Leslie Nino-Piro

An Open Letter to Leslie Nino-Piro, Chief General Counsel, Nevada Attorney General’s Office

Ms. Nino-Piro,

Yesterday, I appeared before the Nevada Public Records Task Force to speak about a subject that has consumed the better part of the last two years of my life: the failure of Nevada’s public records system and the failure of Nevada’s institutions to protect the rights of crime victims. Much of my testimony centered on the conduct of the Nevada Attorney General’s Office, an agency that has played a significant role in my experience and one that has consistently refused to engage with me in any meaningful way despite repeated efforts on my part.

As I delivered those remarks, I found myself confronted with a striking and deeply disappointing reality. Seated directly in front of me was the Chief General Counsel of the Nevada Attorney General’s Office, a representative of the very institution whose actions I was describing. Yet throughout my testimony, you appeared far more interested in your phone than in the citizen standing before you. While I spoke about years of unanswered questions, denied access, bureaucratic obstruction, and the treatment I received as a crime victim, you never once afforded me the basic courtesy of your attention. You did not engage with my comments. You did not acknowledge my presence. You did not even appear willing to listen.

Ordinarily, I would not write an open letter over a matter of etiquette. Public officials are not required to agree with me, sympathize with me, or even like me. They are, however, entrusted with responsibilities that extend beyond personal feelings and institutional loyalties. When a citizen appears before a public body to discuss the conduct of state government, particularly after spending years attempting unsuccessfully to obtain answers from that government, the least that citizen should expect is the dignity of being heard.

What made your conduct particularly troubling was the context in which it occurred. I was not addressing an abstract policy dispute or an academic disagreement over statutory interpretation. I was speaking about my own experience as a victim of a reported sexual assault and about my subsequent efforts to understand how decisions affecting my case had been made. Those efforts led me into Nevada’s public records process, where I encountered delay after delay, excuse after excuse, and obstacle after obstacle. The records I ultimately obtained revealed information that should never have required years of persistence to uncover. They also exposed significant questions about the conduct of public officials and agencies that, to this day, remain unanswered.

Throughout this process, the Attorney General’s Office has never meaningfully spoken with me. Despite two years of requests, filings, correspondence, and public advocacy, no one from your office has sat down with me to discuss my concerns. No one has attempted to explain the actions that were taken. No one has attempted to address the discrepancies I uncovered. No one has demonstrated any interest in understanding why a citizen would devote years of her life to pursuing these issues. Instead, I have encountered silence, procedural maneuvering, and institutional defensiveness at virtually every turn.

That history is precisely what made your behavior yesterday so significant. It was not merely a matter of one public official checking a phone during a meeting. It was a visible manifestation of the indifference I have experienced from the Attorney General’s Office since the day I began seeking answers. The image of the state’s chief legal counsel staring down at a screen while a citizen described years of frustration, exclusion, and institutional failure captured, in a single moment, the very problem I had come to discuss.

The Attorney General’s Office frequently speaks about victims’ rights. Nevada’s voters adopted Marsy’s Law through Article 1, Section 8A of the Nevada Constitution in order to ensure that crime victims are treated with fairness, dignity, and respect throughout the criminal justice process. The Crime Victims’ Bill of Rights was intended to reinforce those principles and to guarantee that victims would not be treated as afterthoughts by the institutions charged with serving them. Those protections were created because victims have historically been marginalized, ignored, and excluded from processes that profoundly affect their lives.

Rights, however, are not measured by the language contained in constitutional amendments, statutes, brochures, or agency websites. They are measured by conduct. They are measured by whether public officials treat victims as human beings whose experiences matter. They are measured by whether institutions are willing to listen when those institutions are accused of making mistakes. They are measured by whether government officials possess the humility to acknowledge criticism rather than retreat behind titles, procedures, and authority.

Yesterday, I witnessed none of those things.

What I witnessed instead was a public official who appeared unwilling to grant even the most basic acknowledgment to a citizen discussing the conduct of her office. That may seem insignificant to those who have never spent years trying to be heard. It is not insignificant to those of us who have. Respect is communicated through actions. Listening is an action. Paying attention is an action. Looking someone in the eye while they speak is an action. When those actions are absent, the message received is unmistakable.

The most frustrating aspect of the experience is that it was entirely unnecessary. No one expected you to agree with my testimony. No one expected you to concede wrongdoing. No one expected you to stand up and apologize on behalf of the Attorney General’s Office. What many people would reasonably expect, however, is that the chief legal officer present would demonstrate enough professionalism and respect to listen when a citizen speaks about the actions of her agency.

Instead, your conduct reinforced the very concerns I came to the meeting to raise. It reinforced the perception that accountability is something expected of citizens but not of institutions. It reinforced the perception that victims are welcome to speak so long as no one in power is required to truly hear them. Most importantly, it reinforced the perception that the Attorney General’s Office remains more comfortable managing criticism than confronting it.

For two years, I have attempted to obtain answers. For two years, I have attempted to engage with the institutions responsible for protecting the rights of Nevada citizens. For two years, I have been met with resistance, silence, and avoidance. Yesterday’s events did not create that perception; they confirmed it.

The unfortunate reality is that I will likely remember your refusal to engage far longer than I will remember any statement issued by your office. In a single moment, you provided a visual demonstration of the very culture I had spent my testimony describing. If the Attorney General’s Office wishes to understand why public trust erodes, why victims lose faith in institutions, and why citizens increasingly believe government is indifferent to their concerns, it need only reflect upon that image.

I stood before a public body and spoke about the failures of state government. Seated directly before me was a senior representative of that government. After two years of seeking to be heard, I was met not with engagement, curiosity, disagreement, or even acknowledgment, but with indifference.

No constitutional amendment, statutory provision, public relations campaign, or policy statement can compensate for that.

Sincerely,

Kathleen Light