Trauma-informed lawyering
When I worked at the U.S. Department of Justice, my client was “the United States,” not individuals experiencing violations of their civil rights. Of course, the whole point of our cases at DOJ was to vindicate individuals’ rights, and I met with many, many such people. I cared deeply about their experiences and tried to be responsive to their questions and concerns. But the reality was that, because those cases impacted hundreds or thousands of people, I could not think of them as my clients and spend enormous time with each person. In other work I have done, I had been in a “neutral” role, rather than serving as an advocate. This role has meant both that the impacted individuals were not clients and also that I could not show too much empathy or prejudge the case. It was extremely difficult having to meet with a victim and not be able to tell them I believe them or I will do everything I can to make sure they find justice.
Now, as a civil rights attorney in private practice, my clients are a whole lot like those individuals impacted by my cases at DOJ. My clients, throughout California and elsewhere, have all experienced enormous trauma: the loss of a loved one to suicide or homicide in a prison; sexual abuse or violence at school, work, or even their home; excessive use of force by police; discrimination in accessing healthcare. Many of them have also experienced “institutional betrayal”: abuse or dismissiveness by the very agencies that should be protecting or vindicating them. These complex cases require not only knowledge and experience, but also genuine sensitivity.
I draw from my experience at DOJ and in other positions to understand and navigate the profound and lasting impact of the violations affecting my clients. But now I work as a private attorney with different obligations, much more independence, and greater availability compared to when I was at DOJ or overseeing hundreds of case involving alleged police misconduct as a police oversight director or sexual abuse and discrimination at a university as a Title IX coordinator. I now (get to) work very closely with my clients, seeing them as collaborators and partners; I make myself available for calls and emails; I pursue their goals; I respond very promptly and clearly; and I try to be sensitive and trauma-informed while also being honest and transparent. I treat my clients with humanity and dignity and bring them into the process so they can feel empowered and so that the case benefits from their knowledge and insights.
I have, from a young age, felt a great deal of empathy for people who have experienced trauma, so this approach to my work comes naturally, even as I work to constantly improve and refine it. My commitment to civil rights and human rights work started very early. I interned in high school with a nonprofit organization assisting people incarcerated in the local jail and in college for the local public defender’s office. My commitment to addressing violence, in particular, is rooted in my own personal experience with the devastating loss of a loved one to violence and the impact on my family of that tragedy and other violence they have experienced. My disdain for discrimination started when, as a young kid, I became passionate about Thurgood Marshall and Brown v. Board.
I am so grateful for my clients. I appreciate the trust they put in me regarding the worst things they have experienced, in what may feel like a hopeless effort to find justice, going up against enormous institutions with endless resources. Far from wanting to be yet another person who disappoints them or compounds their trauma, I want to give hope, be someone they see working hard on their behalf and treating them with dignity and respect. I want to take the load off their shoulders and do the ridiculous juggling and intensive advocacy they need but are not trained and do not have the time or emotional bandwidth to deal with themselves.
