Before she was a nationally recognized Mitigation Specialist and founder of Heart of Justice and Mitigation University, my mentor, Victoria Rusk was a broadcast journalist, honing the skills that would later define her work. Distilling chaos into clarity, asking the questions others avoided, and listening closely for what wasn’t said.
For more than two decades, she has carried those tools into the world of criminal defense mitigation, building a practice rooted in fearless investigation, radical empathy, and storytelling that restores humanity to people too often reduced to their worst moments. Through her book The Handbook of Mitigation, her training of new advocates, and her unwavering commitment to bridging the gap between legal professionals and families, Victoria has become a leading voice for justice reform, showing that every case is more than a charge; it’s a human story.
I caught up with Victoria in June; this Q&A is the fruition.
In three sentences, tell us what the world should know about Victoria Rusk.
My belief is the mirror will always appear when someone is truly seen and heard, allowing them to find their own path to healing and justice. This work is creating the space for honoring my own humanity. Victoria Rusk is not afraid of any criminal case.
How did your background as a broadcast journalist shape your journey into mitigation and ultimately founding Heart of Justice and Mitigation University?
Journalism shaped my work in mitigation in ways I couldn’t have predicted at the time. That was like 20 years ago! Journalism trained me in the economy of words—how to distill complex, often chaotic situations into a clear narrative that others can understand. I learned to identify the most important facts first, much like crafting the lead of a news story, and then broaden the scope to provide the context that makes those facts matter.
In both journalism and mitigation, the heart of the work is writing, researching and investigation. Mitigation is about discerning what’s true, what’s relevant, and what the audience, whether it’s a jury or the judge, needs to know.
As a journalist, I learned ask questions others might avoid, and listen between the lines for what’s NOT said. Those same skills are essential when uncovering the life history of someone accused of a crime.
Journalism also taught me neutrality without detachment—the ability to understand multiple perspectives and present them in a way that is both fair and compelling. In mitigation, that means holding the humanity of the accused at the forefront, while presenting their story with clarity and integrity.
What exactly does a mitigation specialist do, and why is it so critical in both capital and non-capital cases?
A mitigation specialist is someone who gathers the full story of a person’s life so that the court can see more than just the charge in front of them. We investigate layers of history—childhood experiences, health challenges, trauma, poverty, systemic inequities, and moments of resilience—that have shaped the person’s life path.
In both capital and non-capital cases, this work is critical because the legal system often sees people in snapshots—one moment in time—without the context that explains how they got there. Mitigation builds that context, so decision-makers can respond with all the information. Since 2011, this field has grown from being primarily used in death penalty defense to becoming an essential part of many serious felony cases. This shift reflects a deeper truth: when we slow down and truly see a person’s humanity, we can craft outcomes that protect communities while also giving people a real second chance.
Mitigation is about understanding the *why* behind actions and honoring the needs—for safety, belonging, dignity, and hope—on all sides. In that sense, it’s a process of reclaiming humanity for everyone who touches a case: the accused, the victims, the families, and even the legal professionals involved.
What inspired you to write The Handbook of Mitigation, and what gap did you aim to fill with it?
I wrote The Handbook of Mitigation because the pandemic gave me the time and space. Most people accused of a crime don’t get a team—they get one attorney, often overworked and carrying dozens of cases. Meanwhile, the people who love them most are standing on the outside, desperate for justice but unsure who to trust. I kept meeting families who had deep misunderstandings and real fear around the system. I felt sad and anger around being misunderstood. I felt hopeless in my early years of a mitigation specialist. I think that inspired me to write it.
This book was my way of building a bridge. It explains, in plain language, how families and friends can step into the process, not as bystanders, but as partners in uncovering the full human story of the accused person’s life. It shows them how to help create a “team” that works alongside the attorney to present context, truth, and humanity. The gap between legal professionals and loved ones is still there, but this book closes it case by case.
What stories or moments in your career have reinforced your belief in the transformative power of fair sentencing and human-centered advocacy?
There are several powerful moments in mitigation investigation and trial prep!
In one case, the person on trial had grown up in an environment marked by violence and abuse—facts that were largely invisible to the outside world. I spent 60 hours alone with mom. I found step-dad in another city and he was very open, honest and regretful about his marriage with mom. Over time, I built enough trust with step-dad. He trust me enough to drive him to meet the attorney and then later bring the child psychologist to his home.
Step-dad was not nice in his younger years. When he told the truth in court, it not only gave the jury the full context of the accused’s life, it also freed him from the burden of regret. It feed the client from the burden of denial he’d carried for decades.
That moment reinforced my belief that when people are willing to share their unvarnished truth, storytelling becomes a force that can shift perspectives, open hearts, and lead to fairer outcomes.
They jury got the whole story and the real why someone could shoot and kill two people. There was never a question of who done it but this jury knew the difference between the crime and the person.
On the stand, the step-dad answered all the questions and then on his own apologized to the mom sitting in the audience. She was shocked! Her husband was shocked! They had been divorced for 18 years and hadn’t see him because he ran away to another town.
The mom told me that she never expected to see him again. I appreciated the man doing the most honorable thing– validating some of the real reasons her son/his ex-step-child who lived with anxiety and anger.
It was the moment the jury could see the dots connect from childhood abuse to adult anxiety symptoms.
What advice would you give someone looking to become a mitigation specialist, especially someone passionate about justice but unsure how to start?
If you feel called to become a mitigation specialist, begin from the inside out. This work is about more than gathering records or interviewing witnesses—it’s about learning to see people, systems, and harm with clarity and compassion.
Mitigation requires skill, yes—but the heart of it is how you show up for others. Start by reshaping how you see the world.
My advice is about clarity which starts with anti-racism training. It is monumental. It is not a one-time weekend seminar. It is a multi-layer education and re-education. I recommend The People’s Institute for Survival and Beyond, whose Undoing Racism workshops. Their mission is to understand how racism was built, how it operates today, and how we can dismantle it through history, leadership, and accountable community networks.
That kind of analysis changes you—it gives you the filter you need to see justice and fairness more clearly. I went 3 times! I need to go again because it has been a couple years! When you’ve done that inner work, you approach every case differently. You’re able to hold people accountable while still protecting their dignity. You see that harm often grows from unmet needs—for safety, belonging, and hope—and that meeting those needs can open the door to transformation.
What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever Googled in the name of mitigation work—and did it end up in court?
Mmm… I don’t really like this question because I don’t like to label anything weird. Because it is just unique experience and we are all different. And who am I to judge!?
One of the darker things I’ve ever had to research was a subculture around edge play—a kink. Sex crimes are highly misunderstood that’s why I did that webinar in 2023. This kink was new to me– involving intense, sometimes risky, psychological and physical experiences that many people find difficult to talk about openly. It was uncomfortable, even unsettling, but understanding it was essential to seeing the full truth of the person’s mental health.
I trust that we need to give the court the full context—the tangled trauma, the coping strategies, and the complexity behind the actions. Sex is not about sex. It is about power. When you choose to dig into places like this with curiosity and empathy, you bring light to what would otherwise be feared. Ugh humans. In mitigation, this kind of fearless investigation is how you humanize someone. It’s uncomfortable for most. I get it but that is why we stay with the high vibrating emotions like curiosity, compassion and appreciation.
Then help the attorneys get over themselves.
Catch up with Victoria on LinkedIn or at her Website, Heart of Justice.
