legacy. The path to that chamber began on Kings Road.For Rozier, Class of 1993,the then Edward WatersCollege was not incidental. It was deliberate. “I had the GPA. I could have gone elsewhere,” she said. “Edward Waters was intentional.” She graduated magna cum laude with dual majors in political science and psychology while distinguishing herself as a Coca-Cola All-American Scholar, a full scholarship softball athlete, Miss Alpha Kappa Alpha 1992, and Miss Homecoming 1993. Raised in Jacksonville after being born in St. Mary’s, Georgia, she approached her education with discipline and purpose.
Two professors would permanently shape her trajectory: Dr. Cinque Hightower and Dr. Ezzy O’Gueri. Their influence would prove formative, particularly during her military service overseas.
While serving as a paralegal in the United States Army’s Judge Advocate General’s Corps and stationed in Egypt, Rozier wrote to Dr. O’Gueri requesting a letter of recommendation to attend Florida Coastal School of Law. His response was firm. He declined, advising her to pursue an institution of greater academic rigor and assuring her that he would support her fully when she did. “I cried for a week,” she recalled, “but I respected him too much to disregard his advice.” She enrolled at Nova Southeastern University’s Shepard Broad College of Law and graduated with honors in 2003. That same year, Florida Coastal failed to receive accreditation, and several graduates were unable to sit for the bar examination. “If I had not followed his direction,” she said, “I would not be a lawyer today.” The lesson was clear: mentorship requires candor, and leadership demands accountability.
Her time stationed in Egypt further clarified her professional purpose. Confronting systems in which women were often marginalized shifted her ambition from aspiration to obligation. “It moved from something I wanted to do to something I was compelled to do,” she said. After law school, she practiced real estate and civil litigation before dedicating her career to Legal Aid society of Palm Beach county, Inc. She now represents families facing foreclosure and eviction and assists veterans seeking disability benefits. “We may not resolve every systemic issue,” she noted, “but immediate relief can preserve dignity. That matters.”
In 2026, Rozier was admitted to practice before the Supreme Court of the United States through The Palm Beach County Sheree Davis Cunningham Black Women Lawyers Association. The process required sponsorship, character review, and federal clearance. Seeing Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson seated on the bench carried particular significance. “It affirms that I belong,” Rozier said. “And that visibility matters.” Although argument before the Court may be unlikely, admission to the bar reflects professional standing, preparedness, and earned credibility.
Rozier often credits her parents, loved ones and Edward Waters with giving her what she calls “a little growl.” Resources were limited, but expectations were not. She learned resourcefulness through interlibrary loans, cultivated academic networks, and competed through discipline rather than circumstance. “You might have had more,” she said, “but you could not outwork me.” That ethic carried her through military distinction, law school honors, and sustained public service. Her message to current students is direct: Edward Waters is not a limitation. It is leverage.
Despite her professional accomplishments, Rozier identifies her most meaningful role as mother. Her daughters, whom she calls her legacies, Shia and Jayde Rozier. Whom already engaged in advocacy and community service. “They do not operate from fear,” she said. “They build their own path.”
From Kings Road to the highest court in the nation, Rozier’s journey is neither accidental nor ornamental. It is the product of disciplined preparation, principled mentorship, and sustained effort. Edward Waters did not simply educate her. It fortified her. The distance between campus and the Supreme Court was measured not in geography, but in grit, discernment, and the consistent decision to rise.