Justice-impacted Illinoisans face life-long barriers to employment, housing and education. “A different kind of lawyer” offers hope.
At 54, Cynthia Cornelius had a packed resume. She’d worked in banking, telecommunications and transitioned into management at the Georgia Public Service Commission. Many in her position would be plotting the next 10 years to retirement. Cornelius had a different horizon in mind: law school.
“I went through all of those reasons why it was a crazy idea,” Cornelius said. “But it just wouldn’t leave me. And so I was like okay, if this is really what I’m supposed to do then somehow the universe is gonna have to make a way for it.”
Now, 17 years later, Cornelius is a graduate of Loyola University Chicago School of Law and a Senior Attorney at Cabrini Green Legal Aid (CGLA), a faith-based organization that provides free legal representation to low-income Chicagoans. Her most recent accomplishment, receiving the Chicago Bar Association’s 2025 Thomas H. Morsch Public Service Award, commemorates the dedication to public service that led her to embark on a new career in her sixth decade.
As a legal aid lawyer, Cornelius works in criminal records relief to mitigate “collateral consequences,” legal barriers that keep people with criminal charges from accessing stable housing and employment, as well as other opportunities.
For those who can’t afford to hire attorneys, lawyers like Cornelius are their only hope for navigating a convoluted legal system. They are also in short supply. According to a report from the American Bar Association, there are only about 4.4 legal aid lawyers per 10,000 people living below the poverty line in Illinois.
For many aspiring attorneys, going into legal aid work is a tough sell. It often involves case overload and burnout from working with people in crisis, all for roughly half of the average salary of lawyers nationwide. For Cornelius, there was “never a question” about practicing anything but public interest law.
As her own children had encounters with law enforcement, Cornelius knew first-hand how opaque the legal system can be. “I was just really frustrated,” she said. “We would hire attorneys, but attorneys wouldn’t explain what was going on. The system is so complicated.”
When she read the description of CGLA, Cornelius saw the opportunity to become the lawyer she had needed in those crisis moments.
“The vision of CGLA at the time was ‘our clients leave us stronger than when they came to us,’” Cornelius said, describing the clinic’s approach to serving the “whole person” to address a client’s legal needs and personal life pressures. “That sounds like a place I’d like to be.”
First joining CGLA as a help desk volunteer, Cornelius learned the process by which criminal records can be sealed (hidden) or expunged (erased). In Illinois, over 3 million people have criminal records while about 921,000 are eligible for sealing relief.
Removing these records from the view of employers and occupational licensing boards can mean the difference between poverty – even homelessness – and financial independence. The process, however, can be onerous, and many people struggle to understand their options for records relief. Cornelius approaches her clients with the goal of empowerment through education.
“I’m going to help you understand the law,” she said. “I’ll break it down in however many ways I need to for you to understand these are your options, so that you have options.”
When LaTonya Anderson came to CGLA she already had over 15 years of experience as a certified nursing assistant. She was ready to become a licensed practical nurse, a position that would double her income and provide stability for her family.
A single confrontation with police from decades before shattered those dreams.
Anderson, about 20 at the time, watched with her newborn as her brother was arrested. An officer moved on her and Anderson instinctively reacted to protect her baby. She pleaded guilty to aggravated assault of an officer of the peace, wanting to return home to her son.
The confrontation left Anderson with a forcible felony charge that, per a 2011 state law, barred her from attaining any health care license for life. Illinois has some of the most onerous occupational licensing burdens of any state, which particularly burden those with criminal records.
Cornelius found the case and, though it looked like a lost cause, noticed a nuance in the language of Anderson’s charge that offered an exception.
“I received a call, and on the other end was an angel,” said Anderson, describing how Cynthia came to her with an eleventh hour solution. She has now worked as a licensed practical nurse for eight years.
“It’s been life changing,” said Anderson, who has been able to get off of public assistance and Section 8 housing. “Everything I’ve ever had a desire for, I’m able to do it now.”
With Cornelius at her side, Anderson became an advocate for others in her position. Taking the issue to Springfield, they were part of a coalition that successfully advocated for Senate Bill 42 in 2016. This legislation now provides pathways for people with past felony convictions to obtain a professional health care license through petition, taking the individual’s full story into account.
Thousands of people in Illinois are currently waiting on record relief petitions. Many others don’t know where to even begin. To meet their needs more aids are needed who meet Cornelius’ challenge to be “a different type of lawyer,” one who educates clients to reclaim autonomy over the legal system. “For me it’s just joyful to be able to do that and for people to say ‘thank you,’” she said. “To say, ‘now I understand.’”
Cornelius approaches her clients with the goal of empowerment through education. “I’m going to help you understand the law,” she said. “I’ll break it down in however many ways I need to for you to understand these are your options, so that you have options.”
Working next to Cynthia has been the honor a a lifetime. More than a legal aid attorney helping clients, more than a Help Desk Hero…she’s kind!