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Pretender

I'm not just a lawyer.  I'm a criminal defense lawyer.  To make matters worse, I'm a public defender.  Sometimes our clients call us pretenders, dump trucks, fake lawyers (as opposed to real lawyers or street lawyers).

After 14 years in this line of work, I've learned to stop being offended.  I've learned to see the big picture and appreciate the privilege of it all.  

Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to be somebody's hero.  I often imagined myself standing in front of a vulnerable person holding a shield aloft to protect them from some overwhelming force.  Before I lost interest in Barbie dolls and Menudo, I knew that I wanted to spend my life defending people's rights.  That's what I prayed for.  That's what I worked for.  That's what I sacrificed for.

As I child I was never great with making specific requests to God, and I guess that's how I ended up with my mixed bag of blessings.  Let's be clear.  How many people are fortunate enough to meet the goals they set for themselves when they're children?  But how many people become lawyers only to be treated with the kind of contempt reserved for Quasimodo for less than glamorous pay?  

I am the result of the Sixth Amendment, but clients, some judges, and the general public view us as something between a nuisance and that white stuff that gathers in the corner of your mouth when you become dehydrated.  Exactly.

I can actually remember hearing a former client asking a conflict attorney if she was a pubic defender or a lawyer.  She responded, "Both are lawyers."  The former client says, "Naw, I mean are you a real lawyer, a street lawyer, a paid lawyer.  Public defenders ain't that."

I didn't get angry.  I got annoyed.  Perhaps it was the strain of the day, or maybe I was feeling particularly vituperative.  It took everything in my power not to read that woman up and down like Fifty Shades of Grey.  (I have not read the much celebrated S&M sexfest, but my friends who have indicate the book was great reading.)  Instead, I did some tai chi breathing and remembered the job of the public defender.

The fringe benefits do not include "beloved by the uninformed public."  It's not there.  No matter how professional and competent we are, we suffer from the stereotype.  Undeserved, yes?  But if you've been the member of a minority group, then you recognize that the action of one often results in an entire group being painted with a broad brush.  

How do we get away from it?  I'm not sure if that's really possible.  So how do you do the job day in and day out and not loose your mind because no one respects what you do?  Let's keep it real.  The clients don't respect us.  The courts see us as an encumbrance, and the prosecutors take everything personally.   We're just here to plead people guilty, right?

Wrong.  

Live in your purpose on purpose.  It is the job of a public defender to fall completely and unapologetically in love with the constitutional rights if her client.  It's the kind of love that makes you grit your teeth and cry havoc when someone tries to violate it.  Mr. Green is nowhere in this relationship.  But don't get it twisted.  This love isn't completely altruistic.  It's sort of selfish.  Really.  Because the same rights extended to our clients are also extended to us.  The rights are the same, and that's what makes us the same.  Those same rights belong to your jurors, the judge, and the prosecutor.

So in a way, we're kind of heroic.  Guardians of the Galaxy heroic.


Live in your purpose on purpose.
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