Komisaruk remains unequivocal about her lack of faith in the U.S. judicial system. The question, in fact, makes her laugh. The reasons, she says, are legion: inadequacies in legal education, unfair targeting of disenfranchised ethnic and social groups, overworked defense attorneys, social inequities built into the legal code. Her position within the system, she says, often grates against her conviction to speak out in the face of injustice.

In many ways, Komisaruk sees herself as a sort of undercover agent. “My parole officer used to tease me when I was in law school and say, ‘You’re working within the system now!’ And I used to say, ‘I’m only pretending to work within the system. I’m really operating like a retrovirus, masking my true intentions until it’s time to replicate massively.’”

In light of the current international uncertainty, Komisaruk knows that she’ll be helping to organize war protests, defending activists, and working in an environment increasingly skeptical of opposition.

Faced with this, Komisaruk will have to rely even more heavily on her own convictions and on her interactions with those she helps. “Doing this work, you meet these people who are very amazing and inspiring,” she says. “ It’s very heady stuff.”

Komisaruk will probably also reread a letter she received in prison from Inge Aicher-Scholl, the older sister of Hans and Sophie Scholl, executed members of the White Rose group. In halting English, Aicher-Scholl writes of Komisaruk’s “deep sense of braveness and humanity. . . . If ever there come moments when you are thinking to lose it, be patient and don’t ever forget how important your mexistence and your example are to us all.”