Bar News - September 17, 2004
Equal Justice in Silent Times
By: David Hall
Editor's Note: This is an excerpt from the keynote speech David Hall delivered at the NH Bar Foundation's Annual Dinner on May 27, 2004.
 IT IS ALWAYS a special honor for me to share words of inspiration with those in the legal profession who are deeply committed to keeping the dream of equal justice alive. Despite what is often said about lawyers and the legal profession, I am proud to be a member of this profession. Though there are many things about this profession that don't inspire me, there are numerous people in this profession who reinforce my faith in the sacredness of this enterprise.
Without the ideal of equal justice, the law is merely a profession full of moneychangers who sell their services to the highest bidder without regard for those who cannot afford these services. If we think justice is elusive, know that it would be dead without this ideal.
So it is this ideal and the sincere dedication of many lawyers to this ideal that make me proud to be a lawyer. But, those of us who deeply believe in equal justice must also understand that this is a fleeting and elusive ideal that is not embraced by all. And, for some, this ideal is embraced only if it remains an ideal that must never become a reality.
Even those of us who claim to cherish equal justice in both its substantive and idealistic forms must understand that we are greatly influenced by changing social winds and political fluctuations. How we react during these changes is what ultimately determines our ability to achieve the goal of equal justice. That is why I want to speak to you about "equal justice in silent times."
As advocates for social justice we generally mobilize our forces and galvanize our efforts either in moments when the political winds are at our back, or in moments when our programs are under intense attack. But these moments eventually pass too, and we spend the vast majority of our lives in what I call "silent times."
"Silent times" occur when the political landscape changes and becomes antagonistic to the full implementation of these ideals. "Silent times" occur when economic downturns force us to look at the balances in our bank accounts more often than we examine the values in our spiritual vaults. "Silent times" occur when historical amnesia sets in and we forget the systemic inequality that has been woven into the fabric of this society because we are so consumed by the cosmetic changes that have occurred.
Silent times are dangerous because they lull us into thinking we are making progress merely because we still exist. We sit silently hoping that equal justice and social justice will arrive with the morning news. But, it will only emerge when we are able to transform silent moments into collective and eloquent screams for justice.
I believe that we are in one of those silent periods now, and have been in it for some time. This nation is presently captured by a war that is not only consuming our attention but also our resources. Though many of us are relieved that Wall Street is showing positive signs and we are no longer afraid to look at our retirement fund statements, we are still unsure about where this economy is really headed. A presidential election is on the horizon and this always makes many politicians a little sensitive about which items they place at the tops of their agendas, as they may greatly influence how people vote.
Other important legal and social issues have consumed so much of our time that it is easy to forget that in the year 2000 there were over 3.5 million homeless people in this country, and the number is rapidly increasing. It is easy to forget that children die each day because of the color of their skin and the poverty of their parents and communities. It is easy to overlook the fact that even with legal services and the pro bono work of attorneys we are only able to address 20 percent of the legal needs of the poor. And, during these silent times, it is easy to forget that 50 years after the famous Brown decision the vast majority of black and Latino children are still attending segregated schools, and performing at lower levels not only because we have not brought an end to racism in this country, but also because we have not broken the cycles of generational poverty in America.
In these silent times we wait patiently, believing that the world around us will get better, but knowing in our hearts that it is getting worse.
In silent times we feed on ideals and ignore realities. We focus so much on our individual futures that we forget our collective past. America has consistently abused and humiliated those who wear the label of the "other." Whoever has fallen into the unfortunate position of being different has been subjected to murder, humiliation and torture. For 180 of the 220-year history of this country America whipped, lynched, segregated, humiliated and killed the "other" because of their color. We still batter our wives, engage in road rage with strangers, and haze students just so they can become part of a group.
One of the greatest challenges of this nation is to ensure that there will always be those who are willing and able to defend and serve the poor, the vulnerable and the weak. As lawyers so much of this burden falls on us. We must willingly embrace this burden because it is the most sacred part of the oath we took.
I believe that the legal community plays a tremendous role in the transformation of this culture of abuse and neglect. We are uniquely positioned in people's lives; we are placed at the center of storms; and we can choose to see this opportunity as just a job, or we can re-imagine our calling as lawyers. This is also why Dennis Archer, the president of the ABA, and I, often refer to lawyers as healers-not just because we feel that lawyers should assist people in resolving disputes without rancor and conceit. We are actually claiming a role that is much greater. I believe that lawyers are healers because we are charged with mending these open wounds of abuse and neglect in this nation and restoring the broken emotional and spiritual wings of justice. We are in a position not just to help the poor secure their disability payments. We must also be advocates for eliminating barriers that keep people poor, and we must also be the voice of a new spirit that will inspire this nation to care for strangers even when we are not in the midst of a crisis.
There was a recent controversy about comments made by Bill Cosby wherein he criticized low-income citizens for not fulfilling their responsibilities in regard to how they raise their children and utilize their resources. Though some have criticized Cosby for blaming the victim, part of the social justice equation does require the poor to be partners with us in addressing their needs. Yet, as a society, we cannot withhold what is due the poor because we feel they are not living up to their responsibilities. This society has constructed barriers for centuries that have made it difficult for people to live full and prosperous lives. That does not mean that the poor can make excuses and decide not to try to change their situations, but neither should we make excuses for why equal justice is not a reality in this democracy that we are trying to export to the world.
We can never be a true example to the world until we are able to make the values we profess a reality on our home front. If we are to be authentic leaders in the world, then we must be authentic leaders of this domestic agenda. This does not mean that we should neglect and overlook the needs of people around the world, but it does mean that the values we want to export must first be perfected at home. This nation, like all nations will ultimately be judged by how it treats the least of those in its society - this is the spiritual foundation of our nation.
The reason legal services and pro bono services for the poor are so important is that they put this spiritual ideal into practice. Through these efforts we strive to ensure that the "least of these" should stand before the bar of justice with the same privileges as those who are rich and wealthy. As a profession, we can all do more than what we are presently doing. We can give more, volunteer more and we can help break this silence.
There once was a time when there was a war on poverty. There once was a poor people's campaign. Many programs and policies grew out of those efforts, but this society grew tired of helping. This period was followed by a long silent winter; though the ABA and local bar associations have been consistent supporters of legal services, we must break the silence in such a way that the entire agenda of the poor and vulnerable in this society becomes a dominant issue.
I realize that this is not a popular message and that no one will run for office on this platform. But, I believe we can run for the soul of this nation by following this path.
This is not the routine gathering you may think it is. It is a sacred calling for those who truly care about this ideal of equal justice and want to shatter the stillness of the silent times that exist in this country and in our lives-and seek to transform our individual cries of frustration into a collective scream for justice. Our voices may not be heard around the world, but if we yell loud enough, work hard enough, and if we give unselfishly, then these cries will be heard by those in need. That will be our greatest legacy: future generations of lawyers will remember us because we chose to speak up for, and seek, equal justice in silent times, as we realized that silence is not really golden as long as injustice is still alive.
David Hall is the dean of Northeastern School of Law in Boston and author of an upcoming book on the law and spirituality, entitled, Rivers and Stones: A Call for the Spiritual Revitalization of the Legal Profession.
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