Maya Wiley Biography, Age, Parents, Husband, Career And Net Worth.

Maya Wiley Biography

Maya Wiley born in Washington, D.C., United States is an American civil rights activist, and former board chair of the NYC Civilian Complaint Review Board (CCRB), an independent and impartial police oversight agency.

She is currently the senior vice president for Social Justice at The New School and the Henry Cohen Professor of Urban Policy and Management at The New School’s Milano School of International Affairs, Management, and Urban Policy. Wiley was announced as an MSNBC Legal Analyst on August 27, 2018.

Maya Wiley Age

She was born in Washington, D.C., United States, on 2nd January 1963 or 1964(56 or 57 years) (sources differ) as of 2019.

Maya Wiley Parents

She was born on January 2, 1963, or 1964, to her father, George A. Wiley who was civil rights leader, and her mother, Wretha Frances (Whittle) Wiley, she was Caucasian. She grew up in Washington D.C.

She attended Colombia University in 1989 and earned her Juris Doctorate.
while there, she was the executive editor of the Colombia human rights law review; the president of black law student association; a volunteer at the AIDS Discrimination Law Clinic; a Harlan Fiske Stone Scholar; the recipient of the Jane Marks Murphy Prize in clinical advocacy; and a Paul Robeson Fellow and Charles Evan Hughes Fellow. She also graduated from Dartmouth University with a degree in psychology.

Maya Wiley Husband|Maya Wiley Partner

She is married to Harlan Mandel CEO of Media Development Investment Fund. They have two daughters, Naja Wiley Mandel & Kai Wiley Mandel. One of her daughters is a feminist, working in the footsteps of her mother.

A Photo Of Maya Wiley And Her Husband

Maya Wiley New School

She is currently the Senior Vice President for Social Justice at the New School University.

Maya Wiley Daughters

Maya Wiley Daughters

Maya Wiley Career

She has worked for the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund, the American Civil Liberties Union, and the Open Society Institute. She also founded and served as president of the Center for Social Inclusion, a national policy strategy organization dedicated to dismantling structural racism.
In 2013, she was rumored to be in line for the presidency of the NAACP, but the post went to Cornell William Brooks.
In 2014, she was appointed counsel to the mayor.

Maya Wiley Net Worth

Maya is a famous civil right activist and expert on racial justice and inequality serving for MSNBC as a legal analyst supposedly earns a relishing amount as her salary. Her salary is estimated to be $83,377 Per Year. With a good earning she has successfully gathered net worth around $1 million as of 2019.

Maya Wiley Twitter


Maya Wiley Instagram

Maya Wiley  Was Ready To Hurt Sam Nunberg. Instead, She Helped Him.

I was more than happy to do some damage to an arrogant man known for racially charged language. Then something changed.

It’s hard to say why Sam Nunberg chose to spend hours zigzagging across cable news shows to publicly defy a federal grand jury subpoena this week. He dove, inexplicably, into shark-infested waters and created a feeding frenzy. He didn’t even bother to use a protective cage.

With no counsel from a lawyer, and seemingly no consideration for the consequences, the Nunberg show quickly became voyeurism: a human unraveling on live TV, vowing not to cooperate with a subpoena, and laughing at the prospect of being jailed for contempt of court. After telling MSNBC’s Ari Melber that lawyers working with special investigator Robert Mueller were “trying to set up a perjury case against Roger Stone,” he said he “wasn’t gonna have it.”

As a guest on Melber’s show that that day, I was lined up to take my bite out of Nunberg like everyone else. I’m a lawyer by profession, an academic by vocation and a racial justice crusader by the mission, but I’m no saint. He was spewing his arrogant, privileged contempt for our legal process, and is notorious for racially charged language, so I felt more than happy to do some damage.

Instead, some now call what happened that night a form of free legal counsel. Melber asked Nunberg if his lawyer thought his refusal to comply with a subpoena was a good idea. He’d clearly not spoken with his attorney about it, but added, “I definitely know my father doesn’t like it.”

My immediate response was, “I think your family wants you home for Thanksgiving, and I hope you will testify.” The conversation didn’t end there. Nunberg didn’t seem to believe federal investigators would ask a court to hold him in contempt and put him in jail. He didn’t want to spend “80 hours” looking for subpoenaed emails.

At that point, I looked him in the eye and said slowly, “You’d rather spend possibly a year in jail rather than 80 hours going through your emails?” It appeared to finally dawn on him that jail was a possibility.

For me, it was a special moment, and not just because it helped change Nunberg’s mind — although I’m glad he is cooperating, for now, with the investigation. The real magic was that I shifted from a cold analyst, coming for blood, to real talk. Viewers were nourished by that, not by a pitched battle.

It began with Ari setting a tone of the calm and caring conversation, and even asking Nunberg if he was okay, rather than asking if he was drunk. Another guest, former federal prosecutor Barbara McQuade, clearly and simply laid out both the opportunity to negotiate with Mueller’s team and the consequences of defiance.

Maya Wiley “By the time of my encounter with Nunberg, I was already fatigued from the months of commentary on fine points of the Mueller investigation.”

It’s a critical story that we need to understand, but it’s also one that has pushed coverage of issues like hunger or police reform — topics central to our lives and our democracy — to the side. Just a week earlier, I had been considering whether I should step back from discussions about the investigation to spend more time on other important social issues.

Then came Nunberg: a chatty, childlike adversary, blustery and arrogant and utterly outmatched. Listening through my earpiece as he scoffed at concern about his history of racially offensive words — and undermined any sense of sincerity in his previous apologies — was a gut punch. No amount of condescending comments, ignorant assumptions or statements of outright bigotry ever prepare me for the next one. It’s a fact of life and mine is privileged compared to many, but it’s still a gut punch. I was going to to take him down.

I don’t know exactly when I shifted, but I believe it was when Nunberg mentioned his father’s concern for him. When I was nine years old, I watched my father die, revered him. Civil rights and economic justice organizer, he was funny and friendly and warm and laughed even in the middle of a fight. One of my mother’s favorite stories about him was how he, a college student earned his way through the Army ROTC. He would have to drive through the segregated South to get to the base.

Maya Wiley “Whites Only”

He would insist on stopping at “whites only” restaurants and ask to be served. It was the 1950s. He would enter, smile, sit, and chat. He never got served, my mother added. And yet, white Southern segregationists were kind to him in return and felt bad about refusing him. She used to joke that he could befriend a Klansman if he wanted to.

Hyperbole? Sure. But the point was clear. We can be outspoken activists and be kind. In fact, we must be kind, human, who we truly are.

In that moment, Maya Wiley saw Nunberg as a son, not the son of a bitch. I started talking to him as if he was sitting in my kitchen. What I wouldn’t give to have my father here to be concerned for my wellbeing; to guide me in racially charged and divisive times, when our country has lost so much of the ground that he fought for.

It didn’t mean I felt sorry for Nunberg. I don’t. Some have called what I did “compassionate,” and maybe that’s the word for it. But real human connection? Yes, it was that. And I am reinvigorated by it — by the privilege of being on TV to create a conversation around what matters.

Additionally, the outpouring of emails and messages from strangers from all over the country since then has been humbling and inspiring. In an age of anger and arrogance, we seek compassion and humanity. I have been wrapped up in the warm embrace of my fellow “small d” democrats, who yearn for a nation of people who stand up to ignorance and hate by climbing to higher ground. The soul of our nation is our people and we must find a way to each other or be lost. Viewers showed me that we aren’t completely lost. Not yet.

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