As a legal advisor and advocate, we lawyers fill a critical role in the lives of our clients and indeed all of those with whom we come in contact. I still remember the first time I was addressed as “Counselor” by a senior lawyer. I startled me then and still startles me now. It is not just a title, it’s a description of what we do and the difference we make in people’s lives.
But it does have a cost.
We are aware of the role of secondary trauma, aka “compassion fatigue” in a lawyer’s life. That from chronically dealing with direct trauma victims. Oh, the spirit of “I can take anything, bring it on” still lives on, but the effects of secondary trauma are there. You can admit them, you can deny them, but they are still there. The burdensome effects get worse and worse as we take more and more on ourselves.
Prosecutors deal with crime victims. We deal with juvenile victims of crimes, who are too young to realize that it’s sometimes a very dirty world. The young ones often believe that their bad experiences are their fault, a sort of vast justice for something they must have done. Defense counsel must give a “zealous defense” to the perpetrators and then must endure, privately, the effects of encountering a little victim. Personal injury lawyers – on both sides of the cases – deal with the grievously injured. They must keep a straight face as victims recount the details of direct trauma and the continuing effects of them and their families. For that matter, every lawyer who deals with real people faces with what is, to them, terribly traumatic events. The lawyer cannot help but having the client’s trauma “rub off” on the lawyer. Often, after months or years or decades of helping or wounded people, a lawyer with a shred of humanity in them will develop severe pain from another’s trauma and a genuine case of post trauma stress disorder (PTSD) will result.
If a lawyer has started out with PTSD, perhaps as an abused child or a combat veteran, the secondary trauma brings trouble on all the quicker.
For the client, for the lay person, talking to a caring lawyer – “getting it out” – can be a relief and a start to personal healing. The lawyer can be skilled at diminishing some of the crushing burden of the client’s prison of trauma. Often, the lawyer is the first professional to notice – and care – that what the client has refused to believe is a “big deal” really is a “big deal.” The lawyer may be the first one to give the client permission to experience their hurt and deal with it.
Trauma is almost a physical manifestation. It doesn’t just go “poof” and vanish magically. Where does that trauma go?
Often, it goes right to the lawyer. Then, it the LAWYER who experiences that
wakefulness that comes at 3 AM, where the lawyer is the one who counts the
holes in the ceiling tile in their bedroom.
It’s the lawyer who has unbidden anxiety and depression. It’s the lawyer who starts to hide a little
booze in their desks. (Oh, use vodka –
it has less odor!) It’s the lawyer who
feels that they need to always be guarded in their environment. PTSD is real, no matter how you get it.
The lawyer is no more free and available to take on the burden of the client's experiences and sins than the next person, but it is our JOB to do so.
Sins? Well, yes. You see, the lawyer has become the new “sin-eater” in our society.
The practice of “sin-eating” is as old as these hills and valleys of ours. In its original form, “sin-eating” was a mixed Christian-pagan practice brought to Appalachia from the British Isles (mainly Wales and Scotland) in the 18th and 19th centuries. It endured actually and secretly into the 20th century and still endures a little bit even in the 21st century. We lawyers do it today, even though we call it something different.
Sin-eating starts with the obvious truth that humans are not perfect and, from time to time, they sin. To a “believer” in one or more Deities[1], to accumulate sin is to “earn” some sort of negative reward after your death. That negative reward is usually something physically punishing and really bad. However, in most religious practices, a human can earn a reprieve by practicing good works and faith. All it takes is the time to do good works and be faithful.
Everyone can change their negative behaviors. According to Jacob Marley’s Ghost, Scrooge has no idea of "the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself? It was full as heavy and as long as this, seven Christmas Eves ago. You have laboured on it, since. It is a ponderous chain!" Even Scrooge has a chance: “You have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate. A chance and hope of my procuring, Ebenezer."[2] All it takes is time to bank up good deeds and thoughts.
What if you don’t have time? What if you don’t really want to live the good and moral life? How do you escape that post-death experience?
Simple. Your friends and relatives find a sin-eater.[3] The pure sin-eating experience requires a “wayfaring stranger,” unknown to the deceased. They are shut in the room with the “sin-eating expert” and the deceased. A loaf of salted bread and a cup of water are located on the body. The designated sin-eater repeats the “expert’s” incantation and, poof, the sin is translated to the sin-eater. The soul of the deceased goes to its reward unburdened by sin. The wayfaring stranger is sent on their way, never to return. (Do not despair for the Sin-eater! After good works and faith, they work themselves into good graces with Deity.)
The Sin-eater does what the modern lawyer, with their computers, cell phones, and fancy offices do. We invite the client to tell us the truth, no matter how bad it is. We either genuinely don’t judge them or we at least conceal the judgment. We assure them that while they may have screwed up, everybody screws up now and then. And then we try to fix it. Simple, right?
Maybe to the client it’s simple, and relieving. But then, in our own minds and hearts, we need to process what we have heard. Then, we must fix the damage to OUR hearts. We might do it in a healthy manner. We might go for a walk, go swimming, or practice meditation. We can spend time in nature. We can ourselves talk with a valued friend. In some cases, some medication may help. (Booze is NOT a helpful medication.) We can even (shock!) get some “professional help”!
(Hey, relax, it’s not a huge deal. Besides, if I can do it, YOU can do it.)
The first time you ever represent a client,
you have absolutely guaranteed only one thing:
There will be a LAST time. The
time between is called your “career.”
And you career is way too important to you, your family and the many
people you touch to take lightly.
Take good care of yourself. You are worth it.
Mizpah!
[1]
The author is quite comforted and comfortable as a Christian.
[2]
Dickens, C. 1843. A
Christmas Carol. Chapman & Hall.
[3]
What follows is a delightful (to the author) discussion of Sin-eating. It’s drawn from A Wayfaring Sin-eater and other Tales of Appalachia, by James Gay
Jones, 1983. McClain & Company. You can obtain virtually any out-of-print and
low-volume printed books from “Bookfinder.com,” which uses the ABEBooks, Alibris
and Biblio condition rating system, so you’ll know what you are getting.
