Dora Ko is a nationally accredited mediator, parenting coordinator, and Family Dispute Resolution Practitioner with over 15 years’ family law experience. From 2022 to 2025, she served as a Judicial Registrar of the Federal Circuit and Family Court of Australia, managing complex parenting and property matters and conducting court-based mediations. Now in private practice at Dora Ko Mediations, Dora specialises in culturally sensitive, trauma-informed dispute resolution, drawing on her legal expertise and fluency in Mandarin and Cantonese and conversational Japanese to assist families across Australia in achieving practical, lasting agreements.
“Cultural awareness isn’t just about language—it’s about truly understanding how people experience conflict, family, and resolution.”
When Dora Ko was nine years old, she left behind the bustling streets of Hong Kong—and the small measure of celebrity she’d known there as a child actress—for suburban Australia.
“All the kids in my school knew me,” she remembers. “I was outspoken… I’d be voted student leader just because they saw me on TV. But when I came to Australia, it was very different. I looked different. I couldn’t speak the language. The food I had in my lunchboxes was weird or different. I couldn’t do the monkey bars because that’s not what we played in Hong Kong. I had a really good trim down of my ego at the age of nine.”
Her parents had deliberately chosen a school with few other Asian students. “They wanted me to integrate rather than go somewhere with a bigger Asian population. It was hard, but it made me driven to assimilate—to get to know what people do, to sound like everyone. I think I’m fortunate for that, because I sound like I’m Australian, but I also maintained my language at home.”
Life in Japan – Another Kind of Foreign
Before starting university, Dora won a scholarship to spend a year in Japan, living with host families and attending high school. “It was almost like I lived another life where I was a foreigner again—but this time I looked like everyone else. I was Asian, … and yet I was different.”
That year brought joy and hardship. One homestay placed her with a host she now realises was emotionally abusive. “For the first time, I understood what it feels like when home is meant to be your safe space—but it’s not. I had nowhere else to go.”
The experience taught her what it’s like to live in constant tension, and how isolation can strip away your confidence. “Looking back now, it was a very important moment for me—probably in terms of understanding domestic violence. I know what it feels like to go home and there’s a perpetrator there. You can’t relax. You’re always on edge.”
Eventually, a friend’s family took her in. “I’m forever indebted to them. They hadn’t planned to have a homestay, but they saw what was happening. That changed my entire overseas exchange experience for me.”
Choosing Law—With a Side of Psychology
Back in Australia, Dora enrolled in a double degree in law and psychology. “If I’m honest, my passion was probably more in psychology… but I didn’t want to follow what my parents wanted—health sciences. I had the marks for law, and I liked debating more than anything.”
She got her start in a mid-tier Brisbane firm—first in the mail room, then as a participant in their clerkship program , where she discovered family law. “I was amazed watching Evette Clark, a senior associate. She was firm but kind, guiding clients through such difficult situations. I realised I am a people’s person. That’s what drew me in.”
From there came a traineeship which was a baptism of fire in legal aid work. “At one point I had 80 files as a first-year lawyer. It was sink or swim. I learned so much, but it wasn’t sustainable.”
She moved into a respected family law firm handling complex, high-net-worth, and international cases—including her first matter for a Chinese-speaking client, a jurisdictional dispute that went to trial. “I didn’t know what I was doing at first, but I was supported by great colleagues and barristers. That case opened my eyes to the value of being able to bridge legal and cultural worlds.”
Choosing Law—With a Side of Psychology
Back in Australia, Dora enrolled in a double degree in law and psychology. “If I’m honest, my passion was probably more in psychology… but I didn’t want to follow what my parents wanted—health sciences. I had the marks for law, and I liked debating more than anything.”
She got her start in a mid-tier Brisbane firm—first in the mail room, then as a participant in their clerkship program , where she discovered family law. “I was amazed watching Evette Clark, a senior associate. She was firm but kind, guiding clients through such difficult situations. I realised I am a people’s person. That’s what drew me in.”
From there came a traineeship which was a baptism of fire in legal aid work. “At one point I had 80 files as a first-year lawyer. It was sink or swim. I learned so much, but it wasn’t sustainable.”
She moved into a respected family law firm handling complex, high-net-worth, and international cases—including her first matter for a Chinese-speaking client, a jurisdictional dispute that went to trial. “I didn’t know what I was doing at first, but I was supported by great colleagues and barristers. That case opened my eyes to the value of being able to bridge legal and cultural worlds.”
Finding the Missing Demographic
Volunteering with Women’s Legal Service Queensland deepened Dora’s perspective. “We talk about the ‘missing middle’—people who can’t afford representation but don’t qualify for legal aid. But I realised there’s another missing demographic: culturally diverse people. You don’t see them in the court system in numbers proportionate to our population. There’s a barrier—language, trust, cultural norms—that keeps them from accessing legal help.”
Her language skills—fluent in Mandarin and Cantonese and conversational Japanese —meant she could often connect quickly with clients who might otherwise struggle to engage. But she also saw how quickly misinformation spread in tight-knit communities.
She tells of two Chinese women she met as a duty lawyer. The first had called police during a domestic incident, exaggerating her account because “I didn’t think the police would do anything… that’s what would happen in China.”
When the police issued a protection notice and ousted her husband from the home, she wanted it withdrawn.
The second woman was in serious danger from a violent spouse but decided she wanted to withdraw her own application after speaking to the first woman in the waiting The second woman was in serious danger from a violent spouse but decided she wanted to withdraw her own application after speaking to the first woman in the waiting room. “That really highlighted to me how important it is that we try to help. I had to convince her that her situation was very different—that she needed protection. If I didn’t speak her language, if I didn’t understand the cultural lens, I might not have been able to get through to her.”
The Power of Cultural Context
Dora is quick to point out that cultural norms can influence everything from the instructions a client gives to how their case is perceived.
She recalls a Middle Eastern woman who came to her visibly injured. “She told me, ‘I will be disowning my family name… my father will have someone kill me if I did that.’ She wasn’t exaggerating. My usual advice—leave, safety plan, go to police—wasn’t workable. I had to think differently about how to keep her safe.”
In another case, a Chinese mother was accused of neglect because her seven-year-old’s teeth were decayed. “On the face of it, it looked bad. But the real reason was her parents—qualified Chinese medicine doctors—had told her to give honey water and vitamin C instead of plain water, believing it would boost immunity. It wasn’t about neglect—it was cultural practice. My job was to explain that to the court and show she was taking steps to address it.”
Even parenting arrangements can be misunderstood. “Our system prioritises time with both parents. But for some migrant families, sacrificing time and hard earned money to send children to tutoring or extracurriculars is seen as the best parenting—investing in their future. Without that lens, it’s easy for it to be painted as disinterest.”
Practical Cultural Competence
For Dora, cultural competence means more than empathy—it’s about advocacy. “If there are facts of a matter which may be peculiar or different to what one would normally expect,, make sure that is highlighted in the court material filed with sufficient context to assist the presiding judicial officer to give due consideration to those matters.”
She also believes mediation can be a better fit for culturally complex cases. “Court processes—and even the social science research they rely on—are often based on Western norms. In mediation, you can talk about values and priorities, and structure arrangements that reflect them.”
Facing Prejudice in the Profession
Throughout her career in family law, Dora has brought diversity to her role as an advocate—but it is not without challenges.
She recalls an incident from around nine years ago that she still remembers in vivid detail. The case was an urgent matter.
The court list was full, and by the afternoon it had become clear that another matter was going to take priority. Negotiations were tense; the other side’s barrister had been pressing their client’s position throughout the day.
Eventually, a compromise was reached for interim orders until the matter could be determined by the court on a further interim basis. It was then, in the liminal space outside the courtroom—an area where both clients and lawyers mingled—that the moment happened.
“He hadn’t really spoken to me all day,” she says. “We had counsel on both sides, so most of the exchanges were between the barristers. I was there, listening, taking notes. And then, out of nowhere, he waves a bit of paper of the draft interim orders, looks around, and says just loudly enough, ‘Where’s that little Chinese girl?’”
The words landed with a force that took her breath away. “It was loud enough for my client, his client, and everyone else to hear. It was so public. I froze. I didn’t know how to react.”
In the moment, she chose silence. She chose to act as though she did not hear the remark. But in reality, it lodged deep. “From then on, every time I went to court, I remembered it. It became a sort of background hum—a reminder that I was different.”
For Dora, the comment was professionally diminishing. “It’s not just about that one comment. It’s about how something like that stays with you, how it shapes your sense of belonging in a professional space.”
Despite those experiences, Dora continued to work to develop her skills as a family lawyer. Several years later, she was appointed to and worked at the very place where she was once made to feel very small – as a Judicial Registrar.
“Each family is different. Culture isn’t static. We need to keep asking, keep learning, and keep making space for people to tell us what matters to them.”
Advice for Practitioners
Dora offers the follow advice for lawyers assisting clients who are of diverse cultural backgrounds:
A Mission to Bridge the Gap
Dora has always strived to provide excellent services to clients. 15 years on, she is becoming ever more passionate about doing more to further diversity, equity and inclusion “I feel like this is something I can really help bridge. It’s about recognising the barriers, asking the right questions, and making sure our processes don’t unintentionally exclude people from justice.”
Recently, she received an email from a family lawyer colleague which said, “I’m genuinely inspired. It’s empowering to see a woman of Asian heritage excel so remarkably in her career.” While Dora is extremely touched by those kind words, she longs to see a day where one’s achievements need not be distinguished due to that person’s gender or racial background.
